60 IN FRANCE
The first fear of the King of England, Charles I, on learning of thedeath of the duke, was that such terrible news might discourage theRochellais; he tried, says Richelieu in his Memoirs, to conceal it fromthem as long as possible, closing all the ports of his kingdom, andcarefully keeping watch that no vessel should sail until the army whichBuckingham was getting together had gone, taking upon himself, indefault of Buckingham, to superintend the departure.
He carried the strictness of this order so far as to detain in Englandthe ambassadors of Denmark, who had taken their leave, and the regularambassador of Holland, who was to take back to the port of Flushing theIndian merchantmen of which Charles I had made restitution to the UnitedProvinces.
But as he did not think of giving this order till five hours after theevent--that is to say, till two o'clock in the afternoon--two vesselshad already left the port, the one bearing, as we know, Milady, who,already anticipating the event, was further confirmed in that belief byseeing the black flag flying at the masthead of the admiral's ship.
As to the second vessel, we will tell hereafter whom it carried, and howit set sail.
During this time nothing new occurred in the camp at La Rochelle; onlythe king, who was bored, as always, but perhaps a little more so in campthan elsewhere, resolved to go incognito and spend the festival of St.Louis at St. Germain, and asked the cardinal to order him an escort ofonly twenty Musketeers. The cardinal, who sometimes became weary of theking, granted this leave of absence with great pleasure to his royallieutenant, who promised to return about the fifteenth of September.
M de Treville, being informed of this by his Eminence, packed hisportmanteau; and as without knowing the cause he knew the great desireand even imperative need which his friends had of returning to Paris, itgoes without saying that he fixed upon them to form part of the escort.
The four young men heard the news a quarter of an hour after M. deTreville, for they were the first to whom he communicated it. It wasthen that d'Artagnan appreciated the favor the cardinal had conferredupon him in making him at last enter the Musketeers--for without thatcircumstance he would have been forced to remain in the camp while hiscompanions left it.
It goes without saying that this impatience to return toward Paris hadfor a cause the danger which Mme. Bonacieux would run of meeting at theconvent of Bethune with Milady, her mortal enemy. Aramis therefore hadwritten immediately to Marie Michon, the seamstress at Tours who hadsuch fine acquaintances, to obtain from the queen authority for Mme.Bonacieux to leave the convent, and to retire either into Lorraine orBelgium. They had not long to wait for an answer. Eight or ten daysafterward Aramis received the following letter:
"My Dear Cousin,
"Here is the authorization from my sister to withdraw our little servantfrom the convent of Bethune, the air of which you think is bad for her.My sister sends you this authorization with great pleasure, for she isvery partial to the little girl, to whom she intends to be moreserviceable hereafter.
"I salute you,
"MARIE MICHON"
To this letter was added an order, conceived in these terms:
"At the Louvre, August 10, 1628
"The superior of the convent of Bethune will place in the hands of theperson who shall present this note to her the novice who entered theconvent upon my recommendation and under my patronage.
"ANNE"
It may be easily imagined how the relationship between Aramis and aseamstress who called the queen her sister amused the young men; butAramis, after having blushed two or three times up to the whites of hiseyes at the gross pleasantry of Porthos, begged his friends not torevert to the subject again, declaring that if a single word more wassaid to him about it, he would never again implore his cousins tointerfere in such affairs.
There was no further question, therefore, about Marie Michon among thefour Musketeers, who besides had what they wanted: that was, the orderto withdraw Mme. Bonacieux from the convent of the Carmelites ofBethune. It was true that this order would not be of great use to themwhile they were in camp at La Rochelle; that is to say, at the other endof France. Therefore d'Artagnan was going to ask leave of absence of M.de Treville, confiding to him candidly the importance of his departure,when the news was transmitted to him as well as to his three friendsthat the king was about to set out for Paris with an escort of twentyMusketeers, and that they formed part of the escort.
Their joy was great. The lackeys were sent on before with the baggage,and they set out on the morning of the sixteenth.
The cardinal accompanied his Majesty from Surgeres to Mauzes; and therethe king and his minister took leave of each other with greatdemonstrations of friendship.
The king, however, who sought distraction, while traveling as fast aspossible--for he was anxious to be in Paris by the twenty-third--stoppedfrom time to time to fly the magpie, a pastime for which the taste hadbeen formerly inspired in him by de Luynes, and for which he had alwayspreserved a great predilection. Out of the twenty Musketeers sixteen,when this took place, rejoiced greatly at this relaxation; but the otherfour cursed it heartily. D'Artagnan, in particular, had a perpetualbuzzing in his ears, which Porthos explained thus: "A very great ladyhas told me that this means that somebody is talking of you somewhere."
At length the escort passed through Paris on the twenty-third, in thenight. The king thanked M. de Treville, and permitted him to distributefurloughs for four days, on condition that the favored parties shouldnot appear in any public place, under penalty of the Bastille.
The first four furloughs granted, as may be imagined, were to our fourfriends. Still further, Athos obtained of M. de Treville six daysinstead of four, and introduced into these six days two more nights--forthey set out on the twenty-fourth at five o'clock in the evening, and asa further kindness M. de Treville post-dated the leave to the morning ofthe twenty-fifth.
"Good Lord!" said d'Artagnan, who, as we have often said, never stumbledat anything. "It appears to me that we are making a great trouble of avery simple thing. In two days, and by using up two or three horses(that's nothing; I have plenty of money), I am at Bethune. I present myletter from the queen to the superior, and I bring back the deartreasure I go to seek--not into Lorraine, not into Belgium, but toParis, where she will be much better concealed, particularly while thecardinal is at La Rochelle. Well, once returned from the country, halfby the protection of her cousin, half through what we have personallydone for her, we shall obtain from the queen what we desire. Remain,then, where you are, and do not exhaust yourselves with useless fatigue.Myself and Planchet are all that such a simple expedition requires."
To this Athos replied quietly: "We also have money left--for I have notyet drunk all my share of the diamond, and Porthos and Aramis have noteaten all theirs. We can therefore use up four horses as well as one.But consider, d'Artagnan," added he, in a tone so solemn that it madethe young man shudder, "consider that Bethune is a city where thecardinal has given rendezvous to a woman who, wherever she goes, bringsmisery with her. If you had only to deal with four men, d'Artagnan, Iwould allow you to go alone. You have to do with that woman! We fourwill go; and I hope to God that with our four lackeys we may be insufficient number."
"You terrify me, Athos!" cried d'Artagnan. "My God! what do you fear?"
"Everything!" replied Athos.
D'Artagnan examined the countenances of his companions, which, like thatof Athos, wore an impression of deep anxiety; and they continued theirroute as fast as their horses could carry them, but without addinganother word.
On the evening of the twenty-fifth, as they were entering Arras, and asd'Artagnan was dismounting at the inn of the Golden Harrow to drink aglass of wine, a horseman came out of the post yard, where he had justhad a relay, started off at a gallop, and with a fresh horse took theroad to Paris. At the moment he passed through the gateway into thestreet, the wind blew open the cloak in which he was wrapped, althoughit was in the month of August, and lifted his hat, which th
e travelerseized with his hand the moment it had left his head, pulling it eagerlyover his eyes.
D'Artagnan, who had his eyes fixed upon this man, became very pale, andlet his glass fall.
"What is the matter, monsieur?" said Planchet. "Oh, come, gentlemen, mymaster is ill!"
The three friends hastened toward d'Artagnan, who, instead of being ill,ran toward his horse. They stopped him at the door.
"Well, where the devil are you going now?" cried Athos.
"It is he!" cried d'Artagnan, pale with anger, and with the sweat on hisbrow, "it is he! let me overtake him!"
"He? What he?" asked Athos.
"He, that man!"
"What man?"
"That cursed man, my evil genius, whom I have always met with whenthreatened by some misfortune, he who accompanied that horrible womanwhen I met her for the first time, he whom I was seeking when I offendedour Athos, he whom I saw on the very morning Madame Bonacieux wasabducted. I have seen him; that is he! I recognized him when the windblew upon his cloak."
"The devil!" said Athos, musingly.
"To saddle, gentlemen! to saddle! Let us pursue him, and we shallovertake him!"
"My dear friend," said Aramis, "remember that he goes in an oppositedirection from that in which we are going, that he has a fresh horse,and ours are fatigued, so that we shall disable our own horses withouteven a chance of overtaking him. Let the man go, d'Artagnan; let us savethe woman."
"Monsieur, monsieur!" cried a hostler, running out and looking after thestranger, "monsieur, here is a paper which dropped out of your hat! Eh,monsieur, eh!"
"Friend," said d'Artagnan, "a half-pistole for that paper!"
"My faith, monsieur, with great pleasure! Here it is!"
The hostler, enchanted with the good day's work he had done, returned tothe yard. D'Artagnan unfolded the paper.
"Well?" eagerly demanded all his three friends.
"Nothing but one word!" said d'Artagnan.
"Yes," said Aramis, "but that one word is the name of some town orvillage."
"Armentieres," read Porthos; "Armentieres? I don't know such a place."
"And that name of a town or village is written in her hand!" criedAthos.
"Come on, come on!" said d'Artagnan; "let us keep that paper carefully,perhaps I have not thrown away my half-pistole. To horse, my friends, tohorse!"
And the four friends flew at a gallop along the road to Bethune.