Two hours had scarcely elapsed since the departure of the master of thehouse, who, in Blaisois's sight, had taken the road to Paris, when ahorseman, mounted on a good pied horse, stopped before the gate, andwith a sonorous "hola!" called the stable-boys who, with the gardeners,had formed a circle round Blaisois, the historian-in-ordinary to thehousehold of the chateau. This "hola," doubtless well known to MasterBlaisois, made him turn his head and exclaim--"Monsieur d'Artagnan! runquickly, you chaps, and open the gate."
A swarm of eight brisk lads flew to the gate, which was opened as if ithad been made of feathers; and every one loaded him with attentions, forthey knew the welcome this friend was accustomed to receive from theirmaster; and for such remarks the eye of the valet may always be dependedupon.
"Ah!" said M. d'Artagnan, with an agreeable smile, balancing himselfupon his stirrup to jump to the ground, "where is that dear count?"
"Ah! how unfortunate you are, monsieur!" said Blaisois: "and howunfortunate will monsieur le comte our master, think himself when hehears of your coming! As ill luck will have it, monsieur le comte lefthome two hours ago."
D'Artagnan did not trouble himself about such trifles. "Very good!" saidhe. "You always speak the best French in the world; you shall give me alesson in grammar and correct language, whilst I wait the return of yourmaster."
"That is impossible, monsieur," said Blaisois; "you would have to waittoo long."
"Will he not come back to-day, then?"
"No, nor to-morrow, nor the day after to-morrow. Monsieur le comte hasgone on a journey."
"A journey!" said D'Artagnan, surprised; "that's a fable, MasterBlaisois."
"Monsieur, it is no more than the truth. Monsieur has done me the honorto give me the house in charge; and he added, with his voice so full ofauthority and kindness--that is all one to me: 'You will say I have goneto Paris.'"
"Well!" cried D'Artagnan, "since he is gone towards Paris, that is allI wanted to know! you should have told me so at first, booby! He is thentwo hours in advance?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"I shall soon overtake him. Is he alone?"
"No, monsieur."
"Who is with him, then?"
"A gentleman whom I don't know, an old man, and M. Grimaud."
"Such a party cannot travel as fast as I can--I will start."
"Will monsieur listen to me an instant?" said Blaisois, laying his handgently on the reins of the horse.
"Yes, if you don't favor me with fine speeches, and make haste."
"Well, then, monsieur, that word Paris appears to me to be only anexcuse."
"Oh, oh!" said D'Artagnan, seriously, "an excuse, eh?"
"Yes, monsieur; and monsieur le comte is not going to Paris, I willswear."
"What makes you think so?"
"This--M. Grimaud always knows where our master is going; and he hadpromised me that the first time he went to Paris, he would take a littlemoney for me to my wife."
"What, have you a wife, then?"
"I had one--she was of this country; but monsieur thought her a noisyscold, and I sent her to Paris; it is sometimes inconvenient, but veryagreeable at others."
"I understand; but go on. You do not believe the count gone to Paris?"
"No, monsieur; for then M. Grimaud would have broken his word; he wouldhave perjured himself, and that is impossible."
"That is impossible," repeated D'Artagnan, quite in a study, because hewas quite convinced. "Well, my brave Blaisois, many thanks to you."
Blaisois bowed.
"Come, you know I am not curious--I have serious business with yourmaster. Could you not, by a little bit of a word--you who speak sowell--give me to understand--one syllable, only--I will guess the rest."
"Upon my word, monsieur, I cannot. I am quite ignorant where monsieur lecomte is gone. As to listening at doors, that is contrary to my nature;and besides it is forbidden here."
"My dear fellow," said D'Artagnan, "this is a very bad beginning for me.Never mind, you know when monsieur le comte will return, at least?"
"As little, monsieur, as the place of his destination."
"Come, Blaisois, come, search."
"Monsieur doubts my sincerity? Ah, monsieur, that grieves me much."
"The devil take his gilded tongue!" grumbled D'Artagnan. "A clown with aword would be worth a dozen of him. Adieu!"
"Monsieur, I have the honor to present you my respects."
"Cuistre!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "the fellow is unbearable." Hegave another look up to the house, turned his horse's head, and set offlike a man who has nothing either annoying or embarrassing in his mind.When he was at the end of the wall, and out of sight,--"Well, now, Iwonder," said he, breathing quickly, "whether Athos was at home. No; allthose idlers, standing with their arms crossed, would have been atwork if the eye of the master was near. Athos gone a journey?--that isincomprehensible. Bah! it is all devilish mysterious! And then--no--heis not the man I want. I want one of a cunning, patient mind. Mybusiness is at Melun, in a certain presbytery I am acquainted with.Forty-five leagues--four days and a half! Well, it is fine weather, andI am free. Never mind the distance!"
And he put his horse into a trot, directing his course towards Paris. Onthe fourth day he alighted at Melun as he had intended.
D'Artagnan was never in the habit of asking any one on the road for anycommon information. For these sorts of details, unless in very seriouscircumstances, he confided in his perspicacity, which was so seldomat fault, in his experience of thirty years, and in a great habit ofreading the physiognomies of houses, as well as those of men. At Melun,D'Artagnan immediately found the presbytery--a charming house, plasteredover red brick, with vines climbing along the gutters, and a cross, incarved stone, surmounting the ridge of the roof. From the ground-floorof this house came a noise, or rather a confusion of voices, like thechirping of young birds when the brood is just hatched under the down.One of these voices was spelling the alphabet distinctly. A voice,thick, yet pleasant, at the same time scolded the talkers and correctedthe faults of the reader. D'Artagnan recognized that voice, and as thewindow of the ground-floor was open, he leant down from his horse underthe branches and red fibers of the vine and cried "Bazin, my dear Bazin!good-day to you."
A short, fat man, with a flat face, a craniun ornamented with a crownof gray hairs, cut short, in imitation of a tonsure, and covered with anold black velvet cap, arose as soon as he heard D'Artagnan--we ought notto say arose, but bounded up. In fact, Bazin bounded up, carrying withhim his little low chair, which the children tried to take away, withbattles more fierce than those of the Greeks endeavoring to recover thebody of Patroclus from the hands of the Trojans. Bazin did more thanbound; he let fall both his alphabet and his ferule. "You!" said he,"you, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"
"Yes, myself! Where is Aramis--no, M. le Chevalier d'Herblay--no, I amstill mistaken--Monsieur le Vicaire-General?"
"Ah, monsieur," said Bazin, with dignity, "monseigneur is at hisdiocese."
"What did you say?" said D'Artagnan. Bazin repeated the sentence.
"Ah, ah! but has Aramis a diocese?"
"Yes, monsieur. Why not?"
"Is he a bishop, then?"
"Why, where can you come from," said Bazin, rather irreverently, "thatyou don't know that?"
"My dear Bazin, we pagans, we men of the sword, know very well when aman is made a colonel, or maitre-de-camp, or marshal of France; butif he be made a bishop, archbishop, or pope--devil take me if the newsreaches us before the three quarters of the earth have had the advantageof it!"
"Hush! hush!" said Bazin, opening his eyes: "do not spoil these poorchildren, in whom I am endeavoring to inculcate such good principles."In fact, the children had surrounded D'Artagnan, whose horse, longsword, spurs, and martial air they very much admired. But above all,they admired his strong voice; so that, when he uttered his oath, thewhole school cried out, "The devil take me!" with fearful burstsof laughter, shouts, and bounds, which delighted the musketeer, andbewild
ered the old pedagogue.
"There!" said he, "hold your tongues, you brats! You have come, M.d'Artagnan, and all my good principles fly away. With you, as usual,comes disorder. Babel is revived. Ah! Good Lord! Ah! the wild littlewretches!" And the worthy Bazin distributed right and left blows whichincreased the cries of his scholars by changing the nature of them.
"At least," said he, "you will no longer decoy any one here."
"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan, with a smile which made a shuddercreep over the shoulders of Bazin.
"He is capable of it," murmured he.
"Where is your master's diocese?"
"Monseigneur Rene is bishop of Vannes."
"Who had him nominated?"
"Why, monsieur le surintendant, our neighbor."
"What! Monsieur Fouquet?"
"To be sure he did."
"Is Aramis on good terms with him, then?"
"Monseigneur preached every Sunday at the house of monsieur lesurintendant at Vaux; then they hunted together."
"Ah!"
"And monseigneur composed his homilies--no, I mean his sermons--withmonsieur le surintendant."
"Bah! he preached in verse, then, this worthy bishop?"
"Monsieur, for the love of heaven, do not jest with sacred things."
"There, Bazin, there! So, then, Aramis is at Vannes?"
"At Vannes, in Bretagne."
"You are a deceitful old hunks, Bazin; that is not true."
"See, monsieur, if you please; the apartments of the presbytery areempty."
"He is right there," said D'Artagnan, looking attentively at the house,the aspect of which announced solitude.
"But monseigneur must have written you an account of his promotion."
"When did it take place?"
"A month back."
"Oh! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet have wanted me. Buthow is it, Bazin, you do not follow your master?"
"Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations."
"Your alphabet?"
"And my penitents."
"What, do you confess, then? Are you a priest?"
"The same as one. I have such a call."
"But the orders?"
"Oh," said Bazin, without hesitation, "now that monseigneur is a bishop,I shall soon have my orders, or at least my dispensations." And herubbed his hands.
"Decidedly," said D'Artagnan to himself, "there will be no means ofuprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin."
"With pleasure, monsieur."
"A fowl, a bouillon, and a bottle of wine."
"This is Saturday, monsieur--it is a day of abstinence."
"I have a dispensation," said D'Artagnan.
Bazin looked at him suspiciously.
"Ah, ah, master hypocrite!" said the musketeer, "for whom do you takeme? If you, who are the valet, hope for dispensation to commit a crime,shall not I, the friend of your bishop, have dispensation for eatingmeat at the call of my stomach? Make yourself agreeable with me,Bazin, or, by heavens! I will complain to the king, and you shall neverconfess. Now you know that the nomination of bishops rests with theking--I have the king, I am the stronger."
Bazin smiled hypocritically. "Ah, but we have monsieur le surintendant,"said he.
"And you laugh at the king, then?"
Bazin made no reply; his smile was sufficiently eloquent.
"My supper," said D'Artagnan, "it is getting towards seven o'clock."
Bazin turned round and ordered the eldest of the pupils to inform thecook. In the meantime, D'Artagnan surveyed the presbytery.
"Phew!" said he, disdainfully, "monseigneur lodged his grandeur verymeanly here."
"We have the Chateau de Vaux," said Bazin.
"Which is perhaps equal to the Louvre?" said D'Artagnan, jeeringly.
"Which is better," replied Bazin, with the greatest coolness imaginable.
"Ah, ah!" said D'Artagnan.
He would perhaps have prolonged the discussion, and maintained thesuperiority of the Louvre, but the lieutenant perceived that his horseremained fastened to the bars of a gate.
"The devil!" said he. "Get my horse looked after; your master the bishophas none like him in his stables."
Bazin cast a sidelong glance at the horse, and replied, "Monsieur lesurintendant gave him four from his own stables; and each of the four isworth four of yours."
The blood mounted to the face of D'Artagnan. His hand itched and his eyeglanced over the head of Bazin, to select the place upon which he shoulddischarge his anger. But it passed away; reflection came, and D'Artagnancontented himself with saying,--
"The devil! the devil! I have done well to quit the service of theking. Tell me, worthy Master Bazin," added he, "how many musketeers doesmonsieur le surintendant retain in his service?"
"He could have all there are in the kingdom with his money," repliedBazin, closing his book, and dismissing the boys with some kindly blowsof his cane.
"The devil! the devil!" repeated D'Artagnan, once more, as if to annoythe pedagogue. But as supper was now announced, he followed the cook,who introduced him into the refectory, where it awaited him. D'Artagnanplaced himself at the table, and began a hearty attack upon his fowl.
"It appears to me," said D'Artagnan, biting with all his might at thetough fowl they had served up to him, and which they had evidentlyforgotten to fatten,--"it appears that I have done wrong in not seekingservice with that master yonder. A powerful noble this intendant,seemingly! In good truth, we poor fellows know nothing at the court, andthe rays of the sun prevent our seeing the large stars, which are alsosuns, at a little greater distance from our earth,--that is all."
As D'Artagnan delighted, both from pleasure and system, in making peopletalk about things which interested him, he fenced in his best stylewith Master Bazin, but it was pure loss of time; beyond the tiresome andhyperbolical praises of monsieur le surintendant of the finances, Bazin,who, on his side, was on his guard, afforded nothing but platitudes tothe curiosity of D'Artagnan, so that our musketeer, in a tolerably badhumor, desired to go to bed as soon as he had supped. D'Artagnan wasintroduced by Bazin into a mean chamber, in which there was a poor bed;but D'Artagnan was not fastidious in that respect. He had been told thatAramis had taken away the key of his own private apartment, and as heknew Aramis was a very particular man, and had generally many thingsto conceal in his apartment, he had not been surprised. He, therefore,although it appeared comparatively even harder, attacked the bed asbravely as he had done the fowl; and, as he had as good an inclinationto sleep as he had had to eat, he took scarcely longer time to besnoring harmoniously than he had employed in picking the last bones ofthe bird.
Since he was no longer in the service of any one, D'Artagnan hadpromised himself to indulge in sleeping as soundly as he had formerlyslept lightly; but with whatever good faith D'Artagnan had made himselfthis promise, and whatever desire he might have to keep it religiously,he was awakened in the middle of the night by a loud noise of carriages,and servants on horseback. A sudden illumination flashed over the wallsof his chamber; he jumped out of bed and ran to the window in his shirt."Can the king be coming this way?" he thought, rubbing his eyes; "intruth, such a suite can only be attached to royalty."
"Vive monsieur le surintendant!" cried, or rather vociferated, from awindow on the ground-floor, a voice which he recognized as Bazin's, whoat the same time waved a handkerchief with one hand, and held a largecandle in the other. D'Artagnan then saw something like a brillianthuman form leaning out of the principal carriage; at the same time loudbursts of laughter, caused, no doubt, by the strange figure of Bazin,and issuing from the same carriage, left, as it were, a train of joyupon the passage of the rapid cortege.
"I might easily see it was not the king," said D'Artagnan; "people don'tlaugh so heartily when the king passes. Hola, Bazin!" cried he to hisneighbor, three-quarters of whose body still hung out of the window, tofollow the carriage with his eyes as long as he could. "What is all thatabout?"
"It is M
. Fouquet," said Bazin, in a patronizing tone.
"And all those people?"
"That is the court of M. Fouquet."
"Oh, oh!" said D'Artagnan; "what would M. de Mazarin say to that if heheard it?" And he returned to his bed, asking himself how Aramisalways contrived to be protected by the most powerful personages in thekingdom. "Is it that he has more luck than I, or that I am a greaterfool than he? Bah!" that was the concluding word by the aid of whichD'Artagnan, having become wise, now terminated every thought and everyperiod of his style. Formerly he said, "Mordioux!" which was a prickof the spur, but now he had become older, and he murmured thatphilosophical "Bah!" which served as a bridle to all the passions.
CHAPTER 18. In which D'Artagnan seeks Porthos, and only finds Mousqueton