“Monsieur,” said he, “we are no longer here on board the King’s fleet, where, in virtue of your order, you spoke so arrogantly to me just now.”
“Monsieur,” replied the officer, “I did not speak arrogantly to you; I simply, but rigorously, obeyed what I had been commanded. I have been directed to follow you. I follow you. I am directed not to allow you to communicate with any one without taking cognisance of what you do; I mix myself, therefore, with your communications.”
D‘Artagnan trembled with rage, and Porthos and Aramis, who heard this dialogue, trembled likewise, but with uneasiness and fear. D’Artagnan, biting his moustache with that vivacity which denoted in him the state of an exasperation closely to be followed by a terrible explosion, approached the officer.
“Monsieur,” said he, in a low voice, so much the more impressive, that affecting a calm it threatened a tempest—“monsieur, when I sent a canoe hither, you wished to know what I wrote to the defenders of Belle-Isle. You produced an order to that effect; and, in my turn, I instantly showed you the note I had written. When the skipper of the boat sent by me returned, when I received the reply of these two gentlemen (and he pointed to Aramis and Porthos), you heard every word of what the messenger said. All that was plainly in your orders, all that was well executed, very punctually, was it not?”
“Yes, monsieur,” stammered the officer; “yes, without doubt, but—”
“Monsieur,” continued d’Artagnan, growing warm—“monsieur, when I manifested the intention of quitting my vessel to cross to Belle-Isle, you required to accompany me; I did not hesitate; I brought you with me. You are now at Belle-Isle, are you not?”
“Yes, monsieur, but—”
“But—the question no longer is of M. Colbert, who has given you that order, or of whomsoever in the world you are following the instructions: the question now is of a man who is a clog upon M. d‘Artagnan, and who is alone with M. d’Artagnan upon steps whose feet are bathed by thirty feet of salt water; a bad position for that man, a bad position, monsieur! I warn you.”
“But, monsieur, if I am a restraint upon you,” said the officer timidly, and almost faintly, “it is my duty which—”
“Monsieur, you have had the misfortune, you or those who sent you, to insult me. It is done. I cannot seek redress from those who employ you—they are unknown to me, or are at too great a distance. But you are under my hand, and I swear that if you make one step behind me when I raise my feet to go up to those gentlemen—I swear to you by my name, I will cleave your head in two with my sword, and pitch you into the water. Oh! it will happen! it will happen! I have only been six times angry in my life, monsieur, and, on the five times which have preceded this, I have killed my man.”
The officer did not stir; he became pale under this terrible threat, but replied with simplicity, “Monsieur, you are wrong in acting against my orders.”
Porthos and Aramis, mute and trembling at the top of the parapet, cried to the musketeer, “Dear d’Artagnan, take care!”
D‘Artagnan made them a sign to keep silence, raised his foot with a terrifying calmness to mount the stair, and turned round, sword in hand, to see if the officer followed him. The officer made a sign of the cross and stepped up. Porthos and Aramis, who knew their d’Artagnan, uttered a cry, and rushed down to prevent the blow they thought they already heard. But d’Artagnan, passing his sword into his left hand—
“Monsieur,” said he to the officer, in an agitated voice, “you are a brave man. You ought better to comprehend what I am going to say to you now than that which I have just said to you.”
“Speak, Monsieur d’Artagnan, speak,” replied the brave officer.
“These gentlemen we have just seen, and against whom you have orders, are my friends.”
“I know they are, monsieur.”
“You can understand if I ought to act towards them as your instructions prescribe.”
“I understand your reserves.”
“Very well; permit me, then, to converse with them without a witness.”
“Monsieur d‘Artagnan, if I yielded to your request, if I did that which you beg me to do, I should break my word; but if I do not do it, I shall disoblige you. I prefer the one to the other. Converse with your friends, and do not despise me, monsieur, for doing for the sake of you, whom I esteem and honour; do not despise me for committing for you, and you alone, an unworthy act.” D’Artagnan, much agitated, passed his arms rapidly round the neck of the young man, and went up to his friends. The officer, enveloped in his cloak, sat down on the damp weed-covered steps.
“Well!” said d’Artagnan to his friends, “such is my position; judge for yourselves.” They all three embraced. All three pressed each other in their arms as in the glorious days of their youth.
“What is the meaning of all these rigours?” said Porthos.
“You ought to have some suspicions of what it is,” said d’Artagnan.
“Not much, I assure you, my dear captain; for, in fact, I have done nothing, no more has Aramis,” hastened the worthy baron to say.
D’Artagnan darted a reproachful look at the prelate, which penetrated that hardened heart.
“Dear Porthos!” cried the Bishop of Vannes.
“You see what has been done against you,” said d‘Artagnan; “interception of all that is coming to or going from Belle-Isle. Your boats are all seized. If you had endeavoured to fly, you would have fallen into the hands of the cruisers which plough the sea in all directions on the watch for you. The King wants you to be taken, and he will take you.” And d’Artagnan tore several hairs from his grey moustache. Aramis became sombre, Porthos angry.
“My idea was this,” continued d’Artagnan; “to make you both come on board, to keep you near me, and restore you your liberty. But now, who can say that when I return to my ship, I may not find a superior; that I may not find secret orders which will take from me my command, and give it to another, who will dispose of me and you without hopes of help?”
“We must remain at Belle-Isle,” said Aramis resolutely; “and I assure you, for my part, I will not surrender easily.” Porthos said nothing. D’Artagnan remarked the silence of his friend.
“I have another trial to make of this officer, of this brave fellow who accompanies me, and whose courageous resistance makes me very happy; for it denotes an honest man, who, although an enemy, is a thousand times better than a complaisant coward. Let us try to learn from him what he has the right of doing, and what his orders permit or forbid.”
“Let us try,” said Aramis.
D‘Artagnan came to the parapet, leaned over towards the steps of the mole, and called the officer, who immediately came up. “Monsieur,” said d’Artagnan, after having exchanged the most cordial courtesies, natural between gentlemen, who know and appreciate each other worthily—“monsieur, if I wished to take away these gentlemen, what would you do?”
“I should not oppose it, monsieur; but having direct orders, formal orders to take them under my guard, I should detain them.”
“Ah!” said d’Artagnan.
“That’s all over,” said Aramis gloomily. Porthos did not stir.
“But still take Porthos,” said the Bishop of Vannes; “he can prove to the King, I will help him in doing so, and you also can, Monsieur d’Artagnan, that he has had nothing to do in this affair.”
“Hum!” said d’Artagnan. “Will you come? Will you follow me, Porthos? The King is merciful.”
“I beg to reflect,” said Porthos nobly.
“You will remain here, then?”
“Until fresh orders,” cried Aramis, with vivacity.
“Until we have had an idea,” resumed d’Artagnan; “and I now believe that will not be long first, for I have one already.”
“Let us say adieu, then,” said Aramis; “but in truth, my good Porthos, you ought to go.”
“No!” said the latter laconically.
“As you please,” replied Aramis, a little wounded in his nervous
susceptibility at the morose tone of his companion. “Only I am reassured by the promise of an idea from d’Artagnan, an idea I fancy I have divined.”
“Let us see,” said the musketeer, placing his ear near Aramis’s mouth. The latter spoke several words rapidly to which d’Artagnan replied, “That is it, precisely.”
“Infallible, then!” cried Aramis.
“During the first emotion that this resolution will cause, take care of yourself, Aramis.”
“Oh! don’t be afraid.”
“Now, monsieur,” said d’Artagnan to the officer, “thanks, a thousand thanks! You have made yourself three friends for life.”
“Yes,” added Aramis. Porthos alone said nothing, but merely bowed.
D‘Artagnan, having tenderly embraced his two old friends, left Belle-Isle with the inseparable companion M. Colbert had given him. Thus, with the exception of the explanation with which the worthy Porthos had been willing to be satisfied, nothing had changed in appearance in the fate of the one or the other. “Only,” said Aramis, “there is d’Artagnan’s idea.”
D‘Artagnan did not return on board without examining to the bottom the idea he had discovered. Now, we know that when d’Artagnan did examine, according to custom, daylight pierced through. As to the officer, become mute again, he left him full measure to meditate. Therefore, on putting his foot on board his vessel, moored within cannon-shot of the island, the captain of the musketeers had already got together all his means, offensive and defensive.
He immediately assembled his council, which consisted of the officers serving under his orders. These were eight in number: a chief of the maritime forces, a major directing the artillery, an engineer, the officer we are acquainted with, and four lieutenants. Having assembled them in the chamber of the poop, d’Artagnan arose, took off his hat, and addressed them thus:—
“Gentlemen, I have been to reconnoitre Belle-Isle-en-Mer, and I have found it a good and solid garrison; moreover, preparations are made for a defence that may prove troublesome. I therefore intend to send for two of the principal officers of the place, that we may converse with them. Having separated them from their troops and their cannon, we shall be better able to deal with them; particularly with good reasoning. Is this your opinion, gentlemen?”
The major of artillery rose.
“Monsieur,” said he, with respect, but with firmness, “I have heard you say that the place is preparing to make a troublesome defence. The place is then, as you know, determined upon rebellion.”
D’Artagnan was visibly put out by this reply; but he was not a man to allow himself to be subdued by so little, and resumed: —
“Monsieur,” said he, “your reply is just. But you are ignorant that Belle-Isle is a fief of M. Fouquet’s, and the ancient kings gave the right to the seigneurs of Belle-Isle to arm their people. ”
The major made a movement.
“Oh! do not interrupt me,” continued d’Artagnan. “You are going to tell me that that right to arm themselves against the English was not a right to arm themselves against their king. But it is not M. Fouquet, I suppose, who holds Belle-Isle at this moment, since I arrested M. Fouquet the day before yesterday. Now the inhabitants and defenders of Belle-Isle know nothing of that arrest. You would announce it to them in vain. It is a thing so unheard-of and so extraordinary, so unexpected, that they would not believe you. A Breton serves his master, and not his masters; he serves his master till he has seen him dead. Now the Bretons, as far as I know, have not seen the body of M. Fouquet. It is not then surprising that they hold out against that which is not M. Fouquet or his signature.”
The major bowed in sign of assent.
“That is why,” continued d’Artagnan, “I propose to cause two of the principal officers of the garrison to come on board my vessel. They will see you, gentlemen; they will see the forces we have at our disposal; they will consequently know to what they have to trust, and the fate that attends them in case of rebellion. We will affirm to them, upon our honour, that M. Fouquet is a prisoner, and that all resistance can only be prejudicial to them. We will tell them that the first cannon that is fired, there will be no mercy to be expected from the King. Then, I hope at least, that they will no longer resist. They will yield without fighting, and we shall have a place given up to us in a friendly way, which it might cost us much trouble to subdue.”
The officer who had followed d‘Artagnan to Belle-Isle was preparing to speak, but d’Artagnan interrupted him.
“Yes, I know what you are going to tell me, monsieur; I know that there is an order of the King’s to prevent all secret communications with the defenders of Belle-Isle, and that is exactly why I do not offer to communicate but in the presence of my staff.”
And d’Artagnan made an inclination of the head to his officers, which had for its object attaching a value to that condescension.
The officers looked at each other as if to read their opinions in their eyes, with the intention of evidently acting, after they should have agreed, according to the desire of d‘Artagnan. And already the latter saw with joy that the result of their consent would be sending a barque to Porthos and Aramis, when the King’s officer drew from his pocket a folded paper, which he placed in the hands of d’Artagnan.
The paper bore upon its superscription the number 1.
“What! more still!” murmured the surprised captain.
“Read, monsieur,” said the officer, with a courtesy that was not free from sadness.
D’Artagnan, full of mistrust, unfolded the paper, and read these words:
“Prohibition to M. d’Artagnan to assemble any council whatever, or to deliberate in any way before Belle-Isle be surrendered and the prisoners shot. Signed, LOUIS.”
D’Artagnan repressed the movement of impatience that ran through his whole body, and, with a gracious smile,—
“That is well, monsieur,” said he; “the King’s orders shall be complied with.”
72
Result of the Ideas of the King, and the Ideas of d’Artagnan
THE BLOW WAS DIRECT. It was severe, mortal. D‘Artagnan, furious at having been anticipated by an idea of the King’s, did not, however, yet despair; and, reflecting upon the idea he had brought back from Belle-Isle, he augured from it a new means of safety for his friends.
“Gentlemen,” said he suddenly, “since the King has charged some other than myself with his secret orders, it must be because I no longer possess his confidence, and I should be really unworthy of it, if I had the courage to hold a command subject to so many injurious suspicions. I will go then immediately and carry my resignation to the King. I give it before you all, en-joining you all to fall back with me upon the coast of France, in such a way as not to compromise the safety of the forces His Majesty has confided to me. For this purpose, return all to your posts; within an hour we shall have the ebb of the tide. To your posts, gentlemen! I suppose,” added he, on seeing that all prepared to obey him, except the surveillant officer, “you have no orders to object, this time?”
And d‘Artagnan almost triumphed while speaking these words. This plan was the safety of his friends. The blockade once raised, they might embark immediately and set sail for England or Spain, without fear of being molested. Whilst they were making their escape, d’Artagnan would return to the King; would justify his return by the indignation which the mistrusts of Colbert had raised in him; he would be sent back with full powers, and he would take Belle-Isle, that is to say, the cage, after the birds had flown. But to this plan the officer opposed a second order of the King’s. It was thus conceived:
“From the moment M. d‘Artagnan shall have manifested the desire of giving in his resignation, he shall no longer be reckoned leader of the expedition, and every officer placed under his orders shall be held to no longer obey him. Moreover, the said Monsieur d’Artagnan having lost that quality of leader of the army sent against Belle-Isle, shall set out immediately for France, in company of the officer who will have remitted the mes
sage to him, and who will consider him as a prisoner for whom he is answerable.”
Brave and careless as he was, d’Artagnan turned pale. Everything had been calculated with a depth which, for the first time in thirty years, had recalled to him the solid foresight and the inflexible logic of the great Cardinal. He leant his head on his hand, thoughtful, scarcely breathing. “If I were to put this order into my pocket,” thought he, “who would know it, or who would prevent my doing it? Before the King had had time to be informed, I should have saved those poor fellows yonder. Let us exercise a little audacity! My head is not one of those which the executioner strikes off for disobedience. We will disobey!” But at the moment he was about to adopt this plan, he saw the officers around him reading similar orders which the infernal agent of the thoughts of Colbert had just distributed to them. The case of disobedience had been foreseen, as the others had been.
“Monsieur,” said the officer, coming up to him, “I await your good pleasure to depart.”
“I am ready, monsieur,” replied d’Artagnan, grinding his teeth.
The officer immediately commanded a canoe to receive M. d’Artagnan and himself. At sight of this he became almost mad with rage.
“How,” stammered he, “will you carry on the direction of the different corps?”
“When you are gone, monsieur,” replied the commander of the fleet, “it is to me the direction of the whole is committed.”
“Then, monsieur,” rejoined Colbert’s man, addressing the new leader, “it is for you that this last order that has been remitted to me is intended. Let us see your powers.”
“Here they are,” said the sea officer, exhibiting a royal signature.
“Here are your instructions,” replied the officer, placing the folded paper in his hands; and turning towards d’Artagnan, “come, monsieur,” said he in an agitated voice (such despair did he behold in that man of iron), “do me the favour to depart at once.”
“Immediately!” articulated d’Artagnan feebly, subdued, crushed by implacable impossibility.
Man in the Iron Mask (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 66