Une fille du régent. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  A COMPANION IN THE BASTILLE.

  Thus occupied, Gaston was more uneasy than ennuye; besides, he foundanother source of amusement. Mademoiselle de Launay, who obtainedwhatever she liked from the lieutenant, Maison-Rouge, provided herrequest were only accompanied by a sweet smile, obtained paper and pens;she had sent some to Dumesnil, who had shared them with Gaston, withwhom he still communicated, and with Richelieu, with whom also hemanaged to correspond. Then Gaston formed the idea of making some versesto Helene.

  On his part, the Chevalier Dumesnil made some for Mademoiselle deLaunay, who made them in return for him, so that the Bastille was a trueParnassus. There was only Richelieu who dishonored the society bywriting prose.

  Time passed, as it will pass, even in the Bastille.

  Gaston was asked if he would like to attend mass, and as he was deeplyreligious, he had assented most gladly. The next day they came to fetchhim.

  The mass was celebrated in a little church, having, instead of chapels,separate closets, with bulls-eye windows into the choir, so that theycould only see the officiating priest at the moment of elevation, and hecould not see the prisoners at all.

  Gaston saw M. de Laval and the Duc de Richelieu, who had apparently cometo mass for the purpose of talking, for they knelt side by side, andkept up an incessant whispering. Monsieur de Laval appeared to have someimportant news to communicate, and kept looking at Gaston as though hewere interested in it. As neither spoke to him, however, except in theway of mere salutation, he asked no questions.

  When the mass was over, the prisoners were taken back. As they crossed adark corridor, Gaston passed a man who seemed to be an employe of thehouse. This man sought Gaston's hand, and slipped a paper into it, whichhe put quietly into his waistcoat pocket.

  When he was alone in his own room he eagerly took it out. It was writtenon sugar paper, with the point of a sharpened coal, and contained thisline--"Feign illness from ennui."

  It seemed to Gaston that the writing was not unknown to him, but it wasso roughly traced that it was difficult to recognize. He waited for theevening impatiently, that he might consult with the Chevalier Dumesnil.

  At night Gaston told him what had passed, asking him, as he had a longeracquaintance with the Bastille, what he thought of the advice of hisunknown correspondent.

  "Ma foi, though I do not understand the advice, I should follow it, forit cannot hurt you; the worse that can happen is, that they may give youless to eat."

  "But," said Gaston, "suppose they discover the illness to be feigned."

  "Oh! as to that," replied Dumesnil, "the doctor is entirely ignorant,and will give you whatever you may ask for; perhaps they will let youwalk in the garden, and that would be a great amusement."

  Gaston consulted Mademoiselle de Launay, whose advice, by logic orsympathy, was the same as that of the chevalier; but she added,

  "If they diet you, let me know, and I will send you chicken, sweets, andBordeaux."

  Pompadour did not reply; the hole was not yet pierced.

  Gaston then played the sick man, did not eat what they sent him, relyingon his neighbor's liberality. At the end of the second day M. de Launayappeared--he had been told that Gaston was eating nothing, and he foundthe prisoner in bed.

  "Monsieur," he said, "I fear you are suffering, and have come to seeyou."

  "You are too good, monsieur," said Gaston; "it is true that I amsuffering."

  "What is the matter?"

  "Ma foi, monsieur, I do not know that there is any amour propre here; Iam ennuye in this place."

  "What, in four or five days?"

  "From the first hour."

  "What kind of ennui do you feel?"

  "Are there several?"

  "Certainly--one pines for his family."

  "I have none."

  "For his mistress."

  Gaston sighed.

  "For one's country."

  "Yes," said Gaston, "it is that," seeing that he must say something.

  The governor appeared to reflect.

  "Monsieur," said he, "since I have been governor of the Bastille, myonly agreeable moments have been those in which I have been of serviceto the gentlemen confided to my care by the king. I am ready to doanything for you if you will promise to be reasonable."

  "I promise you, monsieur."

  "I can put you in communication with one of your compatriots, or atleast with a man who seems to know Bretagne perfectly."

  "Is he a prisoner?"

  "Like yourself."

  A vague sentiment passed through Gaston's mind that it must be this manwho had slipped the note into his hand. "I should be very grateful ifyou would do this," said he.

  "Well, to-morrow you shall see him; but as I am recommended to be strictwith him, you can only remain with him an hour, and as he may not quithis chamber, you must go to him."

  "As you please, monsieur," said Gaston.

  "Then it is decided; at five o'clock expect me or the major; but it ison one condition."

  "What is it?"

  "That in consideration of this distraction you will eat a littleto-day."

  "I will try."

  Gaston eat a little chicken and drank a little wine to keep his promise.

  In the evening he told Dumesnil what had passed.

  "Ma foi," said he, "you are lucky; the Count de Laval had the same idea,and all he got was to be put into a room in the tower Du Tresor, wherehe said he was dreadfully dull, and had no amusement but speaking to theprison apothecary."

  "Diable!" said Gaston, "why did you not tell me that before?"

  "I had forgotten it."

  This tardy recollection troubled Gaston somewhat; placed as he wasbetween Pompadour, Dumesnil, and Mademoiselle de Launay, his positionwas tolerable; if he were to be removed, he would be really attacked bythe malady he had feigned.

  At the appointed time the major of the Bastille came, and led Gastonacross several courts, and they stopped at the tower Du Tresor. Everytower had its separate name.

  In the room number one was a prisoner asleep on a folding bed, with hisback turned to the light; the remains of his dinner were by him on aworn-out wooden table, and his costume, torn in many places, indicated aman of low station.

  "Ouais," said Gaston, "did they think that I was so fond of Bretagne,that any fellows who happened to have been born at Nismes or at Penmarchmay be raised to the rank of my Pylades? No, this fellow is too ragged,and seems to eat too much; but as one must not be too capricious inprison, let us make use of the hour--I will recount my adventure toMademoiselle de Launay, and she will put it into verse for the ChevalierDumesnil."

  Gaston was now alone with the prisoner, who yawned and turned in hisbed.

  "Ugh! how cold it is in this cursed Bastille," said he, rubbing hisnose.

  "That voice, that gesture--it is he!" said Gaston, and he approached thebed.

  "What," cried the prisoner, sitting up in bed, and looking at Gaston,"you here, M. de Chanlay?"

  "Captain la Jonquiere," cried Gaston.

  "Myself--that is to say, I am the person you name; but my name ischanged."

  "To what?"----"First Tresor."

  "What?"

  "First Tresor. It is a custom in the Bastille for the prisoner to takethe name of his room--that saves the turnkey the trouble of rememberingnames; however, if the Bastille be full, and two or three prisoners inthe same room, they take two numbers; for example: I am first Tresor, ifyou were put here you would be first Tresor number two; another would befirst Tresor number three--the jailers have a kind of Latin literaturefor this."

  "Yes, I understand," said Gaston, watching La Jonquiere intently; "thenyou are a prisoner?"

  "Parbleu, you see for yourself; I presume we are neither of us here forpleasure."

  "Then we are discovered."

  "I am afraid so."

  "Thanks to you."

  "How to me?" cried La Jonquiere, feigning surprise. "No jokes, I beg."

 
; "You have made revelations, traitor!"

  "I! come, come, young man, you are mad; you ought not to be in theBastille, but in the Petites Maisons."

  "Do not deny it, M. d'Argenson told me!"

  "D'Argenson; pardieu, the authority is good; and do you know what hetold me?"

  "No."

  "That you had denounced me."

  "Monsieur!"

  "Well; what then? Are we to cut each other's throats because the policehas followed out its trade and lied?"

  "But how could he discover?"

  "I ask the same of you. But one thing is certain; if I had toldanything, I should not be here. You have not seen much of me, but youought to know that I should not be fool enough to give informationgratis; revelations are bought and sold, monsieur, and I know thatDubois pays high for them."

  "Perhaps you are right," said Gaston; "but at least let us bless thechance which brings us together."

  "Certainly."

  "You do not appear enchanted, nevertheless."

  "I am only moderately so, I confess."

  "Captain!"

  "Ah, monsieur, how bad-tempered you are."

  "I?"

  "Yes; you are always getting angry. I like my solitude; that does notspeak."

  "Monsieur!"

  "Again. Now listen. Do you believe, as you say, that chance has broughtus together?"

  "What should it be?"

  "Some combination of our jailers--of D'Argenson's, or perhaps Dubois's."

  "Did you not write to me?"

  "I?"

  "Telling me to feign illness from ennui."

  "And how should I have written?--on what?--by whom?"

  Gaston reflected; and this time it was La Jonquiere who watched him.

  "Then," said the captain presently, "I think, on the contrary, that itis to you we owe the pleasure of meeting in the Bastille."

  "To me, monsieur?"

  "Yes, chevalier; you are too confiding. I give you that information incase you leave here; but more particularly in case you remain here."

  "Thank you."

  "Have you noticed if you were followed?"

  "No."

  "A conspirator should never look before, but always behind him."

  Gaston confessed that he had not taken this precaution.

  "And the duke," asked La Jonquiere, "is he arrested?"

  "I know not; I was going to ask you."

  "Peste! that is disagreeable. You took a young woman to him?"

  "You know that."

  "Ah! my dear fellow, everything becomes known. Did not she give theinformation? Ah! woman, woman!"

  "This was a brave girl, monsieur; I would answer for her discretion,courage, and devotion."

  "Yes, I understand. We love her--so she is honey and gold. What an ideaof a conspiracy you must have to take a woman to the chief of the plot!"

  "But I told her nothing; and she could know no secrets of mine but suchas she may have surprised."

  "She has a keen eye."

  "And if she knew my projects, I am convinced she would never havespoken."

  "Oh, monsieur, without counting her natural disposition to thatexercise, can we not always make a woman speak? Some one might havesaid, without any preparation 'Your love for M. de Chanlay will loseyour head'--I will wager that she will speak."

  "There is no danger--she loves me too much."

  "That is the very reason, pardieu! that she would chatter like a magpie,and that we are both caged up. However, let us drop this. What do you dohere?"

  "Amuse myself."

  "Amuse yourself--how?"

  "With making verses, eating sweets, and making holes in the floor."

  "Holes in the king's boards?" said La Jonquiere. "Oh, oh! that is goodto know. Does not M. de Launay scold?"

  "He does not know it; besides, I am not singular--everybody makes a holein something; one his floor, the other his chimney, the next his wall.Do you not make holes in something?"

  La Jonquiere looked to see if Gaston were not laughing at him.

  "But now, monsieur," said La Jonquiere, "let us speak seriously. Are youcondemned to death?"

  "I?"

  "Yes, you."

  "You say that coolly."

  "It is a habit in the Bastille. There are twenty here condemned todeath, and not a bit the worse for it."

  "I have been interrogated."

  "Ah! you see."

  "But I do not believe I am condemned."

  "That will come."

  "My dear captain, do you know that, although you do not look so, you aremarvelously merry?"

  "You think so?"

  "Yes."

  "Does it astonish you?"

  "I did not know you were so brave."

  "Then you would regret life?"

  "I confess it; I only want one thing to make me happy, and that is tolive."

  "And you became a conspirator with a chance of happiness before you? Ido not understand you; I thought people conspired from despair, as theymarry when they have no other resource."

  "When I joined the conspiracy I did not love."

  "And afterward?"

  "I would not draw back."

  "Bravo! that is what I call character. Have you been tortured?"

  "No; but I had a narrow escape."

  "Then you will be."

  "Why so?"

  "Because I have been; and it would be unfair to treat us differently.Look at the state of my clothes."

  "Which did they give you?" asked Gaston, shuddering at the recollectionof what had passed between D'Argenson and himself.

  "The water. They made me drink a barrel and a half; my stomach was likea bladder; I did not think I could have held so much."

  "And did you suffer much?" asked Gaston, with interest.

  "Yes; but my temperament is robust--the next day I thought no more ofit. It is true that since then I have drunk a great deal of wine. If youhave to choose, select the water--it cleans. All the mixtures doctorsgive us are only a means of making us swallow water. Fangon says thebest doctor he ever heard of was Doctor Sangrado; he only existed in LeSage's brain, or he would have done miracles."

  "You know Fangon?" asked Gaston, surprised.

  "By reputation; besides, I have read his works. But do you intend topersist in saying nothing?"

  "Doubtless."

  "You are right. I should tell you, if you regret life so much as yousay, to whisper a few words to M. d'Argenson, but he is a talker whowould reveal your confession."

  "I will not speak, be assured; these are points on which I do not needstrengthening."

  "I believe it; pardieu! you seem to me like Sardanapalus in your tower.Here I have only M. de Laval, who takes medicine three times a day--itis an amusement he has invented. Well, tastes differ; and perhaps hewants to get accustomed to the water."

  "But did you not say I should certainly be condemned?"

  "Do you wish to know the whole truth?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, D'Argenson told me that you were."

  Gaston turned pale, in spite of his courage. La Jonquiere remarked it.

  "However," said he, "I believe you might save yourself by certainrevelations."

  "Why, do you think I should do what you refused?"

  "Our characters and our positions are different--I am no longer young--Iam not in love--I do not leave a mistress in tears." Gaston sighed.

  "You see there is a great difference between us; when did you ever hearme sigh like that?"

  "Ah! if I die, his excellency will take care of Helene."

  "And if he be arrested?"

  "You are right."

  "Then--"

  "God will protect her."

  "Decidedly you are young," said La Jonquiere.

  "Explain."

  "Suppose his excellency be not arrested?"

  "Well."

  "What age is he?"

  "Forty-five or six, I suppose."

  "And if he fell in love with Helene; is not that her name?" />
  "The duke fall in love with her! he to whose protection I confided her!it would be infamous!"

  "The world is full of infamy; that is how it gets on."

  "Oh, I will not dwell on such a thought."

  "I do not tell you to dwell on it; I only suggested it for you to makewhat use you liked of."

  "Hush," said Gaston, "some one is coming."

  "Have you asked for anything?"

  "No."

  "Then the time allowed for your visit is out," and La Jonquiere threwhimself quickly on his bed.

  The bolts creaked, the door opened, and the governor appeared.

  "Well, monsieur," said he to Gaston; "does your companion suit you?"

  "Yes, particularly as I know Captain la Jonquiere."

  "That makes my task more delicate; but, however, I made you an offer,and I will not draw back. I will permit one visit daily, at any hour youplease: shall it be morning or evening?"

  Gaston looked at La Jonquiere.

  "Say five in the evening," said La Jonquiere, quickly.

  "In the evening at five o'clock, if you please."

  "The same as to-day, then?"

  "Yes."

  "It shall be as you desire, monsieur."

  Gaston and La Jonquiere exchanged a glance, and the chevalier was takenback to his chamber.