CHAPTER XXXV.
THE AMBASSADORS.
D'Artagnan had, with very few exceptions, learned almost all theparticulars of what we have just been relating; for among his friends hereckoned all the useful, serviceable people in the royalhousehold--officious attendants who were proud of being recognized bythe captain of the musketeers, for the captain's influence was verygreat, and then, in addition to any ambitious views they may haveimagined he could promote, they were proud of being regarded as worthbeing spoken to by a man as brave as D'Artagnan. In this mannerD'Artagnan learned every morning what he had not been able either to seeor to ascertain the night before, from the simple fact of his not beingubiquitous; so that, with the information he had been able by his ownmeans to pick up during the day, and with what he had gathered fromothers, he succeeded in making up a bundle of weapons, which he untiedas occasion might require. In this way D'Artagnan's two eyes renderedhim the same service as the hundred eyes of Argus. Political secrets,bedside revelations, hints or scraps of conversation dropped by thecourtiers on the threshold of the royal antechamber, in this wayD'Artagnan managed to ascertain and to put away everything in the vastand impenetrable tomb of his memory, by the side of those royal secretsso dearly bought and faithfully preserved. He therefore knew of theking's interview with Colbert, and of the appointment made for theambassadors in the morning, and consequently he knew that the questionof the medals would be brought under debate; and, while he was arrangingand constructing the conversation upon a few chance words which hadreached his ears, he returned to his post in the royal apartments, so asto be there at the very moment the king would awake. It happened thatthe king woke very early--proving thereby that he, too, on his side, hadslept but indifferently. Toward seven o'clock, he half-opened his doorvery gently. D'Artagnan was at his post. His majesty was pale, andseemed wearied; he had not, moreover, quite finished dressing.
"Send for M. de Saint-Aignan," he said.
Saint-Aignan very probably awaited a summons, for the messenger, when hereached his apartment, found him already dressed. Saint-Aignan hastenedto the king in obedience to the summons. A moment afterward the king andSaint-Aignan passed by together, but the king walking first. D'Artagnanwent to the window which looked out upon the courtyards; he had no needto put himself to the trouble of watching in what direction the kingwent, for he had no difficulty in guessing beforehand where his majestywas going. The king, in fact, bent his steps toward the apartments ofthe maids of honor--a circumstance which in no way astonishedD'Artagnan, for he more than suspected, although La Valliere had notbreathed a syllable on the subject, that the king had some kind ofreparation to make. Saint-Aignan followed him as he had done theprevious evening, rather less uneasy in his mind, though still slightlyagitated, for he fervently trusted that at seven o'clock in the morningthere might be only himself and the king awake among the august guestsat the palace. D'Artagnan stood at the window, careless and perfectlycalm in his manner. One could almost have sworn that he noticed nothingand was utterly ignorant who were these two hunters after adventures,who were passing across the courtyards, wrapped up in their cloaks. Andyet, all the while that D'Artagnan appeared not to be looking at them atall, he did not for one moment lose sight of them, and while he whistledthat old march of the musketeers, which he rarely recalled except undergreat emergencies, he conjectured and prophesied how terrible would bethe storm which would be raised on the king's return. In fact, when theking entered La Vallieire's apartment and found the room empty and thebed untouched, he began to be alarmed, and called out to Montalais, whoimmediately answered the summons; but her astonishment was equal to theking's. All that she could tell his majesty was, that she had fanciedshe had heard La Valliere weep during a portion of the night, but,knowing that his majesty had returned, she had not dared to inquire whatwas the matter.
"But," inquired the king, "where do you suppose she is gone to?"
"Sire," replied Montalais, "Louise is of a very sentimental disposition,and as I have often seen her rise at daybreak in order to go out intothe garden, she may perhaps be there now."
This appeared probable, and the king immediately ran down the staircasein search of the fugitive. D'Artagnan saw him appear very pale, andtalking in an excited manner with his companion, as he went toward thegardens; Saint-Aignan following him, out of breath. D'Artagnan did notstir from the window, but went on whistling, looking as if he sawnothing and yet seeing everything. "Come, come," he murmured, when theking disappeared, "his majesty's passion is stronger than I thought; heis now doing, I think, what he never did for Mademoiselle de Mancini."
In a quarter of an hour the king again appeared: he had lookedeverywhere, was completely out of breath, and, as a matter of course,had not discovered anything. Saint-Aignan, who still followed him, wasfanning himself with his hat, and, in a gasping voice, asking forinformation about La Valliere from such of the servants as were about,in fact, from every one he met. Among others he came across Manicamp,who had arrived from Fontainebleau by easy stages; for while others hadperformed the journey in six hours, he had taken four-and-twenty.
"Have you seen Mademoiselle de la Valliere?" Saint-Aignan asked him.
Whereupon Manicamp, dreamy and absent as usual, answered, thinking thatsome one was asking him about De Guiche, "Thank you, the comte is alittle better."
And he continued on his way until he reached the antechamber whereD'Artagnan was, and whom he asked to explain how it was the king looked,as he thought, so bewildered; to which D'Artagnan replied that he wasquite mistaken; that the king, on the contrary, was as lively and merryas he could possibly be.
In the midst of all this, eight o'clock struck. It was usual for theking to take his breakfast at this hour, for the code of etiquetteprescribed that the king should always be hungry at eight o'clock. Hisbreakfast was laid upon a small table in his bedroom, and he ate veryfast. Saint-Aignan, of whom he would not lose sight, held his napkin inhis hand. He then disposed of several military audiences, during whichhe dispatched Saint-Aignan to see what he could find out. Then, stilloccupied, still full of anxiety, still watching Saint-Aignan's return,who had sent out his servants in every direction, to make inquiries, andwho had also gone himself, the hour of nine struck, and the kingforthwith passed into his large cabinet.
As the clock was striking nine the ambassadors entered, and as itfinished the two queens and Madame made their appearance. There werethree ambassadors from Holland, and two from Spain. The king glanced atthem, and then bowed: and, at the same moment, Saint-Aignan entered--anentrance which the king regarded as far more important, in a differentsense, however, than that of the ambassadors, however numerous theywere, and from whatever country they came: and so, setting everythingelse aside, the king made a sign of interrogation to Saint-Aignan, whichthe latter answered by a most decisive negative. The king almostentirely lost his courage; but as the queens, the members of thenobility who were present, and the ambassadors, had their eyes fixedupon him, he overcame his emotion by a violent effort, and invited thelatter to speak. Whereupon one of the Spanish deputies made a longoration, in which he boasted the advantages which the Spanish alliancewould offer.
The king interrupted him, saying, "Monsieur, I trust that whatever isadvantageous for France must be exceedingly advantageous for Spain."
This remark, and particularly the peremptory tone in which it waspronounced, made the ambassadors pale, and brought the color into thecheeks of the two queens, who, being Spanish, felt wounded by this replyin their pride of relationship and nationality.
The Dutch ambassador then began to address himself to the king, andcomplained of the injurious suspicions which the king exhibited againstthe government of his country.
The king interrupted him, saying, "It is very singular, monsieur, thatyou should come with any complaint, when it is I rather who have reasonto be dissatisfied; and yet, you see, I do not complain."
"Complain, sire; and in what respect?"
The king smiled bitterly. "Will yo
u blame me, monsieur," he said, "if Ishould happen to entertain suspicions against a government whichauthorizes and protects public insulters?"
"Sire!"
"I tell you," resumed the king, exciting himself by a recollection ofhis own personal annoyance, rather than from political grounds, "thatHolland is a land of refuge for all who hate me, and especially for allwho malign me."
"Oh, sire!"
"You wish for proofs, perhaps? Very good: they can be had easily enough.Whence proceed all those insulting pamphlets which represent me as amonarch without glory and without authority; your printing-presses groanunder their number. If my secretaries were here, I would mention thetitles of the works as well as the names of the printers."
"Sire," replied the ambassador, "a pamphlet can hardly be regarded asthe work of a whole nation. Is it just, is it reasonable, that a greatand powerful monarch like your majesty should render a whole nationresponsible for the crime of a few madmen, who are starving or dying ofhunger?"
"That may be the case, I admit. But when the mint at Amsterdam strikesoff medals which reflect disgrace upon me, is that also the crime of afew madmen?"
"Medals!" stammered out the ambassador.
"Medals," repeated the king, looking at Colbert.
"Your majesty," the ambassador ventured, "should be quite sure--"
The king still looked at Colbert; but Colbert appeared not to understandhim, and maintained an unbroken silence, notwithstanding the king'srepeated hints. D'Artagnan then approached the king, and taking a pieceof money out of his pocket, he placed it in the king's hands, saying,"That is the medal your majesty alludes to."
The king looked at it, and with a glance which, ever since he had becomehis own master, had been always soaring in its gaze, observed aninsulting device representing Holland arresting the progress of the sun,with this inscription: "_In conspectu meo stetit sol._"
"'In my presence the sun stands still,'" exclaimed the king furiously."Ah! you will hardly deny it now, I suppose."
"And the sun," said D'Artagnan, "is this," as he pointed to the panelsof the cabinet, where the sun was brilliantly represented in everydirection with this motto, "_Nec pluribus impar._"
Louis' anger, increased by the bitterness of his own personalsufferings, hardly required this additional circumstance to foment it.Every one saw, from the kindling passion in the king's eyes, that anexplosion was most imminent. A look from Colbert kept back the stormfrom bursting forth. The ambassador ventured to frame excuses by sayingthat the vanity of nations was a matter of little consequence; thatHolland was proud that, with such limited resources, she had maintainedher rank as a great nation, even against powerful monarchs, and that ifa little smoke had intoxicated his country men, the king would bekindly disposed, and would excuse this intoxication. The king seemed asif he would be glad of some one's advice; he looked at Colbert, whoremained impassible; then at D'Artagnan, who simply shrugged hisshoulders, a movement which was like the opening of the flood-gates,whereby the king's anger, which he had restrained for so long a period,now burst forth. As no one knew what direction his anger might take, allpreserved a dead silence. The second ambassador took advantage of it tobegin his excuses also. While he was speaking, and while the king, whohad again gradually returned to his own personal reflections, listenedto the voice, full of nervous anxiety, with the air of an absent manlistening to the murmuring of a cascade, D'Artagnan, on whose left handSaint-Aignan was standing, approached the latter, and, in a voice whichwas loud enough to reach the king's ears, said: "Have you heard thenews?"
"What news?" said Saint-Aignan.
"About La Valliere?"
The king started, and involuntarily advanced a step nearer to them.
"What has happened to La Valliere?" inquired Saint-Aignan, in a tonewhich can very easily be imagined.
"Ah, poor girl! she is going to take the veil."
"The veil!" exclaimed Saint-Aignan.
"The veil!" cried the king, in the midst of the ambassador's discourse;but then, mindful of the rules of etiquette, he mastered himself, stilllistening, however, with rapt attention.
"What order?" inquired Saint-Aignan.
"The Carmelites of Chaillot."
"Who the deuce told you that?"
"She did herself."
"You have seen her, then?"
"Nay, I even went with her to the Carmelites."
The king did not lose a syllable of this conversation, and again hecould hardly control his feelings.
"But what was the cause of her flight?" inquired Saint-Aignan.
"Because the poor girl was driven away from the court yesterday,"replied D'Artagnan.
He had no sooner said this, than the king, with an authoritativegesture, said to the ambassador, "Enough, monsieur, enough!" Then,advancing toward the captain, he exclaimed, "Who says that La Valliereis going to take the religious vows?"
"M. d'Artagnan," answered the favorite.
"Is it true what you say?" said the king, turning toward the musketeer.
"As true as truth itself."
The king clenched his hands, and turned pale. "You have somethingfurther to add, M. d'Artagnan?" he said.
"I know nothing more, sire."
"You added that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had been driven away fromthe court."
"Yes, sire."
"Is that true also?"
"Ascertain it for yourself, sire."
"And from whom?"
"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, like a man declining to say anything further.
The king almost bounded from his seat, regardless of ambassadors,ministers, courtiers, and politics. The queen-mother rose; she had heardeverything, or, if she had not heard everything, she had guessed it.Madame, almost fainting from anger and fear, endeavored to rise as thequeen-mother had done; but she sank down again upon her chair, which, byan instinctive movement, she made roll back a few paces.
"Gentlemen," said the king, "the audience is over; I will communicate myanswer, or rather my will, to Spain and to Holland;" and with a proud,imperious gesture, he dismissed the ambassadors.
"Take care, my son," said the queen-mother, indignantly, "take care; youare hardly master of yourself, I think."
"Ah, madame," returned the young lion, with a terrible gesture, "if I amnot master of myself, I will be, I promise you, of those who do meoutrage. Come with me, M. d'Artagnan, come." And he quitted the room inthe midst of a general stupefaction and dismay. The king hastilydescended the staircase, and was about to cross the courtyard.
"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "your majesty mistakes the way."
"No; I am going to the stables."
"That is useless, sire, for I have horses ready for your majesty."
The king's only answer was a look, but this look promised more than theambition of three D'Artagnans could have dared to hope.