The Man in the Iron Mask

  Chapter XXXII. Captive and Jailers.

  When they had entered the fort, and whilst the governor was making somepreparations for the reception of his guests, "Come," said Athos, "letus have a word of explanation whilst we are alone."

  "It is simply this," replied the musketeer. "I have conducted hither aprisoner, who the king commands shall not be seen. You came here, hehas thrown something to you through the lattice of his window; I was atdinner with the governor, I saw the object thrown, and I saw Raoul pickit up. It does not take long to understand this. I understood it, and Ithought you in intelligence with my prisoner. And then--"

  "And then--you commanded us to be shot."

  "_Ma foi!_ I admit it; but, if I was the first to seize a musket,fortunately, I was the last to take aim at you."

  "If you had killed me, D'Artagnan, I should have had the good fortuneto die for the royal house of France, and it would be an honor to die byyour hand--you, its noblest and most loyal defender."

  "What the devil, Athos, do you mean by the royal house?" stammeredD'Artagnan. "You don't mean that you, a well-informed and sensible man,can place any faith in the nonsense written by an idiot?"

  "I do believe in it."

  "With so much the more reason, my dear chevalier, from your havingorders to kill all those who do believe in it," said Raoul.

  "That is because," replied the captain of the musketeers--"because everycalumny, however absurd it may be, has the almost certain chance ofbecoming popular."

  "No, D'Artagnan," replied Athos, promptly; "but because the king is notwilling that the secret of his family should transpire among the people,and cover with shame the executioners of the son of Louis XIII."

  "Do not talk in such a childish manner, Athos, or I shall begin to thinkyou have lost your senses. Besides, explain to me how it is possibleLouis XIII. should have a son in the Isle of Sainte-Marguerite."

  "A son whom you have brought hither masked, in a fishing-boat," saidAthos. "Why not?"

  D'Artagnan was brought to a pause.

  "Oh!" said he; "whence do you know that a fishing-boat--?"

  "Brought you to Sainte-Marguerite's with the carriage containingthe prisoner--with a prisoner whom you styled monseigneur. Oh! Iam acquainted with all that," resumed the comte. D'Artagnan bit hismustache.

  "If it were true," said he, "that I had brought hither in a boat andwith a carriage a masked prisoner, nothing proves that this prisonermust be a prince--a prince of the house of France."

  "Ask Aramis such riddles," replied Athos, coolly.

  "Aramis," cried the musketeer, quite at a stand. "Have you seen Aramis?"

  "After his discomfiture at Vaux, yes; I have seen Aramis, a fugitive,pursued, bewildered, ruined; and Aramis has told me enough to make mebelieve in the complaints this unfortunate young prince cut upon thebottom of the plate."

  D'Artagnan's head sunk on his breast in some confusion. "This is theway," said he, "in which God turns to nothing that which men callwisdom! A fine secret must that be of which twelve or fifteen personshold the tattered fragments! Athos, cursed be the chance which hasbrought you face to face with me in this affair! for now--"

  "Well," said Athos, with his customary mild severity, "is your secretlost because I know it? Consult your memory, my friend. Have I not bornesecrets heavier than this?"

  "You have never borne one so dangerous," replied D'Artagnan, in a toneof sadness. "I have something like a sinister idea that all who areconcerned with this secret will die, and die unhappily."

  "The will of God be done!" said Athos, "but here is your governor."

  D'Artagnan and his friends immediately resumed their parts. Thegovernor, suspicious and hard, behaved towards D'Artagnan with apoliteness almost amounting to obsequiousness. With respect to thetravelers, he contented himself with offering good cheer, and nevertaking his eye from them. Athos and Raoul observed that he often triedto embarrass them by sudden attacks, or to catch them off their guard;but neither the one nor the other gave him the least advantage. WhatD'Artagnan had said was probable, if the governor did not believe it tobe quite true. They rose from the table to repose awhile.

  "What is this man's name? I don't like the looks of him," said Athos toD'Artagnan in Spanish.

  "De Saint-Mars," replied the captain.

  "He is, then, I suppose, the prince's jailer?"

  "Eh! how can I tell? I may be kept at Sainte-Marguerite forever."

  "Oh! no, not you!"

  "My friend, I am in the situation of a man who finds a treasure in themidst of a desert. He would like to carry it away, but he cannot; hewould like to leave it, but he dares not. The king will not dare torecall me, for no one else would serve him as faithfully as I do; heregrets not having me near him, from being aware that no one would be ofso much service near his person as myself. But it will happen as it mayplease God."

  "But," observed Raoul, "your not being certain proves that yoursituation here is provisional, and you will return to Paris?"

  "Ask these gentlemen," interrupted the governor, "what was their purposein coming to Saint-Marguerite?"

  "They came from learning there was a convent of Benedictines atSainte-Honnorat which is considered curious; and from being told therewas excellent shooting in the island."

  "That is quite at their service, as well as yours," replied Saint-Mars.

  D'Artagnan politely thanked him.

  "When will they depart?" added the governor.

  "To-morrow," replied D'Artagnan.

  M. de Saint-Mars went to make his rounds, and left D'Artagnan alone withthe pretended Spaniards.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the musketeer, "here is a life and a society that suitsme very little. I command this man, and he bores me, _mordioux!_ Come,let us have a shot or two at the rabbits; the walk will be beautiful,and not fatiguing. The whole island is but a league and a half inlength, with the breadth of a league; a real park. Let us try to amuseourselves."

  "As you please, D'Artagnan; not for the sake of amusing ourselves, butto gain an opportunity for talking freely."

  D'Artagnan made a sign to a soldier, who brought the gentlemen someguns, and then returned to the fort.

  "And now," said the musketeer, "answer me the question put to you bythat black-looking Saint-Mars: what did you come to do at the LerinIsles?"

  "To bid you farewell."

  "Bid me farewell! What do you mean by that? Is Raoul going anywhere?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I will lay a wager it is with M. de Beaufort."

  "With M. de Beaufort it is, my dear friend. You always guess correctly."

  "From habit."

  Whilst the two friends were commencing their conversation, Raoul, withhis head hanging down and his heart oppressed, seated himself on amossy rock, his gun across his knees, looking at the sea--looking atthe heavens, and listening to the voice of his soul; he allowed thesportsmen to attain a considerable distance from him. D'Artagnanremarked his absence.

  "He has not recovered the blow?" said he to Athos.

  "He is struck to death."

  "Oh! your fears exaggerate, I hope. Raoul is of a tempered nature.Around all hearts as noble as his, there is a second envelope that formsa cuirass. The first bleeds, the second resists."

  "No," replied Athos, "Raoul will die of it."

  "_Mordioux!_" said D'Artagnan, in a melancholy tone. And he did not adda word to this exclamation. Then, a minute after, "Why do you let himgo?"

  "Because he insists on going."

  "And why do you not go with him?"

  "Because I could not bear to see him die."

  D'Artagnan looked his friend earnestly in the face. "You know onething," continued the comte, leaning upon the arm of the captain; "youknow that in the course of my life I have been afraid of but few things.Well! I have an incessant gnawing, insurmountable fear that an hour willcome in which I shall hold the dead body of that boy in my arms."

  "Oh!" murmured D'Artagnan; "oh!"

  "He will die, I know, I have
a perfect conviction of that; but I wouldnot see him die."

  "How is this, Athos? you come and place yourself in the presence of thebravest man, you say you have ever seen, of your own D'Artagnan, of thatman without an equal, as you formerly called him, and you come and tellhim, with your arms folded, that you are afraid of witnessing the deathof your son, you who have seen all that can be seen in this world! Whyhave you this fear, Athos? Man upon this earth must expect everything,and ought to face everything."

  "Listen to me, my friend. After having worn myself out upon this earthof which you speak, I have preserved but two religions: that of life,friendship, my duty as a father--that of eternity, love, and respect forGod. Now, I have within me the revelation that if God should decree thatmy friend or my son should render up his last sigh in my presence--oh!no, I cannot even tell you, D'Artagnan!"

  "Speak, speak, tell me!"

  "I am strong against everything, except against the death of those Ilove. For that only there is no remedy. He who dies, gains; he who seesothers die, loses. No, this is it--to know that I should no more meet onearth him whom I now behold with joy; to know that there would nowherebe a D'Artagnan any more, nowhere again be a Raoul, oh! I am old, lookyou, I have no longer courage; I pray God to spare me in my weakness;but if he struck me so plainly and in that fashion, I should curse him.A Christian gentleman ought not to curse his God, D'Artagnan; it isenough to once have cursed a king!"

  "Humph!" sighed D'Artagnan, a little confused by this violent tempest ofgrief.

  "Let me speak to him, Athos. Who knows?"

  "Try, if you please, but I am convinced you will not succeed."

  "I will not attempt to console him. I will serve him."

  "You will?"

  "Doubtless, I will. Do you think this would be the first time a womanhad repented of an infidelity? I will go to him, I tell you."

  Athos shook his head, and continued his walk alone, D'Artagnan, cuttingacross the brambles, rejoined Raoul and held out his hand to him. "Well,Raoul! You have something to say to me?"

  "I have a kindness to ask of you," replied Bragelonne.

  "Ask it, then."

  "You will some day return to France?"

  "I hope so."

  "Ought I to write to Mademoiselle de la Valliere?"

  "No, you must not."

  "But I have many things to say to her."

  "Go and say them to her, then."

  "Never!"

  "Pray, what virtue do you attribute to a letter, which your speech mightnot possess?"

  "Perhaps you are right."

  "She loves the king," said D'Artagnan, bluntly; "and she is an honestgirl." Raoul started. "And you, you whom she abandons, she, perhaps,loves better than she does the king, but after another fashion."

  "D'Artagnan, do you believe she loves the king?"

  "To idolatry. Her heart is inaccessible to any other feeling. You mightcontinue to live near her, and would be her best friend."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Raoul, with a passionate burst of repugnance at such ahideous hope.

  "Will you do so?"

  "It would be base."

  "That is a very absurd word, which would lead me to think slightly ofyour understanding. Please to understand, Raoul, that it is never baseto do that which is imposed upon us by a superior force. If your heartsays to you, 'Go there, or die,' why go, Raoul. Was she base or brave,she whom you loved, in preferring the king to you, the king whom herheart commanded her imperiously to prefer to you? No, she was thebravest of women. Do, then, as she has done. Oblige yourself. Do youknow one thing of which I am sure, Raoul?"

  "What is that?"

  "Why, that by seeing her closely with the eyes of a jealous man--"

  "Well?"

  "Well! you would cease to love her."

  "Then I am decided, my dear D'Artagnan."

  "To set off to see her again?"

  "No; to set off that I may _never_ see her again. I wish to love herforever."

  "Ha! I must confess," replied the musketeer, "that is a conclusion whichI was far from expecting."

  "This is what I wish, my friend. You will see her again, and you willgive her a letter which, if you think proper, will explain to her, as toyourself, what is passing in my heart. Read it; I drew it up last night.Something told me I should see you to-day." He held the letter out, andD'Artagnan read:

  "MADEMOISELLE,--You are not wrong in my eyes in not loving me. You haveonly been guilty of one fault towards me, that of having left me tobelieve you loved me. This error will cost me my life. I pardon you,but I cannot pardon myself. It is said that happy lovers are deaf to thesorrows of rejected lovers. It will not be so with you, who did not loveme, save with anxiety. I am sure that if I had persisted in endeavoringto change that friendship into love, you would have yielded out of afear of bringing about my death, or lessening the esteem I had for you.It is much more delightful to me to die, knowing that _you_ are freeand satisfied. How much, then, will you love me, when you will nolonger fear either my presence or reproaches? You will love me, because,however charming a new love may appear to you, God has not made me inanything inferior to him you have chosen, and because my devotedness,my sacrifice, and my painful end will assure me, in your eyes, a certainsuperiority over him. I have allowed to escape, in the candid credulityof my heart, the treasure I possessed. Many people tell me that youloved me enough to lead me to hope you would have loved me much. Thatidea takes from my mind all bitterness, and leads me only to blamemyself. You will accept this last farewell, and you will bless mefor having taken refuge in the inviolable asylum where hatred isextinguished, and where all love endures forever. Adieu, mademoiselle.If your happiness could be purchased by the last drop of my blood, Iwould shed that drop. I willingly make the sacrifice of it to my misery!

  "RAOUL, VICOTME DE BRAGELONNE."

  "The letter reads very well," said the captain. "I have only one faultto find with it."

  "Tell me what that is!" said Raoul.

  "Why, it is that it tells everything, except the thing which exhales,like a mortal poison from your eyes and from your heart; except thesenseless love which still consumes you." Raoul grew paler, but remainedsilent.

  "Why did you not write simply these words:

  "'MADEMOISELLE,--Instead of cursing you, I love you and I die.'"

  "That is true," exclaimed Raoul, with a sinister kind of joy.

  And tearing the letter he had just taken back, he wrote the followingwords upon a leaf of his tablets:

  "To procure the happiness of once more telling you I love you, I committhe baseness of writing to you; and to punish myself for that baseness,I die." And he signed it.

  "You will give her these tablets, captain, will you not?"

  "When?" asked the latter.

  "On the day," said Bragelonne, pointing to the last sentence, "on theday when you can place a date under these words." And he sprang awayquickly to join Athos, who was returning with slow steps.

  As they re-entered the fort, the sea rose with that rapid, gustyvehemence which characterizes the Mediterranean; the ill-humor ofthe element became a tempest. Something shapeless, and tossed aboutviolently by the waves, appeared just off the coast.

  "What is that?" said Athos,--"a wrecked boat?"

  "No, it is not a boat," said D'Artagnan.

  "Pardon me," said Raoul, "there is a bark gaining the port rapidly."

  "Yes, there is a bark in the creek, which is prudently seeking shelterhere; but that which Athos points to in the sand is not a boat atall--it has run aground."

  "Yes, yes, I see it."

  "It is the carriage, which I threw into the sea after landing theprisoner."

  "Well!" said Athos, "if you take my advice, D'Artagnan, you will burnthat carriage, in order that no vestige of it may remain, without whichthe fishermen of Antibes, who have believed they had to do with thedevil, will endeavor to prove that your prisoner was but a man."

  "Your advice is good, Athos, and I will this night have it car
ried out,or rather, I will carry it out myself; but let us go in, for the rainfalls heavily, and the lightning is terrific."

  As they were passing over the ramparts to a gallery of which D'Artagnanhad the key, they saw M. de Saint-Mars directing his steps towards thechamber inhabited by the prisoner. Upon a sign from D'Artagnan, theyconcealed themselves in an angle of the staircase.

  "What is it?" said Athos.

  "You will see. Look. The prisoner is returning from chapel."

  And they saw, by the red flashes of lightning against the violet fogwhich the wind stamped upon the bank-ward sky, they saw pass gravely,at six paces behind the governor, a man clothed in black and masked by avizor of polished steel, soldered to a helmet of the same nature, whichaltogether enveloped the whole of his head. The fire of the heavens castred reflections on the polished surface, and these reflections, flyingoff capriciously, seemed to be angry looks launched by the unfortunate,instead of imprecations. In the middle of the gallery, the prisonerstopped for a moment, to contemplate the infinite horizon, to respirethe sulphurous perfumes of the tempest, to drink in thirstily the hotrain, and to breathe a sigh resembling a smothered groan.

  "Come on, monsieur," said Saint-Mars, sharply, to the prisoner, forhe already became uneasy at seeing him look so long beyond the walls."Monsieur, come on!"

  "Say monseigneur!" cried Athos, from his corner, with a voice so solemnand terrible, that the governor trembled from head to foot. Athosinsisted upon respect being paid to fallen majesty. The prisoner turnedround.

  "Who spoke?" asked Saint-Mars.

  "It was I," replied D'Artagnan, showing himself promptly. "You know thatis the order."

  "Call me neither monsieur nor monseigneur," said the prisoner in histurn, in a voice that penetrated to the very soul of Raoul; "call meACCURSED!" He passed on, and the iron door croaked after him.

  "There goes a truly unfortunate man!" murmured the musketeer in a hollowwhisper, pointing out to Raoul the chamber inhabited by the prince.