Vingt ans après. English

  83. Strength and Sagacity.

  Now let us pass the orangery to the hunting lodge. At the extremity ofthe courtyard, where, close to a portico formed of Ionic columns, werethe dog kennels, rose an oblong building, the pavilion of the orangery,a half circle, inclosing the court of honor. It was in this pavilion, onthe ground floor, that D'Artagnan and Porthos were confined, sufferinginterminable hours of imprisonment in a manner suitable to eachdifferent temperament.

  D'Artagnan was pacing to and fro like a caged tiger; with dilated eyes,growling as he paced along by the bars of a window looking upon the yardof servant's offices.

  Porthos was ruminating over an excellent dinner he had just demolished.

  The one seemed to be deprived of reason, yet he was meditating. Theother seemed to meditate, yet he was more than half asleep. But hissleep was a nightmare, which might be guessed by the incoherent mannerin which he sometimes snored and sometimes snorted.

  "Look," said D'Artagnan, "day is declining. It must be nearly fouro'clock. We have been in this place nearly eighty-three hours."

  "Hem!" muttered Porthos, with a kind of pretense of answering.

  "Did you hear, eternal sleeper?" cried D'Artagnan, irritated that anyone could doze during the day, when he had the greatest difficulty insleeping during the night.

  "What?" said Porthos.

  "I say we have been here eighty-three hours."

  "'Tis your fault," answered Porthos.

  "How, my fault?"

  "Yes, I offered you escape."

  "By pulling out a bar and pushing down a door?"

  "Certainly."

  "Porthos, men like us can't go out from here purely and simply."

  "Faith!" said Porthos, "as for me, I could go out with that purity andthat simplicity which it seems to me you despise too much."

  D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders.

  "And besides," he said, "going out of this chamber isn't all."

  "Dear friend," said Porthos, "you appear to be in a somewhat betterhumor to-day than you were yesterday. Explain to me why going out ofthis chamber isn't everything."

  "Because, having neither arms nor password, we shouldn't take fiftysteps in the court without knocking against a sentinel."

  "Very well," said Porthos, "we will kill the sentinel and we shall havehis arms."

  "Yes, but before we can kill him--and he will be hard to kill, thatSwiss--he will shriek out and the whole picket will come, and we shallbe taken like foxes, we, who are lions, and thrown into some dungeon,where we shall not even have the consolation of seeing this frightfulgray sky of Rueil, which no more resembles the sky of Tarbes than themoon is like the sun. Lack-a-day! if we only had some one to instruct usabout the physical and moral topography of this castle. Ah! when onethinks that for twenty years, during which time I did not know what todo with myself, it never occurred to me to come to study Rueil."

  "What difference does that make?" said Porthos. "We shall go out all thesame."

  "Do you know, my dear fellow, why master pastrycooks never work withtheir hands?"

  "No," said Porthos, "but I should be glad to be informed."

  "It is because in the presence of their pupils they fear that some oftheir tarts or creams may turn out badly cooked."

  "What then?"

  "Why, then they would be laughed at, and a master pastrycook must neverbe laughed at."

  "And what have master pastrycooks to do with us?"

  "We ought, in our adventures, never to be defeated or give any one achance to laugh at us. In England, lately, we failed, we were beaten,and that is a blemish on our reputation."

  "By whom, then, were we beaten?" asked Porthos.

  "By Mordaunt."

  "Yes, but we have drowned Monsieur Mordaunt."

  "That is true, and that will redeem us a little in the eyes ofposterity, if posterity ever looks at us. But listen, Porthos: thoughMonsieur Mordaunt was a man not to be despised, Mazarin is not lessstrong than he, and we shall not easily succeed in drowning him. Wemust, therefore, watch and play a close game; for," he added with asigh, "we two are equal, perhaps, to eight others; but we are not equalto the four that you know of."

  "That is true," said Porthos, echoing D'Artagnan's sigh.

  "Well, Porthos, follow my examples; walk back and forth till some newsof our friends reaches us or till we are visited by a good idea. Butdon't sleep as you do all the time; nothing dulls the intellect likesleep. As to what may lie before us, it is perhaps less serious than weat first thought. I don't believe that Monsieur de Mazarin thinks ofcutting off our heads, for heads are not taken off without previoustrial; a trial would make a noise, and a noise would get the attentionof our friends, who would check the operations of Monsieur de Mazarin."

  "How well you reason!" said Porthos, admiringly.

  "Well, yes, pretty well," replied D'Artagnan; "and besides, you see, ifthey put us on trial, if they cut off our heads, they must meanwhileeither keep us here or transfer us elsewhere."

  "Yes, that is inevitable," said Porthos.

  "Well, it is impossible but that Master Aramis, that keen-scentedbloodhound, and Athos, that wise and prudent nobleman, will discover ourretreat. Then, believe me, it will be time to act."

  "Yes, we will wait. We can wait the more contentedly, that it is notabsolutely bad here, but for one thing, at least."

  "What is that?"

  "Did you observe, D'Artagnan, that three days running they have broughtus braised mutton?"

  "No; but if it occurs a fourth time I shall complain of it, so nevermind."

  "And then I feel the loss of my house, 'tis a long time since I visitedmy castles."

  "Forget them for a time; we shall return to them, unless Mazarin razesthem to the ground."

  "Do you think that likely?"

  "No, the other cardinal would have done so, but this one is too mean afellow to risk it."

  "You reconcile me, D'Artagnan."

  "Well, then, assume a cheerful manner, as I do; we must joke with theguards, we must gain the good-will of the soldiers, since we can'tcorrupt them. Try, Porthos, to please them more than you are wont to dowhen they are under our windows. Thus far you have done nothing but showthem your fist; and the more respectable your fist is, Porthos, the lessattractive it is. Ah, I would give much to have five hundred louis,only."

  "So would I," said Porthos, unwilling to be behind D'Artagnan ingenerosity; "I would give as much as a hundred pistoles."

  The two prisoners were at this point of their conversation whenComminges entered, preceded by a sergeant and two men, who broughtsupper in a basket with two handles, filled with basins and plates.

  "What!" exclaimed Porthos, "mutton again?"

  "My dear Monsieur de Comminges," said D'Artagnan, "you will find that myfriend, Monsieur du Vallon, will go to the most fatal lengths ifCardinal Mazarin continues to provide us with this sort of meat; muttonevery day."

  "I declare," said Porthos, "I shall eat nothing if they do not take itaway."

  "Remove the mutton," cried Comminges; "I wish Monsieur du Vallon to supwell, more especially as I have news to give him that will improve hisappetite."

  "Is Mazarin dead?" asked Porthos.

  "No; I am sorry to tell you he is perfectly well."

  "So much the worse," said Porthos.

  "What is that news?" asked D'Artagnan. "News in prison is a fruit sorare that I trust, Monsieur de Comminges, you will excuse myimpatience--the more eager since you have given us to understand thatthe news is good."

  "Should you be glad to hear that the Comte de la Fere is well?" asked DeComminges.

  D'Artagnan's penetrating gray eyes were opened to the utmost.

  "Glad!" he cried; "I should be more than glad! Happy--beyond measure!"

  "Well, I am desired by him to give you his compliments and to say thathe is in good health."

  D'Artagnan almost leaped with joy. A quick glance conveyed his thoughtto Porthos: "If Athos knows where we are, if he opens communication w
ithus, before long Athos will act."

  Porthos was not very quick to understand the language of glances, butnow since the name of Athos had suggested to him the same idea, heunderstood.

  "Do you say," asked the Gascon, timidly, "that the Comte de la Fere hascommissioned you to give his compliments to Monsieur du Vallon andmyself?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then you have seen him?"

  "Certainly I have."

  "Where? if I may ask without indiscretion."

  "Near here," replied De Comminges, smiling; "so near that if the windowswhich look on the orangery were not stopped up you could see him fromwhere you are."

  "He is wandering about the environs of the castle," thought D'Artagnan.Then he said aloud:

  "You met him, I dare say, in the park--hunting, perhaps?"

  "No; nearer, nearer still. Look, behind this wall," said De Comminges,knocking against the wall.

  "Behind this wall? What is there, then, behind this wall? I was broughthere by night, so devil take me if I know where I am."

  "Well," said Comminges, "suppose one thing."

  "I will suppose anything you please."

  "Suppose there were a window in this wall."

  "Well?"

  "From that window you would see Monsieur de la Fere at his."

  "The count, then, is in the chateau?"

  "Yes."

  "For what reason?"

  "The same as yourself."

  "Athos--a prisoner?"

  "You know well," replied De Comminges, "that there are no prisoners atRueil, because there is no prison."

  "Don't let us play upon words, sir. Athos has been arrested."

  "Yesterday, at Saint Germain, as he came out from the presence of thequeen."

  The arms of D'Artagnan fell powerless by his side. One might havesupposed him thunderstruck; a paleness ran like a cloud over his darkskin, but disappeared immediately.

  "A prisoner?" he reiterated.

  "A prisoner," repeated Porthos, quite dejected.

  Suddenly D'Artagnan looked up and in his eyes there was a gleam whichscarcely even Porthos observed; but it died away and he appeared moresorrowful than before.

  "Come, come," said Comminges, who, since D'Artagnan, on the day ofBroussel's arrest, had saved him from the hands of the Parisians, hadentertained a real affection for him, "don't be unhappy; I never thoughtof bringing you bad news. Laugh at the chance which has brought yourfriend near to you and Monsieur du Vallon, instead of being in thedepths of despair about it."

  But D'Artagnan was still in a desponding mood.

  "And how did he look?" asked Porthos, who, perceiving that D'Artagnanhad allowed the conversation to drop, profited by it to put in a word ortwo.

  "Very well, indeed, sir," replied Comminges; "at first, like you, heseemed distressed; but when he heard that the cardinal was going to payhim a visit this very evening----"

  "Ah!" cried D'Artagnan, "the cardinal is about to visit the Comte de laFere?"

  "Yes; and the count desired me to tell you that he should take advantageof this visit to plead for you and for himself."

  "Ah! our dear count!" said D'Artagnan.

  "A fine thing, indeed!" grunted Porthos. "A great favor! Zounds!Monsieur the Comte de la Fere, whose family is allied to the Montmorencyand the Rohan, is easily the equal of Monsieur de Mazarin."

  "No matter," said D'Artagnan, in his most wheedling tone. "Onreflection, my dear Du Vallon, it is a great honor for the Comte de laFere, and gives good reason to hope. In fact, it seems to me so great anhonor for a prisoner that I think Monsieur de Comminges must bemistaken."

  "What? I am mistaken?"

  "Monsieur de Mazarin will not come to visit the Comte de la Fere, butthe Comte de la Fere will be sent for to visit him."

  "No, no, no," said Comminges, who made a point of having the factsappear exactly as they were, "I clearly understood what the cardinalsaid to me. He will come and visit the Comte de la Fere."

  D'Artagnan tried to gather from the expression of his eyes whetherPorthos understood the importance of that visit, but Porthos did noteven look toward him.

  "It is, then, the cardinal's custom to walk in his orangery?" askedD'Artagnan.

  "Every evening he shuts himself in there. That, it seems, is where hemeditates on state affairs."

  "In that case," said D'Artagnan, "I begin to believe that Monsieur de laFere will receive the visit of his eminence; he will, of course, have anescort."

  "Yes--two soldiers."

  "And will he talk thus of affairs in presence of two strangers?"

  "The soldiers are Swiss, who understand only German. Besides, accordingto all probability they will wait at the door."

  D'Artagnan made a violent effort over himself to keep his face frombeing too expressive.

  "Let the cardinal take care of going alone to visit the Comte de laFere," said D'Artagnan; "for the count must be furious."

  Comminges began to laugh. "Oh, oh! why, really, one would say that youfour were anthropaphagi! The count is an affable man; besides, he isunarmed; at the first word from his eminence the two soldiers about himwould run to his assistance."

  "Two soldiers," said D'Artagnan, seeming to remember something, "twosoldiers, yes; that, then, is why I hear two men called every eveningand see them walking sometimes for half an hour, under my window."

  "That is it; they are waiting for the cardinal, or rather for Bernouin,who comes to call them when the cardinal goes out."

  "Fine-looking men, upon my word!" said D'Artagnan.

  "They belong to the regiment that was at Lens, which the prince assignedto the cardinal."

  "Ah, monsieur," said D'Artagnan, as if to sum up in a word all thatconversation, "if only his eminence would relent and grant to Monsieurde la Fere our liberty."

  "I wish it with all my heart," said Comminges.

  "Then, if he should forget that visit, you would find no inconveniencein reminding him of it?"

  "Not at all."

  "Ah, that gives me more confidence."

  This skillful turn of the conversation would have seemed a sublimemanoeuvre to any one who could have read the Gascon's soul.

  "Now," said D'Artagnan, "I've one last favor to ask of you, Monsieur deComminges."

  "At your service, sir."

  "You will see the count again?"

  "To-morrow morning."

  "Will you remember us to him and ask him to solicit for me the samefavor that he will have obtained?"

  "You want the cardinal to come here?"

  "No; I know my place and am not so presumptuous. Let his eminence do methe honor to give me a hearing; that is all I want."

  "Oh!" muttered Porthos, shaking his head, "never should I have thoughtthis of him! How misfortune humbles a man!"

  "I promise you it shall be done," answered De Comminges.

  "Tell the count that I am well; that you found me sad, but resigned."

  "I am pleased, sir, to hear that."

  "And the same, also, for Monsieur du Vallon----"

  "Not for me," cried Porthos; "I am not by any means resigned."

  "But you will be resigned, my friend."

  "Never!"

  "He will become so, monsieur; I know him better than he knows himself.Be silent, dear Du Vallon, and resign yourself."

  "Adieu, gentlemen," said De Comminges; "sleep well!"

  "We will try."

  De Comminges went away, D'Artagnan remaining apparently in the sameattitude of humble resignation; but scarcely had he departed when heturned and clasped Porthos in his arms with an expression not to bedoubted.

  "Oh!" cried Porthos; "what's the matter now? Have you gone mad, my dearfriend?"

  "What is the matter?" returned D'Artagnan; "we are saved!"

  "I don't see that at all," answered Porthos. "I think we are all takenprisoners, except Aramis, and that our chances of getting out arelessened since one more of us is caught in Mazarin's mousetrap."

  "Which is far too strong for two
of us, but not strong enough for threeof us," returned D'Artagnan.

  "I don't understand," said Porthos.

  "Never mind; let's sit down to table and take something to strengthen usfor the night."

  "What are we to do, then, to-night?"

  "To travel--perhaps."

  "But----"

  "Sit down, dear friend, to table. When one is eating, ideas flow easily.After supper, when they are perfected, I will communicate my plans toyou."

  So Porthos sat down to table without another word and ate with anappetite that did honor to the confidence that was ever inspired in himby D'Artagnan's inventive imagination.