The Vicomte de Bragelonne

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER LXII.

  THE CHANGE OF RESIDENCE, THE TRAP-DOOR, AND THE PORTRAIT.

  Porthos, intrusted, to his great delight, with this mission, which madehim feel young again, took half an hour less than his usual time to puton his court suit. To show that he was a man acquainted with the usagesof the highest society, he had begun by sending his lackey to inquire ifMonsieur de Saint-Aignan were at home, and received, in answer, that M.le Comte de Saint-Aignan had had the honor of accompanying the king toSaint-Germain, as well as the whole court; but that Monsieur le Comtehad just that moment returned. Immediately upon this reply, Porthos madeas much haste as possible, and reached Saint-Aignan's apartments just asthe latter was having his boots taken off. The promenade had beendelightful. The king, who was in love more than ever, and of coursehappier than ever, behaved in the most charming manner to every one.Nothing could possibly equal his kindness. M. de Saint-Aignan, it may beremembered, was a poet, and fancied that he had proved that he was so,under too many a memorable circumstance, to allow the title to bedisputed by any one. An indefatigable rhymester, he had, during thewhole of the journey, overwhelmed with quatrains, sextains, andmadrigals, first the king, and then La Valliere. The king was, on hisside, in a similarly poetical mood, and had made a distich; while LaValliere, like all women who are in love, had composed two sonnets. Asone may see, then, the day had not been a bad one for Apollo; and,therefore, as soon as he had returned to Paris, Saint-Aignan, who knewbeforehand that his verses would be sure to be extensively circulated incourt circles, occupied himself, with a little more attention than hehad been able to bestow during the promenade, with the composition, aswell as with the idea itself. Consequently, with all the tenderness of afather about to start his children in life, he candidly interrogatedhimself whether the public would find these offspring of his imaginationsufficiently elegant and graceful; and so, in order to make his mindeasy on the subject, M. de Saint-Aignan recited to himself the madrigalhe had composed, and which he had repeated from memory to the king, andwhich he had promised to write out for him on his return. All the timehe was committing these words to memory, the comte was engaged inundressing himself more completely. He had just taken off his coat, andwas putting on his dressing-gown, when he was informed that Monsieur leBaron de Valon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds was waiting to be received.

  "Eh!" he said, "what does that bunch of names mean? I don't knowanything about him."

  "It is the same gentleman," replied the lackey, "who had the honor ofdining with you, monseigneur, at the king's table, when his majesty wasstaying at Fontainebleau."

  "Introduce him, then, at once," cried Saint-Aignan.

  Porthos in a few minutes entered the room. M. de Saint-Aignan had anexcellent recollection of persons, and at the first glance he recognizedthe gentleman from the country, who enjoyed so singular a reputation,and whom the king had received so favorably at Fontainebleau, in spiteof the smiles of some of those who were present. He therefore advancedtoward Porthos with all the outward signs of a consideration of mannerwhich Porthos thought but natural, considering that he himself, wheneverhe called upon an adversary, hoisted the standard of the most refinedpoliteness. Saint-Aignan desired the servant to give Porthos a chair;and the latter, who saw nothing unusual in this act of politeness, satdown gravely, and coughed. The ordinary courtesies having been exchangedbetween the two gentlemen, the comte, to whom the visit was paid, said,"May I ask, Monsieur le Baron, to what happy circumstance I am indebtedfor the favor of a visit from you?"

  "The very thing I am about to have the honor of explaining to you,Monsieur le Comte; but, I beg your pardon--"

  "What is the matter, monsieur?" inquired Saint-Aignan.

  "I regret to say that I have broken your chair."

  "Not at all, monsieur," said Saint-Aignan: "not at all."

  "It is the fact, though, Monsieur le Comte; I have broken it--so muchso, indeed, that, if I do not move, I shall fall down, which would be anexceedingly disagreeable position for me in the discharge of the veryserious mission which has been intrusted to me with regard to yourself."

  Porthos rose, and but just in time, for the chair had given way severalinches. Saint-Aignan looked about him for something more solid for hisguest to sit upon. "Modern articles of furniture," said Porthos, whilethe comte was looking about, "are constructed in a ridiculously lightmanner. In my early days, when I used to sit down with far more energythan is now the case, I do not remember ever to have broken a chair,except in taverns, with my arms."

  Saint-Aignan smiled at this remark. "But," said Porthos, as he settledhimself down on a couch, which creaked, but did not give way beneath hisweight, "that, unfortunately, has nothing whatever to do with my presentvisit."

  "Why unfortunately? Are you the bearer of a message of ill omen,Monsieur le Baron?"

  "Of ill omen--for a gentleman? Certainly not, Monsieur le Comte,"replied Porthos, nobly. "I have simply come to say that you haveseriously insulted a friend of mine."

  "I, monsieur?" exclaimed Saint-Aignan--"I have insulted a friend ofyours, do you say? May I ask his name?"

  "M. Raoul de Bragelonne."

  "I have insulted M. Raoul de Bragelonne!" cried Saint-Aignan. "I reallyassure you, monsieur, that it is quite impossible; for M. de Bragelonne,whom I know but very slightly--nay, whom I know hardly at all--is inEngland; and, as I have not seen him for a long time past, I cannotpossibly have insulted him."

  "M. de Bragelonne is in Paris, Monsieur le Comte," said Porthos,perfectly unmoved; "and I repeat, it is quite certain you have insultedhim, since he himself told me you had. Yes, monsieur, you have seriouslyinsulted him, mortally insulted him, I repeat."

  "It is impossible. Monsieur le Baron, I swear, quite impossible."

  "Besides," added Porthos, "you cannot be ignorant of the circumstancesince M. de Bragelonne informed me that he had already apprised you ofit by a note."

  "I give you my word of honor, monsieur, that I have received no notewhatever."

  "This is most extraordinary," replied Porthos.

  "I will convince you," said Saint-Aignan, "that I have received nothingin any way from him." And he rang the bell. "Basque," he said to theservant who entered, "how many letters or notes were sent here during myabsence?"

  "Three, Monsieur le Comte--a note from M. de Fiesque, one from Madame deLaferte, and a letter from M. de las Fuentes."

  "Is that all?"

  "Yes, Monsieur le Comte."

  "Speak the truth before this gentleman--the truth, you understand. Iwill take care you are not blamed."

  "There was a note, also, from--from--"

  "Well, from whom?"

  "From Mademoiselle de Laval--"

  "That is quite sufficient," interrupted Porthos. "I believe you,Monsieur le Comte."

  Saint-Aignan dismissed the valet, and followed him to the door, in orderto close it after him; and when he had done so, looking straight beforehim, he happened to see in the keyhole of the adjoining apartment thepaper which Bragelonne had slipped in there as he left. "What is this?"he said.

  Porthos, who was sitting with his back to the room, turned round, "Oh,oh!" he said.

  "A note in the keyhole!" exclaimed Saint-Aignan.

  "That is not unlikely to be the one we want, Monsieur le Comte," saidPorthos.

  Saint-Aignan took out the paper. "A note from M. de Bragelonne!" heexclaimed.

  "You see, monsieur, I was right. Oh, when I say a thing--"

  "Brought here by M. de Bragelonne himself," the comte murmured, turningpale. "This is infamous! How could he possibly have come here?"

  And the comte rang again.

  "Who has been here during my absence with the king?"

  "No one, monsieur."

  "That is impossible. Some one must have been here."

  "No one could possibly have entered, monsieur; since I kept the keys inmy own pocket."

  "And yet I find this letter in that lock yonder; some one must have putit there; it could not have come alone
."

  Basque opened his arms as if signifying the most absolute ignorance onthe subject.

  "Probably it was M. de Bragelonne himself who placed it there," saidPorthos.

  "In that case he must have entered here."

  "How could that have been, since I have the key in my own pocket?"returned Basque, perseveringly.

  Saint-Aignan crumpled up the letter in his hand, after having read it.

  "There is something mysterious about this," he murmured, absorbed inthought.

  Porthos left him to his reflections; but after a while returned to themission he had undertaken.

  "Shall we return to our little affair?" he said, addressingSaint-Aignan, as soon as the lackey had disappeared.

  "I think I can now understand it, from this note, which has arrived herein so singular a manner. Monsieur de Bragelonne says that a friend willcall."

  "I am his friend, and am the one he alludes to."

  "For the purpose of giving me a challenge?"

  "Precisely."

  "And he complains that I have insulted him?"

  "Mortally so."

  "In what way, may I ask; for his conduct is so mysterious, that it, atleast, needs some explanation?"

  "Monsieur," replied Porthos, "my friend cannot but be right; and, as faras his conduct is concerned, if it be mysterious, as you say, you haveonly yourself to blame for it." Porthos pronounced these words with anamount of confidence which, for a man who was unaccustomed to his ways,must have revealed an infinity of sense.

  "Mystery, be it so; but what is the mystery about?" said Saint-Aignan.

  "You will think it best, perhaps," Porthos replied, with a low bow,"that I do not enter into particulars."

  "Oh, I perfectly understand. We will touch very lightly upon it, then;so speak, monsieur, I am listening."

  "In the first place, monsieur," said Porthos, "you have changed yourapartments."

  "Yes, that is quite true," said Saint-Aignan.

  "You admit it," said Porthos, with an air of satisfaction.

  "Admit it! of course I admit it. Why should I not admit it, do yousuppose?"

  "You have admitted it. Very good," said Porthos, lifting up one finger.

  "But how can my having moved my lodgings have done M. de Bragelonne anyharm? Have the goodness to tell me that, for I positively do notcomprehend a word of what you are saying."

  Porthos stopped him, and then said with great gravity, "Monsieur, thisis the first of M. de Bragelonne's complaints against you. If he makes acomplaint, it is because he feels himself insulted."

  Saint-Aignan began to beat his foot impatiently on the ground. "Thislooks like a bad quarrel," he said.

  "No one can possibly have a bad quarrel with the Vicomte de Bragelonne,"returned Porthos; "but, at all events, you have nothing to add on thesubject of your changing your apartments, I suppose?"

  "Nothing. And what is the next point?"

  "Ah, the next! You will observe, monsieur, that the one I have alreadymentioned is a most serious injury, to which you have given no answer,or rather, have answered very indifferently. Is it possible, monsieur,that you have changed your lodgings? M. de Bragelonne feels insulted atyour having done so, and you do not attempt to excuse yourself."

  "What!" cried Saint-Aignan, who was getting annoyed at the perfectcoolness of his visitor--"what! am I to consult M. de Bragelonne whetherI am to move or not? You can hardly be serious, monsieur."

  "Absolutely necessary, monsieur; but, under any circumstances, you willadmit that it is nothing in comparison with the second ground ofcomplaint."

  "Well, what is that?"

  Porthos assumed a very serious expression as he said: "How about thetrap-door, monsieur?"

  Saint-Aignan turned exceedingly pale. He pushed back his chair soabruptly, that Porthos, simple as he was, perceived that the blow hadtold. "The trap-door," murmured Saint-Aignan.

  "Yes, monsieur, explain that if you can," said Porthos, shaking hishead.

  Saint-Aignan held down his head as he murmured: "I have been betrayed,everything is known!"

  "Everything," replied Porthos, who knew nothing.

  "You see me perfectly overwhelmed," pursued Saint-Aignan, "overwhelmedto a degree that I hardly know what I am about."

  "A guilty conscience, monsieur. Your affair is a bad one, and when thepublic shall learn all about it, and will judge--"

  "Oh, monsieur!" exclaimed the comte, hurriedly, "such a secret ought notto be known, even by one's confessor."

  "That we will think about," said Porthos; "the secret will not go far,in fact."

  "Surely, monsieur," returned Saint-Aignan, "since M. de Bragelonne haspenetrated the secret, he must be aware of the danger he as well asothers run the risk of incurring."

  "M. de Bragelonne runs no danger, monsieur, nor does he fear any either,as you, if it please Heaven, will find out very soon."

  "This fellow is a perfect madman," thought Saint-Aignan. "What inHeaven's name does he want?" He then said aloud: "Come, monsieur, let ushush up this affair."

  "You forget the portrait," said Porthos, in a voice of thunder, whichmade the comte's blood freeze in his veins.

  As the portrait in question was La Valliere's portrait, and as nomistake could any longer exist on the subject, Saint-Aignan's eyes werecompletely opened. "Ah;" he exclaimed--"ah! monsieur, I remember nowthat M. de Bragelonne was engaged to be married to her."

  Porthos assumed an imposing air, all the majesty of ignorance, in fact,as he said: "It matters nothing whatever to me, nor to yourself, indeed,whether or not my friend was, as you say, engaged to be married. I ameven astonished that you should have made use of so indiscreet a remark.It may possibly do your cause harm, monsieur."

  "Monsieur," replied Saint-Aignan, "you are the incarnation ofintelligence, delicacy, and loyalty of feeling united. I see the wholematter now clearly enough."

  "So much the better," said Porthos.

  "And," pursued Saint-Aignan, "you have made me comprehend it in the mostingenious and the most delicate manner possible. I beg you to accept mybest thanks."

  Porthos drew himself up, unable to resist the flattery of the remark.

  "Only, now that I know everything, permit me to explain--"

  Porthos shook his head as a man who does not wish to hear, butSaint-Aignan continued: "I am in despair, I assure you, at all that hashappened; but how would you have acted in my place? Come, betweenourselves, tell me what would you have done?"

  Porthos drew himself up as he answered: "There is no question at all ofwhat I should have done, young man; you have now been made acquaintedwith the three causes of complaint against you, I believe?"

  "As for the first, my change of rooms, and I now address myself to you,as a man of honor and of great intelligence, could I, when the desireof so august a personage was so urgently expressed that I should move,ought I to have disobeyed?"

  Porthos was about to speak, but Saint-Aignan did not give him time toanswer. "Ah! my frankness, I see, convinces you," he said, interpretingthe movement according to his own fancy. "You feel that I am right."

  Porthos did not reply, and so Saint-Aignan continued: "I pass by thatunfortunate trap-door," he said, placing his hand on Porthos' arm, "thattrap-door, the occasion and the means of so much unhappiness, and whichwas constructed for--you know what. Well then, in plain truth, do yousuppose that it was I who, of my own accord, in such a place, too, hadthat trap-door made?--Oh, no! you do not believe it; and here, again,you feel, you guess, you understand the influence of a will superior tomy own. You can conceive the infatuation, the blind irresistiblepassion, which has been at work. But, thank Heaven! I am fortunateenough in speaking to a man who has so much sensitiveness of feeling; ifit were not so, indeed, what an amount of misery and scandal would fallupon her, poor girl! and upon him--whom I will not name."

  Porthos, confused and bewildered by the eloquence and gestures ofSaint-Aignan, made a thousand efforts to stem this torrent of words, ofwhich, by-the-by, he did no
t understand a single one; he remainedupright and motionless on his seat, and that was all he could do.Saint-Aignan continued, and gave a new inflection to his voice, and anincreasing vehemence to his gesture: "As for the portrait, for I readilybelieve the portrait is the principal cause of complaint, tell mecandidly if you think me to blame?--Who was it who wished to have herportrait? Was it I?--Who is in love with her? Is it I?--Who wishes togain her affection? Again, is it I?--Who took her likeness? I, do youthink? No! a thousand times no! I know M. de Bragelonne must be in astate of despair; I know these misfortunes are most cruel. But I, too,am suffering as well; and yet there is no possibility of offering anyresistance. Suppose we were to struggle? we would be laughed at. If heobstinately persists in his course, he is lost. You will tell me, Iknow, that despair is ridiculous, but then you are a sensible man. Youhave understood me. I perceive by your serious, thoughtful, embarrassedair, even, that the importance of the situation we are placed in has notescaped you. Return, therefore, to M. de Bragelonne; thank him--as Ihave indeed reason to thank him--for having chosen as an intermediary aman of your high merit. Believe me that I shall, on my side, preserve aneternal gratitude for the man who has so ingeniously, so cleverlyarranged the misunderstanding between us. And since ill-luck would haveit that the secret should be known to four instead of to three, why,this secret, which might make the most ambitious man's fortune, I amdelighted to share with you, monsieur; from the bottom of my heart I amdelighted at it. From this very moment you can make use of me as youplease; I place myself entirely at your mercy. What can I possibly dofor you? What can I solicit, nay, require even? You have only to speak,monsieur, only to speak."

  And, according to the familiarly friendly fashion of that period,Saint-Aignan threw his arms round Porthos and clasped him tenderly inhis embrace. Porthos allowed him to do this with the most perfectindifference. "Speak," resumed Saint-Aignan, "what do you require?"

  "Monsieur," said Porthos. "I have a horse below, be good enough to mounthim; he is a very good one, and will play you no tricks."

  "Mount on horseback! what for?" inquired Saint-Aignan, with no littlecuriosity.

  "To accompany me where M. de Bragelonne is awaiting us."

  "Ah! he wishes to speak to me, I suppose? I can well believe that; hewishes to have the details, very likely; alas! it is a very delicatematter; but at the present moment I cannot, for the king is waiting forme."

  "The king must wait, then," said Porthos.

  "What do you say? the king must wait!" interrupted the finishedcourtier, with a smile of utter amazement, for he could not understandthat the king could under any circumstances be supposed to have to wait.

  "It is merely the affair of a very short hour," returned Porthos.

  "But where is M. de Bragelonne waiting for me?"

  "At the Minimes, at Vincennes."

  "Ah, indeed! but are we going to laugh over the affair when we getthere?"

  "I don't think it likely," said Porthos, as his face assumed a sternhardness of expression.

  "But the Minimes is a rendezvous where duels take place, and what can Ihave to do at the Minimes?"

  Porthos slowly drew his sword, and said: "That is the length of myfriend's sword."

  "Why, the man is mad!" cried Saint-Aignan.

  The color mounted to Porthos' face, as he replied: "If I had not thehonor of being in your own apartment, monsieur, and of representing M.de Bragelonne's interests, I would throw you out of the window. It willbe merely a pleasure postponed, and you will lose nothing by waiting.Will you come with me to the Minimes, monsieur, of your own free will?"

  "But--"

  "Take care, I will carry you if you do not come quietly."

  "Basque!" cried Saint-Aignan. As soon as Basque appeared, he said, "Theking wishes to see Monsieur le Comte."

  "That is very different," said Porthos; "the king's service beforeeverything else. We will wait until this evening, monsieur."

  And saluting Saint-Aignan with his usual courtesy, Porthos left theroom, delighted at having arranged another affair. Saint-Aignan lookedafter him as he left; and then hastily putting on his coat again, he ranoff, arranging his dress as he went along, muttering to himself, "TheMinimes! the Minimes! We will see how the king will like this challenge;for it is for him after all, that is certain."