The Vicomte de Bragelonne

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER LXXI.

  WHAT TOOK PLACE AT THE LOUVRE DURING THE SUPPER AT THE BASTILLE.

  M. de Saint-Aignan had executed the commission with which the king hadintrusted him for La Valliere, as we have already seen in one of thepreceding chapters; but, whatever his eloquence might have been, he didnot succeed in persuading the young girl that she had in the king aprotector powerful enough for her under any combination ofcircumstances, and that she had no need of any one else in the worldwhen the king was on her side. In point of fact, at the very first wordwhich the favorite mentioned of the discovery of the famous secret,Louise, in a passion of tears, abandoned herself in utter despair to asorrow which would have been far from flattering for the king, if he hadbeen a witness of it from one of the corners of the room. Saint-Aignan,in his character of ambassador, felt greatly offended at it, as hismaster himself would have been, and returned to inform the king what hehad seen and heard; and it is there we shall now find him in a state ofgreat agitation, in the presence of the king, who was, if possible, in astate of greater agitation than he.

  "But," said the king to the courtier, when the latter had finished hisreport, "what did she decide to do? Shall I at least see her presentlybefore supper? Will she come to me, or shall I be obliged to go to herroom?"

  "I believe, sire, that if your majesty wishes to see her, you will notonly have to take the first step in advance, but will have to go thewhole way."

  "That I do not mind. Do you think she has still a fancy for thatBragelonne?" muttered the king between his teeth.

  "Oh! sire, that is not possible; for it is you alone, I am convinced,Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves, and that, too, with all her heart.But you know that De Bragelonne belongs to that proud race who play thepart of Roman heroes."

  The king smiled feebly; he knew how true the illustration was, for Athoshad just left him.

  "As for Mademoiselle de la Valliere," Saint-Aignan continued, "she wasbrought up under the care of the Dowager Madame; that is to say, in thegreatest austerity and formality. This young engaged couple coldlyexchanged their little vows in the presence of the moon and the stars,and now, when they find they have to break those vows asunder, it playsthe very deuce with them."

  Saint-Aignan thought he should have made the king laugh; but quite onthe contrary, from a mere smile Louis passed to the greatest seriousnessof manner. He already began to experience that remorse which the comtehad promised D'Artagnan he would inflict upon him. He reflected that, infact, these young persons had loved and sworn fidelity to each other;that one of the two had kept his word, and that the other was tooconscientious not to feel her perjury most bitterly. And his remorse wasnot unaccompanied; for bitter pangs of jealousy began to beset theking's heart. He did not say another word, and instead of going to pay avisit to his mother, or the queen, or Madame, in order to amuse himselfa little, and make the ladies laugh, as he himself used to say, he threwhimself into the huge armchair in which his august father, Louis XIII.,had passed so many weary days and years in company with Baradas andCinq-Mars. Saint-Aignan perceived that the king was not to be amused atthat moment: he tried a last resource and pronounced Louise's name,which made the king look up immediately. "What does your majesty intendto do this evening? Shall Mademoiselle de la Valliere be informed ofyour intention to see her?"

  "It seems she is already aware of that," replied the king. "No, no,Saint-Aignan," he continued, after a moment's pause, "we will both of uspass our time in thinking, and musing, and dreaming; when Mademoisellede la Valliere shall have sufficiently regretted what she now regrets,she will deign, perhaps, to give us some news of herself."

  "Ah! sire, is it possible you can so misunderstand her heart, which isso full of devotion?"

  The king rose, flushed from vexation and annoyance; he was a prey tojealousy as well as to remorse. Saint-Aignan was just beginning to feelthat his position was becoming awkward, when the curtain before the doorwas raised. The king turned hastily round; his first idea was that aletter from Louise had arrived; but, instead of a letter of love, heonly saw his captain of musketeers standing upright and perfectly silentin the doorway. "M. d'Artagnan," he said, "ah! Well, monsieur?"

  D'Artagnan looked at Saint-Aignan; the king's eyes took the samedirection as those of his captain; these looks would have been clear toany one, and for a still greater reason they were so for Saint-Aignan.The courtier bowed and quitted the room, leaving the king and D'Artagnanalone.

  "Is it done?" inquired the king.

  "Yes, sire," replied the captain of the musketeers in a grave voice, "itis done!"

  The king was unable to say another word. Pride, however, obliged him notto pause at what he had done; whenever a sovereign has adopted adecisive course, even though it be unjust, he is compelled to prove toall who were witnesses of his having adopted it, and particularly toprove it to himself, that he was quite right in so adopting it. A goodmeans for effecting that--an almost infallible means, indeed--is to tryand prove his victim to be in the wrong. Louis, brought up by Mazarinand Anne of Austria, knew better than any one else his vocation as amonarch; he therefore endeavored to prove it on the present occasion.After a few moments' pause, which he had employed in making silently tohimself the same reflections which we have just expressed aloud, hesaid, in an indifferent tone: "What did the comte say?"

  "Nothing at all, sire."

  "Surely he did not allow himself to be arrested without sayingsomething?"

  "He said he expected to be arrested, sire."

  The king raised his head haughtily.

  "I presume," he said, "that M. le Comte de la Fere has not continued toplay his obstinate and rebellious part?"

  "In the first place, sire, what do you term rebellious?" quietly askedthe musketeer. "A rebel, in the eyes of the king, is a man who not onlyallows himself to be shut up in the Bastille, but, still more, whoopposes those who do not wish to take him there."

  "Who do not wish to take him there!" exclaimed the king. "What do yousay, captain! Are you mad?"

  "I believe not, sire."

  "You speak of persons who did not wish to arrest M. de la Fere. Who arethose persons, may I ask?"

  "I should say those whom your majesty intrusted with that duty."

  "But it was you whom I intrusted with it," exclaimed the king.

  "Yes, sire; it was me."

  "And yet you say that, despite my orders, you had the intention of notarresting the man who had insulted me!"

  "Yes, sire--that was really my intention. I even proposed to the comteto mount a horse that I had had prepared for him at the Barriere de laConference."

  "And what was your object in getting this horse ready?"

  "Why, sire, in order that M. le Comte de la Fere might be able to reachHavre, and from that place make his escape to England."

  "You betrayed me, then, monsieur?" cried the king, kindling with a wildpride.

  "Exactly so."

  There was nothing to say in answer to statements made in such a tone;the king was astounded at such an obstinate and open resistance on thepart of D'Artagnan. "At least you had a reason, Monsieur d'Artagnan, foracting as you did?" said the king, proudly.

  "I have always a reason for everything, sire."

  "Your reason cannot be your friendship for the comte, at all events--theonly one that can be of any avail, the only one that could possiblyexcuse you--for I placed you perfectly at your ease in that respect."

  "Me, sire?"

  "Did I not give you the choice to arrest or not to arrest M. le Comte dela Fere?"

  "Yes, sire, but--"

  "But what?" exclaimed the king, impatiently.

  "But you warned me, sire, that if I did not arrest him, your captain ofthe guards should do so."

  "Was I not considerate enough toward you from the very moment I did notcompel you to obey me?"

  "To me, sire, you were, but not to my friend; for my friend would bearrested all the same, whether by myself or by the captain of theguards."

 
"And this is your devotion, monsieur! a devotion which argues andreasons. You are no soldier, monsieur!"

  "I wait for your majesty to tell me what I am."

  "Well, then--you are a Frondeur."

  "And since there is no longer any Fronde, sire, in that case--"

  "But if what you say is true--"

  "What I say is always true, sire."

  "What have you come to say to me, monsieur?"

  "I have come to say to your majesty, 'Sire, M. de la Fere is in theBastille.'"

  "That is not your fault, it would seem."

  "That is true, sire; but at all events he is there; and since he isthere, it is important that your majesty should know it."

  "Ah! Monsieur d'Artagnan, so you set your king at defiance."

  "Sire--"

  "Monsieur d'Artagnan! I warn you that you are abusing my patience."

  "On the contrary, sire."

  "What do you mean by 'on the contrary'?"

  "I have come to get myself arrested too."

  "To get yourself arrested--you!"

  "Of course. My friend will get wearied to death in the Bastille byhimself; and I have come to propose to your majesty to permit me to bearhim company; if your majesty will but give the word, I will arrestmyself; I shall not need the captain of the guards for that, I assureyou."

  The king darted toward the table and seized hold of a pen to write theorder for D'Artagnan's imprisonment. "Pay attention, monsieur, that thisis forever," cried the king in a tone of stern menace.

  "I can quite believe that," returned the musketeer; "for when you haveonce done such an act as that, you will never be able to look me in theface again."

  The king dashed down his pen violently. "Leave the room, monsieur!" hesaid.

  "Not so, if it please your majesty."

  "How is that?"

  "Sire, I came to speak gently and temperately to your majesty; yourmajesty got into a passion with me; that is a misfortune; but I shallnot the less on that account say what I had to say to you."

  "Your resignation, monsieur--your resignation!" cried the king.

  "Sire, you know whether I care about my resignation or not, since atBlois, on the very day when you refused King Charles the million whichmy friend the Comte de la Fere gave him, I then tendered my resignationto your majesty."

  "Very well, monsieur--do it at once!"

  "No, sire; for there is no question of my resignation at the presentmoment. Your majesty took up your pen just now to send me to theBastille--why should you change your intention?"

  "D'Artagnan! Gascon that you are! who is the king, allow me to ask--youor myself?"

  "You, sire, unfortunately."

  "What do you mean by 'unfortunately'?"

  "Yes, sire; for if it were I--"

  "If it were you, you would approve of M. d'Artagnan's rebelliousconduct, I suppose?"

  "Certainly."

  "Really!" said the king, shrugging his shoulders.

  "And I should tell my captain of the musketeers," continued D'Artagnan,"I should tell him, looking at him all the while with human eyes, andnot with eyes like coals of fire, 'M. d'Artagnan, I had forgotten that Iwas the king, for I descended from my throne in order to insult agentleman.'"

  "Monsieur," said the king, "do you think you can excuse your friend byexceeding him in insolence?"

  "Oh, sire! I should go much farther than he did," said D'Artagnan; "andit would be your own fault. I should tell you what he, a man full of thefinest sense of delicacy, did not tell you; I should say--'Sire, youhave sacrificed his son, and he defended his son--you sacrificedhimself; he addressed you in the name of honor, of religion, ofvirtue--you repulsed, drove him away, imprisoned him.' I should beharder than he was, for I should say to you--'Sire, it is for you tochoose. Do you wish to have friends or lackeys--soldiers orslaves--great men or mere puppets? Do you wish men to serve you, or tobend and crouch before you? Do you wish men to love you or to be afraidof you? If you prefer baseness, intrigue, cowardice, say so at once,sire, and we will leave you--we who are the only individuals who areleft--nay, I will say more, the only models of the valor of formertimes; we who have done our duty, and have exceeded, perhaps, in courageand in merit, the men already great for posterity. Choose, sire, andthat too without delay. Whatever remains to you of great nobles, guardit with a jealous eye; you will never be deficient in courtiers. Delaynot--and send me to the Bastille with my friend; for, if you have notknown how to listen to the Comte de la Fere, whose voice is the sweetestand noblest when honor is his theme; if you do not know how to listen toD'Artagnan, the frankest and honestest voice of sincerity, you are a badking, and to-morrow will be a poor king. And learn from me, sire, thatbad kings are hated by their people, and poor kings are drivenignominiously away.' That is what I had to say to you, sire; you arewrong to have driven me to do it."

  The king threw himself back in his chair, cold as death, and livid as acorpse. Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, he could not have beenmore astonished; he seemed as if his respiration had utterly ceased, andthat he was at the point of death. The honest voice of sincerity, asD'Artagnan had called it, had pierced through his heart like a swordblade.

  D'Artagnan had said all he had to say. Comprehending the king's anger,he drew his sword, and, approaching Louis XIV. respectfully, he placedit on the table. But the king, with a furious gesture, thrust aside thesword, which fell on the ground and rolled to D'Artagnan's feet.Notwithstanding the perfect mastery which D'Artagnan exercised overhimself, he, too, in his turn, became pale, and, trembling withindignation, said, "A king may disgrace a soldier--he may exile him, andmay even condemn him to death; but were he a hundred times a king, hehas no right to insult him by casting a dishonor upon his sword! Sire, aking of France has never repulsed with contempt the sword of a man suchas I am! Stained with disgrace as this sword now is, it has henceforthno other sheath than either your heart or my own; I choose my own, sire;and you have to thank Heaven and my own patience that I do so." Thensnatching up his sword, he cried, "My blood be upon your head!" and witha rapid gesture he placed the hilt upon the floor and directed the pointof the blade toward his breast. The king, however, with a movement farmore rapid than that of D'Artagnan, threw his right arm round themusketeer's neck, and with his left hand seized hold of the blade by themiddle, and returned it silently to the scabbard. D'Artagnan, upright,pale, and still trembling, let the king do all to the very end. Louis,overcome and softened by gentler feelings, returned to the table, took apen in his hand, wrote a few lines, signed them, and then held it out toD'Artagnan.

  "What is this paper, sire?" inquired the captain.

  "An order for M. d'Artagnan to set the Comte de la Fere at libertyimmediately."

  D'Artagnan seized the king's hand and imprinted a kiss upon it; he thenfolded the order, placed it in his belt, and quitted the room. Neitherthe king nor the captain had said a syllable.

  "Oh, human heart! the guide and director of kings," murmured Louis, whenalone, "when shall I learn to read in your inmost recesses, as in theleaves of a book! No, I am not a bad king--nor am I a poor king; but Iam still a child, after all."