A Terrible Vision

The cardinal leaned his elbow on his manuscript, his cheek

upon his hand, and looked intently at the young man for a

moment. No one had a more searching eye than the Cardinal

de Richelieu, and D`Artagnan felt this glance run through

his veins like a fever.

He however kept a good countenance, holding his hat in his

hand and awaiting the good pleasure of his Eminence, without

too much assurance, but also without too much humility.

"Monsieur," said the cardinal, "are you a D`Artagnan from

Bearn?"

"Yes, monseigneur," replied the young man.

"There are several branches of the D`Artagnans at Tarbes and

in its environs," said the cardinal; "to which do you

belong?"

"I am the son of him who served in the Religious Wars under

the great King Henry, the father of his gracious Majesty."

"That is well. It is you who set out seven or eight months

ago from your country to seek your fortune in the capital?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"You came through Meung, where something befell you. I

don`t very well know what, but still something."

"Monseigneur," said D`Artagnan, "this was what happened to

me--"

"Never mind, never mind!" resumed the cardinal, with a smile

which indicated that he knew the story as well as he who

wished to relate it. "You were recommended to Monsieur de

Treville, were you not?"

"Yes, monseigneur; but in that unfortunate affair at

Meung--"

"The letter was lost," replied his Eminence; "yes, I know

that. But Monsieur de Treville is a skilled physiognomist,

who knows men at first sight; and he placed you in the

company of his brother-in-law, Monsieur Dessessart, leaving

you to hope that one day or other you should enter the

Musketeers."

"Monseigneur is correctly informed," said D`Artagnan.

"Since that time many things have happened to you. You were

walking one day behind the Chartreux, when it would have

been better if you had been elsewhere. Then you took with

your friends a journey to the waters of Forges; they stopped

on the road, but you continued yours. That is all very

simple: you had business in England."

"Monseigneur," said D`Artagnan, quite confused, "I went--"

"Hunting at Windsor, or elsewhere--that concerns nobody. I

know, because it is my office to know everything. On your

return you were received by an august personage, and I

perceive with pleasure that you preserve the souvenir she

gave you."

D`Artagnan placed his hand upon the queen`s diamond, which

he wore, and quickly turned the stone inward; but it was too

late.

"The day after that, you received a visit from Cavois,"

resumed the cardinal. "He went to desire you to come to the

palace. You have not returned that visit, and you were

wrong."

"Monseigneur, I feared I had incurred disgrace with your

Eminence."

"How could that be, monsieur? Could you incur my

displeasure by having followed the orders of your superiors

with more intelligence and courage than another would have

done? It is the people who do not obey that I punish, and

not those who, like you, obey--but too well. As a proof,

remember the date of the day on which I had you bidden to

come to me, and seek in your memory for what happened to you

that very night."

That was the very evening when the abduction of Mme.

Bonacieux took place. D`Artagnan trembled; and he likewise

recollected that during the past half hour the poor woman

had passed close to him, without doubt carried away by the

same power that had caused her disappearance.

"In short," continued the cardinal, "as I have heard nothing

of you for some time past, I wished to know what you were

doing. Besides, you owe me some thanks. You must yourself

have remarked how much you have been considered in all the

circumstances."

D`Artagnan bowed with respect.

"That," continued the cardinal, "arose not only from a

feeling of natural equity, but likewise from a plan I have

marked out with respect to you."

D`Artagnan became more and more astonished.

"I wished to explain this plan to you on the day you

received my first invitation; but you did not come.

Fortunately, nothing is lost by this delay, and you are now

about to hear it. Sit down there, before me, d`Artagnan;

you are gentleman enough not to listen standing." And the

cardinal pointed with his finger to a chair for the young

man, who was so astonished at what was passing that he

awaited a second sign from his interlocutor before he

obeyed.

"You are brave, Monsieur d`Artagnan," continued his

Eminence; "you are prudent, which is still better. I like

men of head and heart. Don`t be afraid," said he, smiling.

"By men of heart I mean men of courage. But young as you

are, and scarcely entering into the world, you have powerful

enemies; if you do not take great heed, they will destroy

you."

"Alas, monseigneur!" replied the young man, "very easily, no

doubt, for they are strong and well supported, while I am

alone."

"Yes, that`s true; but alone as you are, you have done much

already, and will do still more, I don`t doubt. Yet you

have need, I believe, to be guided in the adventurous career

you have undertaken; for, if I mistake not, you came to

Paris with the ambitious idea of making your fortune."

"I am at the age of extravagant hopes, monseigneur," said

D`Artagnan.

"There are no extravagant but for fools, monsieur, and you

are a man of understanding. Now, what would you say to an

ensign`s commission in my Guards, and a company after the

campaign?"

"Ah, monseigneur."

"You accept it, do you not?"

"Monseigneur," replied D`Artagnan, with an embarrassed air.

"How? You refuse?" cried the cardinal, with astonishment.

"I am in his Majesty`s Guards, monseigneur, and I have no

reason to be dissatisfied."

"But it appears to me that my Guards--mine--are also his

Majesty`s Guards; and whoever serves in a French corps

serves the king."

"Monseigneur, your Eminence has ill understood my words."

"You want a pretext, do you not? I comprehend. Well, you

have this excuse: advancement, the opening campaign, the

opportunity which I offer you--so much for the world. As

regards yourself, the need of protection; for it is fit you

should know, Monsieur d`Artagnan, that I have received heavy

and serious complaints against you. You do not consecrate

your days and nights wholly to the king`s service."

D`Artagnan colored.

"In fact," said the cardinal, placing his hand upon a bundle

of papers, "I have here a whole pile which concerns you. I

know you to be a man of resolution; and your services, well

directed, instead of leading you to ill, might be very

advantageous to you. Come; reflect, and decide."

"Your goodness confounds me, monseigneur," replied

D`Artagnan, "and I am conscious of a greatness of soul in

your Eminence that makes me mean as an earthworm; but since

Monseigneur permits me to speak freely--"

D`Artagnan paused.

"Yes; speak."

"Then, I will presume to say that all my friends are in the

king`s Musketeers and Guards, and that by an inconceivable

fatality my enemies are in the service of your Eminence; I

should, therefore, be ill received here and ill regarded

there if I accepted what Monseigneur offers me."

"Do you happen to entertain the haughty idea that I have not

yet made you an offer equal to your value?" asked the

cardinal, with a smile of disdain.

"Monseigneur, your Eminence is a hundred times too kind to

me; and on the contrary, I think I have not proved myself

worthy of your goodness. The siege of La Rochelle is about

to be resumed, monseigneur. I shall serve under the eye of

your Eminence, and if I have the good fortune to conduct

myself at the siege in such a manner as merits your

attention, then I shall at least leave behind me some

brilliant action to justify the protection with which you

honor me. Everything is best in its time, monseigneur.

Hereafter, perhaps, I shall have the right of giving myself;

at present I shall appear to sell myself."

"That is to say, you refuse to serve me, monsieur," said the

cardinal, with a tone of vexation, through which, however,

might be seen a sort of esteem; "remain free, then, and

guard your hatreds and your sympathies."

"Monseigneur--"

"Well, well," said the cardinal, "I don`t wish you any ill;

but you must be aware that it is quite trouble enough to

defend and recompense our friends. We owe nothing to our

enemies; and let me give you a piece of advice; take care of

yourself, Monsieur d`Artagnan, for from the moment I

withdraw my hand from behind you, I would not give an obolus

for your life."

"I will try to do so, monseigneur," replied the Gascon, with

a noble confidence.

"Remember at a later period and at a certain moment, if any

mischance should happen to you," said Richelieu,

significantly, "that it was I who came to seek you, and that

I did all in my power to prevent this misfortune befalling

you."

"I shall entertain, whatever may happen," said D`Artagnan,

placing his hand upon his breast and bowing, "an eternal

gratitude toward your Eminence for that which you now do for

me."

"Well, let it be, then, as you have said, Monsieur

d`Artagnan; we shall see each other again after the

campaign. I will have my eye upon you, for I shall be

there," replied the cardinal, pointing with his finger to a

magnificent suit of armor he was to wear, "and on our

return, well--we will settle our account!"

"Young man," said Richelieu, "if I shall be able to say to

you at another time what I have said to you today, I promise

you to do so."

This last expression of Richelieu`s conveyed a terrible

doubt; it alarmed D`Artagnan more than a menace would have

done, for it was a warning. The cardinal, then, was seeking

to preserve him from some misfortune which threatened him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but with a haughty gesture the

cardinal dismissed him.

D`Artagnan went out, but at the door his heart almost failed

him, and he felt inclined to return. Then the noble and

severe countenance of Athos crossed his mind; if he made the

compact with the cardinal which he required, Athos would no

more give him his hand--Athos would renounce him.

It was this fear that restrained him, so powerful is the

influence of a truly great character on all that surrounds

it.

D`Artagnan descended by the staircase at which he had

entered, and found Athos and the four Musketeers waiting his

appearance, and beginning to grow uneasy. With a word,

D`Artagnan reassured them; and Planchet ran to inform the

other sentinels that it was useless to keep guard longer, as

his master had come out safe from the Palais-Cardinal.

Returned home with Athos, Aramis and Porthos inquired

eagerly the cause of the strange interview; but D`Artagnan

confined himself to telling them that M. de Richelieu had

sent for him to propose to him to enter into his guards with

the rank of ensign, and that he had refused.

"And you were right," cried Aramis and Porthos, with one

voice.

Athos fell into a profound reverie and answered nothing.

But when they were alone he said, "You have done that which

you ought to have done, D`Artagnan; but perhaps you have

been wrong."

D`Artagnan sighed deeply, for this voice responded to a

secret voice of his soul, which told him that great

misfortunes awaited him.

The whole of the next day was spent in preparations for

departure. D`Artagnan went to take leave of M. de Treville.

At that time it was believed that the separation of the

Musketeers and the Guards would be but momentary, the king

holding his Parliament that very day and proposing to set

out the day after. M. de Treville contented himself with

asking D`Artagnan if he could do anything for him, but

D`Artagnan answered that he was supplied with all he wanted.

That night brought together all those comrades of the Guards

of M. Dessessart and the company of Musketeers of M. de

Treville who had been accustomed to associate together.

They were parting to meet again when it pleased God, and if

it pleased God. That night, then, was somewhat riotous, as

may be imagined. In such cases extreme preoccupation is

only to be combated by extreme carelessness.

At the first sound of the morning trumpet the friends

separated; the Musketeers hastening to the hotel of M. de

Treville, the Guards to that of M. Dessessart. Each of the

captains then led his company to the Louvre, where the king

held his review

The king was dull and appeared ill, which detracted a little

from his usual lofty bearing. In fact, the evening before,

a fever had seized him in the midst of the Parliament, while

he was holding his Bed of Justice. He had, not the less,

decided upon setting out that same evening; and in spite of

the remonstrances that had been offered to him, he persisted

in having the review, hoping by setting it at defiance to

conquer the disease which began to lay hold upon him.

The review over, the Guards set forward alone on their

march, the Musketeers waiting for the king, which allowed

Porthos time to go and take a turn in his superb equipment

in the Rue aux Ours.

The procurator`s wife saw him pass in his new uniform and on

his fine horse. She loved Porthos too dearly to allow him

to part thus; she made him a sign to dismount and come to

her. Porthos was magnificent; his spurs jingled, his

cuirass glittered, his sword knocked proudly against his

ample limbs. This time the clerks evinced no inclination to

laugh, such a real ear clipper did Porthos appear.

The Musketeer was introduced to M. Coquenard, whose little

gray eyes sparkled with anger at seeing his cousin all

blazing new. Nevertheless, one thing afforded him inward

consolation; it was expected by everybody that the campaign

would be a severe one. He whispered a hope to himself that

this beloved relative might be killed in the field.

Porthos paid his compliments to M. Coquenard and bade him

farewell. M. Coquenard wished him all sorts of

prosperities. As to Mme. Coquenard, she could not restrain

her tears; but no evil impressions were taken from her grief

as she was known to be very much attached to her relatives,

about whom she was constantly having serious disputes with

her husband.

But the real adieux were made in Mme. Coquenard`s chamber;

they were heartrending.

As long as the procurator`s wife could follow him with her

eyes, she waved her handkerchief to him, leaning so far out

of the window as to lead people to believe she wished to

precipitate herself. Porthos received all these attentions

like a man accustomed to such demonstrations, only on

turning the corner of the street he lifted his hat

gracefully, and waved it to her as a sign of adieu.

On his part Aramis wrote a long letter. To whom? Nobody

knew. Kitty, who was to set out that evening for Tours, was

waiting in the next chamber.

Athos sipped the last bottle of his Spanish wine.

In the meantime D`Artagnan was defiling with his company.

Arriving at the Faubourg St. Antoine, he turned round to

look gaily at the Bastille; but as it was the Bastille alone

he looked at, he did not observe Milady, who, mounted upon a

light chestnut horse, designated him with her finger to two

ill-looking men who came close up to the ranks to take

notice of him. To a look of interrogation which they made,

Milady replied by a sign that it was he. Then, certain that

there could be no mistake in the execution of her orders,

she started her horse and disappeared.

The two men followed the company, and on leaving the

aubourg St. Antoine, mounted two horses properly equipped,

which a servant without livery had waiting for them.

Date: 2015-01-29; view: 512