Vingt ans après. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  65. The Workmen.

  Toward midnight Charles heard a great noise beneath his window. It arosefrom blows of hammer and hatchet, clinking of pincers and cranching ofsaws.

  Lying dressed upon his bed, the noise awoke him with a start and found agloomy echo in his heart. He could not endure it, and sent Parry to askthe sentinel to beg the workmen to strike more gently and not disturbthe last slumber of one who had been their king. The sentinel wasunwilling to leave his post, but allowed Parry to pass.

  Arriving at the window Parry found an unfinished scaffold, over whichthey were nailing a covering of black serge. Raised to the height oftwenty feet, so as to be on a level with the window, it had two lowerstories. Parry, odious as was this sight to him, sought for those amongsome eight or ten workmen who were making the most noise; and fixed ontwo men, who were loosening the last hooks of the iron balcony.

  "My friends," said Parry, mounting the scaffold and standing besidethem, "would you work a little more quietly? The king wishes to get asleep."

  One of the two, who was standing up, was of gigantic size and wasdriving a pick with all his might into the wall, whilst the other,kneeling beside him, was collecting the pieces of stone. The face of thefirst was lost to Parry in the darkness; but as the second turned aroundand placed his finger on his lips Parry started back in amazement.

  "Very well, very well," said the workman aloud, in excellent English."Tell the king that if he sleeps badly to-night he will sleep betterto-morrow night."

  These blunt words, so terrible if taken literally, were received by theother workmen with a roar of laughter. But Parry withdrew, thinking hewas dreaming.

  Charles was impatiently awaiting his return. At the moment here-entered, the sentinel who guarded the door put his head through theopening, curious as to what the king was doing. The king was lying onhis bed, resting on his elbow. Parry closed the door and approaching theking, his face radiant with joy:

  "Sire," he said, in a low voice, "do you know who these workmen are whoare making so much noise?"

  "I? No; how would you have me know?"

  Parry bent his head and whispered to the king: "It is the Comte de laFere and his friends."

  "Raising my scaffold!" cried the king, astounded.

  "Yes, and at the same time making a hole in the wall."

  The king clasped his hands and raised his eyes to Heaven; then leapingdown from his bed he went to the window, and pulling aside the curtaintried to distinguish the figures outside, but in vain.

  Parry was not wrong. It was Athos he had recognized, and Porthos who wasboring a hole through the wall.

  This hole communicated with a kind of loft--the space between the floorof the king's room and the ceiling of the one below it. Their plan wasto pass through the hole they were making into this loft and cut outfrom below a piece of the flooring of the king's room, so as to form akind of trap-door.

  Through this the king was to escape the next night, and, hidden by theblack covering of the scaffold, was to change his dress for that of aworkman, slip out with his deliverers, pass the sentinels, who wouldsuspect nothing, and so reach the skiff that was waiting for him atGreenwich.

  Day gilded the tops of the houses. The aperture was finished and Athospassed through it, carrying the clothes destined for the king wrapped inblack cloth, and the tools with which he was to open a communicationwith the king's room. He had only two hours' work to do to opencommunication with the king and, according to the calculations of thefour friends, they had the entire day before them, since, theexecutioner being absent, another must be sent for to Bristol.

  D'Artagnan returned to change his workman's clothes for hischestnut-colored suit, and Porthos to put on his red doublet. As forAramis, he went off to the bishop's palace to see if he could possiblypass in with Juxon to the king's presence. All three agreed to meet atnoon in Whitehall Place to see how things went on.

  Before leaving the scaffold Aramis had approached the opening whereAthos was concealed to tell him that he was about to make an attempt togain another interview with the king.

  "Adieu, then, and be of good courage," said Athos. "Report to the kingthe condition of affairs. Say to him that when he is alone it will helpus if he will knock on the floor, for then I can continue my work insafety. Try, Aramis, to keep near the king. Speak loud, very loud, forthey will be listening at the door. If there is a sentinel within theapartment, kill him without hesitation. If there are two, let Parry killone and you the other. If there are three, let yourself be slain, butsave the king."

  "Be easy," said Aramis; "I will take two poniards and give one to Parry.Is that all?"

  "Yes, go; but urge the king strongly not to stand on false generosity.While you are fighting if there is a fight, he must flee. The trap oncereplaced over his head, you being on the trap, dead or alive, they willneed at least ten minutes to find the hole by which he has escaped. Inthose ten minutes we shall have gained the road and the king will besaved."

  "Everything shall be done as you say, Athos. Your hand, for perhaps weshall not see each other again."

  Athos put his arm around Aramis's neck and embraced him.

  "For you," he said. "Now if I die, say to D'Artagnan that I love him asa son, and embrace him for me. Embrace also our good and brave Porthos.Adieu."

  "Adieu," said Aramis. "I am as sure now that the king will be saved as Iam sure that I clasp the most loyal hand in the world."

  Aramis parted from Athos, went down from the scaffold in his turn andtook his way to the hotel, whistling the air of a song in praise ofCromwell. He found the other two friends sitting at table before a goodfire, drinking a bottle of port and devouring a cold chicken. Porthoswas cursing the infamous parliamentarians; D'Artagnan ate in silence,revolving in his mind the most audacious plans.

  Aramis related what had been agreed upon. D'Artagnan approved with amovement of the head and Porthos with his voice.

  "Bravo!" he said; "besides, we shall be there at the time of the flight.What with D'Artagnan, Grimaud and Mousqueton, we can manage to dispatcheight of them. I say nothing about Blaisois, for he is only fit to holdthe horses. Two minutes a man makes four minutes. Mousqueton will loseanother, that's five; and in five minutes we shall have galloped aquarter of a league."

  Aramis swallowed a hasty mouthful, gulped a glass of wine and changedhis clothes.

  "Now," said he, "I'm off to the bishop's. Take care of the executioner,D'Artagnan."

  "All right. Grimaud has relieved Mousqueton and has his foot on thecellar door."

  "Well, don't be inactive."

  "Inactive, my dear fellow! Ask Porthos. I pass my life upon my legs."

  Aramis again presented himself at the bishop's. Juxon consented the morereadily to take him with him, as he would require an assistant priest incase the king should wish to communicate. Dressed as Aramis had been thenight before, the bishop got into his carriage, and the former, moredisguised by his pallor and sad countenance than his deacon's dress, gotin by his side. The carriage stopped at the door of the palace.

  It was about nine o'clock in the morning.

  Nothing was changed. The ante-rooms were still full of soldiers, thepassages still lined by guards. The king was already sanguine, but whenhe perceived Aramis his hope turned to joy. He embraced Juxon andpressed the hand of Aramis. The bishop affected to speak in a loudvoice, before every one, of their previous interview. The king repliedthat the words spoken in that interview had borne their fruit, and thathe desired another under the same conditions. Juxon turned to thosepresent and begged them to leave him and his assistant alone with theking. Every one withdrew. As soon as the door was closed:

  "Sire," said Aramis, speaking rapidly, "you are saved; the Londonexecutioner has vanished. His assistant broke his leg last night beneathyour majesty's window--the cry we heard was his--and there is noexecutioner nearer at hand than Bristol."

  "But the Comte de la Fere?" asked the king.

  "Two feet below you; take the poker from the firep
lace and strike threetimes on the floor. He will answer you."

  The king did so, and the moment after, three muffled knocks, answeringthe given signal, sounded beneath the floor.

  "So," said Charles, "he who knocks down there----"

  "Is the Comte de la Fere, sire," said Aramis. "He is preparing a way foryour majesty to escape. Parry, for his part, will raise this slab ofmarble and a passage will be opened."

  "Oh, Juxon," said the king, seizing the bishop's two hands in his own,"promise that you will pray all your life for this gentleman and for theother that you hear beneath your feet, and for two others also, who,wherever they may be, are on the watch for my safety."

  "Sire," replied Juxon, "you shall be obeyed."

  Meanwhile, the miner underneath was heard working away incessantly, whensuddenly an unexpected noise resounded in the passage. Aramis seized thepoker and gave the signal to stop; the noise came nearer and nearer. Itwas that of a number of men steadily approaching. The four men stoodmotionless. All eyes were fixed on the door, which opened slowly andwith a kind of solemnity.

  A parliamentary officer, clothed in black and with a gravity thataugured ill, entered, bowed to the king, and unfolding a parchment, readthe sentence, as is usually done to criminals before their execution.

  "What is this?" said Aramis to Juxon.

  Juxon replied with a sign which meant that he knew no more than Aramisabout it.

  "Then it is for to-day?" asked the king.

  "Was not your majesty warned that it was to take place this morning?"

  "Then I must die like a common criminal by the hand of the Londonexecutioner?"

  "The London executioner has disappeared, your majesty, but a man hasoffered his services instead. The execution will therefore only bedelayed long enough for you to arrange your spiritual and temporalaffairs."

  A slight moisture on his brow was the only trace of emotion that Charlesevinced, as he learned these tidings. But Aramis was livid. His heartceased beating, he closed his eyes and leaned upon the table. Charlesperceived it and took his hand.

  "Come, my friend," said he, "courage." Then he turned to the officer."Sir, I am ready. There is but little reason why I should delay you.Firstly, I wish to communicate; secondly, to embrace my children and bidthem farewell for the last time. Will this be permitted me?"

  "Certainly," replied the officer, and left the room.

  Aramis dug his nails into his flesh and groaned aloud.

  "Oh! my lord bishop," he cried, seizing Juxon's hands, "where isProvidence? where is Providence?"

  "My son," replied the bishop, with firmness, "you see Him not, becausethe passions of the world conceal Him."

  "My son," said the king to Aramis, "do not take it so to heart. You askwhat God is doing. God beholds your devotion and my martyrdom, andbelieve me, both will have their reward. Ascribe to men, then, what ishappening, and not to God. It is men who drive me to death; it is menwho make you weep."

  "Yes, sire," said Aramis, "yes, you are right. It is men whom I shouldhold responsible, and I will hold them responsible."

  "Be seated, Juxon," said the king, falling upon his knees. "I have nowto confess to you. Remain, sir," he added to Aramis, who had moved toleave the room. "Remain, Parry. I have nothing to say that cannot besaid before all."

  Juxon sat down, and the king, kneeling humbly before him, began hisconfession.