He was confessing to himself that he belonged to the latter unhappy
class, when Planchet approached and said:
"I will lay a wager, your honor, that you and I are thinking of the same
thing."
"I doubt it, Planchet," replied D’Artagnan, "but what are you thinking
of?"
"I am thinking, sir, of those desperate looking men who were drinking in
the inn where we rested."
"Always cautious, Planchet."
"’Tis instinct, your honor."
"Well, what does your instinct tell you now?"
"Sir, my instinct told me that those people were assembled there for
some bad purpose; and I was reflecting on what my instinct had told me,
in the darkest corner of the stable, when a man wrapped in a cloak and
followed by two other men, came in."
"Ah ah!" said D’Artagnan, Planchet’s recital agreeing with his own
observations. "Well?"
"One of these two men said, ’He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming
there this evening, for I have seen his servant.’
"’Art thou sure?’ said the man in the cloak.
"’Yes, my prince.’"
"My prince!" interrupted D’Artagnan.
"Yes, ’my prince;’ but listen. ’If he is here’--this is what the other
man said--’let’s see decidedly what to do with him.’
"’What to do with him?’ answered the prince.
"’Yes, he’s not a man to allow himself to be taken anyhow; he’ll defend
himself.’
"’Well, we must try to take him alive. Have you cords to bind him with
and a gag to stop his mouth?’
"’We have.’
"’Remember that he will most likely be disguised as a horseman.’
"’Yes, yes, my lord; don’t be uneasy.’
"’Besides, I shall be there.’
"’You will assure us that justice----’
"’Yes, yes! I answer for all that,’ the prince said.
"’Well, then, we’ll do our best.’ Having said that, they went out of the
stable."
"Well, what matters all that to us?" said D’Artagnan. "This is one of
those attempts that happen every day."
"Are you sure that we are not its objects?"
"We? Why?"
"Just remember what they said. ’I have seen his servant,’ said one, and
that applies very well to me."
"Well?"
"’He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this evening,’ said
the other; and that applies very well to you."
"What else?"
"Then the prince said: ’Take notice that in all probability he will be
disguised as a cavalier;’ which seems to me to leave no room for doubt,
since you are dressed as a cavalier and not as an officer of musketeers.
Now then, what do you say to that?"
"Alas! my dear Planchet," said D’Artagnan, sighing, "we are
unfortunately no longer in those times in which princes would care to
assassinate me. Those were good old days; never fear--these people owe
us no grudge."
"Is your honor sure?"
"I can answer for it they do not."
"Well, we won’t speak of it any more, then;" and Planchet took his place
in D’Artagnan’s suite with that sublime confidence he had always had in
his master, which even fifteen years of separation had not destroyed.
They had traveled onward about half a mile when Planchet came close up
to D’Artagnan.
"Stop, sir, look yonder," he whispered; "don’t you see in the darkness
something pass by, like shadows? I fancy I hear horses’ feet."
"Impossible!" returned D’Artagnan. "The ground is soaking wet; yet I
fancy, as thou sayest, that I see something."
At this moment the neighing of a horse struck his ear, coming through
darkness and space.
"There are men somewhere about, but that’s of no consequence to us,"
said D’Artagnan; "let us ride onward."
At about half-past eight o’clock they reached the first houses in Noisy;
every one was in bed and not a light was to be seen in the village. The
obscurity was broken only now and then by the still darker lines of the
roofs of houses. Here and there a dog barked behind a door or an
affrighted cat fled precipitately from the midst of the pavement to take
refuge behind a pile of faggots, from which retreat her eyes would shine
like peridores. These were the only living creatures that seemed to
inhabit the village.
Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open space, rose
a dark mass, separated from the rest of the world by two lanes and
overshadowed in the front by enormous lime-trees. D’Artagnan looked
attentively at the building.
"This," he said to Planchet, "must be the archbishop’s chateau, the
abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but the convent, where is
that?"
"The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the village; I know it
well."
"Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my horse’s
girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light in any of the
Jesuits’ windows."
In about five minutes Planchet returned.
"Sir," he said, "there is one window of the convent lighted up."
"Hem! If I were a ’Frondeur,’" said D’Artagnan, "I should knock here and
should be sure of a good supper. If I were a monk I should knock yonder
and should have a good supper there, too; whereas, ’tis very possible
that between the castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds,
dying with hunger and thirst."
"Yes," added Planchet, "like the famous ass of Buridan. Shall I knock?"
"Hush!" replied D’Artagnan; "the light no longer burns in yonder
window."
"Do you hear nothing?" whispered Planchet.
"What is that noise?"
There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two troops of
horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth from each of the lanes
which encompassed the house and surrounded D’Artagnan and Planchet.
"Heyday!" cried D’Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking refuge behind
his horse; "are you not mistaken? is it really for us that you mean your
attack?"
"Here he is! we have him!" cried the horsemen, rushing on D’Artagnan
with naked swords.
"Don’t let him escape!" said a loud voice.
"No, my lord; be assured we shall not."
D’Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the conversation.
"Halloo, gentlemen!" he called out in his Gascon accent, "what do you
want? what do you demand?"
"That thou shalt soon know," shouted a chorus of horsemen.
"Stop, stop!" cried he whom they had addressed as "my lord;" "’tis not
his voice."
"Ah! just so, gentlemen! pray, do people get into a passion at random at
Noisy? Take care, for I warn you that the first man that comes within
the length of my sword--and my sword is long--I rip him up."
The chieftain of the party drew near.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a lofty tone, as that of one
accustomed to command.
"And you--what are you doing here?" replied D’Artagnan.
"Be civil, or I shall beat you; for although one may not choose to
proclaim oneself, one insists on respect suitable to one’s rank."
"You don’t choose to discover yourself, because you are the leader of an
ambuscade," returned D’Artagnan; "but with regard to myself, who am
traveling quietly with my own servant, I have not the same reasons as
you have to conceal my name."
"Enough! enough! what is your name?"
"I shall tell you my name in order that you may know where to find me,
my lord, or my prince, as it may suit you best to be called," said our
Gascon, who did not choose to seem to yield to a threat. "Do you know
Monsieur d’Artagnan?"
"Lieutenant in the king’s musketeers?" said the voice; "you are Monsieur
d’Artagnan?"
"I am."
"Then you came here to defend him?"
"Him? whom?"
"The man we are seeking."
"It seems," said D’Artagnan, "that whilst I thought I was coming to
Noisy I have entered, without suspecting it, into the kingdom of
mysteries."
"Come," replied the same lofty tone, "answer! Are you waiting for him
underneath these windows? Did you come to Noisy to defend him?"
"I am waiting for no one," replied D’Artagnan, who was beginning to be
angry. "I propose to defend no one but myself, and I shall defend myself
vigorously, I give you warning."
"Very well," said the voice; "go away from here and leave the place to
us."
"Go away from here!" said D’Artagnan, whose purposes were in conflict
with that order, "that is not so easy, since I am on the point of
falling, and my horse, too, through fatigue; unless, indeed, you are
disposed to offer me a supper and a bed in the neighborhood."
"Rascal!"
"Eh! monsieur!" said D’Artagnan, "I beg you will have a care what you
say; for if you utter another word like that, be you marquis, duke,
prince or king, I will thrust it down your throat! do you hear?"
"Well, well," rejoined the leader, "there’s no doubt ’tis a Gascon who
is speaking, and therefore not the man we are looking for. Our blow has
failed for to-night; let us withdraw. We shall meet again, Master
d’Artagnan," continued the leader, raising his voice.
"Yes, but never with the same advantages," said D’Artagnan, in a tone of
raillery; "for when you meet me again you will perhaps be alone and
there will be daylight."
"Very good, very good," said the voice. "En route, gentlemen."
And the troop, grumbling angrily, disappeared in the darkness and took
the road to Paris. D’Artagnan and Planchet remained for some moments
still on the defensive; then, as the noise of the horsemen became more
and more distant, they sheathed their swords.
"Thou seest, simpleton," said D’Artagnan to his servant, "that they
wished no harm to us."
"But to whom, then?"
"I’faith! I neither know nor care. What I do care for now, is to make my
way into the Jesuits’ convent; so to horse and let us knock at their
door. Happen what will, the devil take them, they can’t eat us."
And he mounted his horse. Planchet had just done the same when an
unexpected weight fell upon the back of the horse, which sank down.
"Hey! your honor!" cried Planchet, "I’ve a man behind me."
D’Artagnan turned around and plainly saw two human forms on Planchet’s
horse.
"’Tis then the devil that pursues!" he cried; drawing his sword and
preparing to attack the new foe.
"No, no, dear D’Artagnan," said the figure, "’tis not the devil, ’tis
Aramis; gallop fast, Planchet, and when you come to the end of the
village turn swiftly to the left."
And Planchet, with Aramis behind him, set off at full gallop, followed
by D’Artagnan, who began to think he was in the merry maze of some
fantastic dream.
9. The Abbe D’Herblay.
At the extremity of the village Planchet turned to the left in obedience
to the orders of Aramis, and stopped underneath the window which had
light in it. Aramis alighted and clapped his hands three times.
Immediately the window was opened and a ladder of rope was let down from
it.
"My friend," said Aramis, "if you like to ascend I shall be delighted to
receive you."
"Ah," said D’Artagnan, "is that the way you return to your apartment?"
"After nine at night, pardieu!" said Aramis, "the rule of the convent is
very severe."
"Pardon me, my dear friend," said D’Artagnan, "I think you said
’pardieu!’"
"Do you think so?" said Aramis, smiling; "it is possible. You have no
idea, my dear fellow, how one acquires bad habits in these cursed
convents, or what evil ways all these men of the church have, with whom
I am obliged to live. But will you not go up?"
"Pass on before me, I beg of you."
"As the late cardinal used to say to the late king, ’only to show you
the way, sire.’" And Aramis ascended the ladder quickly and reached the
window in an instant.
D’Artagnan followed, but less nimbly, showing plainly that this mode of
ascent was not one to which he was accustomed.
"I beg your pardon," said Aramis, noticing his awkwardness; "if I had
known that I was to have the honor of your visit I should have procured
the gardener’s ladder; but for me alone this is good enough."
"Sir," said Planchet when he saw D’Artagnan on the summit of the ladder,
"this way is easy for Monsieur Aramis and even for you; in case of
necessity I might also climb up, but my two horses cannot mount the
ladder."
"Take them to yonder shed, my friend," said Aramis, pointing to a low
building on the plain; "there you will find hay and straw for them; then
come back here and clap your hands three times, and we will give you
wine and food. Marry, forsooth, people don’t die of hunger here."
And Aramis, drawing in the ladder, closed the window. D’Artagnan then
looked around attentively.
Never was there an apartment at the same time more warlike and more
elegant. At each corner were arranged trophies, presenting to view
swords of all sorts, and on the walls hung four great pictures
representing in their ordinary military costume the Cardinal de
Lorraine, the Cardinal de Richelieu, the Cardinal de la Valette, and the
Archbishop of Bordeaux. Exteriorly, nothing in the room showed that it
was the habitation of an abbe. The hangings were of damask, the carpets
from Alencon, and the bed, especially, had more the look of a fine
lady’s couch, with its trimmings of fine lace and its embroidered
counterpane, than that of a man who had made a vow that he would
endeavor to gain Heaven by fasting and mortification.
"You are examining my den," said Aramis. "Ah, my dear fellow, excuse me;
I am lodged like a Chartreux. But what are you looking for?"
"I am looking for the person who let down the ladder. I see no one and
yet the ladder didn’t come down of itself."
"No, it is Bazin."
"Ah! ah!" said D’Artagnan.
"But," continued Aramis, "Bazin is a well trained servant, and seeing
that I was not alone he discreetly retired. Sit down, my dear friend,
and let us talk." And Aramis pushed forward a large easy-chair, in which
D’Artagnan stretched himself out.
"In the first place, you will sup with me, will you not?" asked Aramis.
"Yes, if you really wish it," said D’Artagnan, "and even with great
pleasure, I confess; the journey has given me a devil of an appetite."
"Ah, my poor friend!" said Aramis, "you will find meagre fare; you were
not expected."
"Am I then threatened with the omelet of Crevecoeur?"
"Oh, let us hope," said Aramis, "that with the help of God and of Bazin
we shall find something better than that in the larder of the worthy
Jesuit fathers. Bazin, my friend, come here."
The door opened and Bazin entered; on perceiving the musketeer he
uttered an exclamation that was almost a cry of despair.
"My dear Bazin," said D’Artagnan, "I am delighted to see with what
wonderful composure you can tell a lie even in church!"
"Sir," replied Bazin, "I have been taught by the good Jesuit fathers
that it is permitted to tell a falsehood when it is told in a good
cause."
"So far well," said Aramis; "we are dying of hunger. Serve us up the
best supper you can, and especially give us some good wine."
Bazin bowed low, sighed, and left the room.
"Now we are alone, dear Aramis," said D’Artagnan, "tell me how the devil
you managed to alight upon the back of Planchet’s horse."
"I’faith!" answered Aramis, "as you see, from Heaven."
"From Heaven," replied D’Artagnan, shaking his head; "you have no more
the appearance of coming from thence than you have of going there."
"My friend," said Aramis, with a look of imbecility on his face which
D’Artagnan had never observed whilst he was in the musketeers, "if I did
not come from Heaven, at least I was leaving Paradise, which is almost
the same."
"Here, then, is a puzzle for the learned," observed D’Artagnan, "until
now they have never been able to agree as to the situation of Paradise;
some place it on Mount Ararat, others between the rivers Tigris and
Euphrates; it seems that they have been looking very far away for it,
while it was actually very near. Paradise is at Noisy le Sec, upon the
site of the archbishop’s chateau. People do not go out from it by the
door, but by the window; one doesn’t descend here by the marble steps of
a peristyle, but by the branches of a lime-tree; and the angel with a
flaming sword who guards this elysium seems to have changed his
celestial name of Gabriel into that of the more terrestrial one of the
Prince de Marsillac."
Aramis burst into a fit of laughter.
"You were always a merry companion, my dear D’Artagnan," he said, "and
your witty Gascon fancy has not deserted you. Yes, there is something in
what you say; nevertheless, do not believe that it is Madame de
Longueville with whom I am in love."
"A plague on’t! I shall not do so. After having been so long in love
with Madame de Chevreuse, you would hardly lay your heart at the feet of
her mortal enemy!"
"Yes," replied Aramis, with an absent air; "yes, that poor duchess! I
once loved her much, and to do her justice, she was very useful to us.
Eventually she was obliged to leave France. He was a relentless enemy,
that damned cardinal," continued Aramis, glancing at the portrait of the
old minister. "He had even given orders to arrest her and would have cut
off her head had she not escaped with her waiting-maid--poor Kitty! I
have heard that she met with a strange adventure in I don’t know what
village, with I don’t know what cure, of whom she asked hospitality and
who, having but one chamber, and taking her for a cavalier, offered to
share it with her. For she had a wonderful way of dressing as a man,
that dear Marie; I know only one other woman who can do it as well. So
they made this song about her: ’Laboissiere, dis moi.’ You know it,
don’t you?"
"No, sing it, please."
Aramis immediately complied, and sang the song in a very lively manner.
"Bravo!" cried D’Artagnan, "you sing charmingly, dear Aramis. I do not
perceive that singing masses has spoiled your voice."
"My dear D’Artagnan," replied Aramis, "you understand, when I was a
musketeer I mounted guard as seldom as I could; now when I am an abbe I
say as few masses as I can. But to return to our duchess."
"Which--the Duchess de Chevreuse or the Duchess de Longueville?"
"Have I not already told you that there is nothing between me and the
Duchess de Longueville? Little flirtations, perhaps, and that’s all. No,
I spoke of the Duchess de Chevreuse; did you see her after her return
from Brussels, after the king’s death?"
"Yes, she is still beautiful."
"Yes," said Aramis, "I saw her also at that time. I gave her good
advice, by which she did not profit. I ventured to tell her that Mazarin
was the lover of Anne of Austria. She wouldn’t believe me, saying that
she knew Anne of Austria, who was too proud to love such a worthless
coxcomb. After that she plunged into the cabal headed by the Duke of
Beaufort; and the ’coxcomb’ arrested De Beaufort and banished Madame de
Chevreuse."
"You know," resumed D’Artagnan, "that she has had leave to return to
France?"
"Yes she is come back and is going to commit some fresh folly or
another."
"Oh, but this time perhaps she will follow your advice."
"Oh, this time," returned Aramis, "I haven’t seen her; she is much
changed."
"In that respect unlike you, my dear Aramis, for you are still the same;
you have still your beautiful dark hair, still your elegant figure,
still your feminine hands, which are admirably suited to a prelate."
"Yes," replied Aramis, "I am extremely careful of my appearance. Do you
know that I am growing old? I am nearly thirty-seven."
"Mind, Aramis"--D’Artagnan smiled as he spoke--"since we are together
again, let us agree on one point: what age shall we be in future?"
"How?"
"Formerly I was your junior by two or three years, and if I am not
mistaken I am turned forty years old."
"Indeed! Then ’tis I who am mistaken, for you have always been a good
chronologist. By your reckoning I must be forty-three at least. The
devil I am! Don’t let it out at the Hotel Rambouillet; it would ruin
me," replied the abbe.
"Don’t be afraid," said D’Artagnan. "I never go there."
"Why, what in the world," cried Aramis, "is that animal Bazin doing?
Bazin! Hurry up there, you rascal; we are mad with hunger and thirst!"
Bazin entered at that moment carrying a bottle in each hand.
"At last," said Aramis, "we are ready, are we?"
"Yes, monsieur, quite ready," said Bazin; "but it took me some time to
bring up all the----"
"Because you always think you have on your shoulders your beadle’s robe,
and spend all your time reading your breviary. But I give you warning
that if in polishing your chapel utensils you forget how to brighten up
my sword, I will make a great fire of your blessed images and will see
that you are roasted on it."
Bazin, scandalized, made a sign of the cross with the bottle in his
hand. D’Artagnan, more surprised than ever at the tone and manners of
the Abbe d’Herblay, which contrasted so strongly with those of the
Musketeer Aramis, remained staring with wide-open eyes at the face of
his friend.
Bazin quickly covered the table with a damask cloth and arranged upon it
so many things, gilded, perfumed, appetizing, that D’Artagnan was quite
overcome.
"But you expected some one then?" asked the officer.
"Oh," said Aramis, "I always try to be prepared; and then I knew you
were seeking me."
"From whom?"
"From Master Bazin, to be sure; he took you for the devil, my dear
fellow, and hastened to warn me of the danger that threatened my soul if
I should meet again a companion so wicked as an officer of musketeers."
"Oh, monsieur!" said Bazin, clasping his hands supplicatingly.
"Come, no hypocrisy! you know that I don’t like it. You will do much
better to open the window and let down some bread, a chicken and a
bottle of wine to your friend Planchet, who has been this last hour
killing himself clapping his hands."
Planchet, in fact, had bedded and fed his horses, and then coming back
under the window had repeated two or three times the signal agreed upon.
Bazin obeyed, fastened to the end of a cord the three articles
designated and let them down to Planchet, who then went satisfied to his
shed.
"Now to supper," said Aramis.
The two friends sat down and Aramis began to cut up fowls, partridges
and hams with admirable skill.
"The deuce!" cried D’Artagnan; "do you live in this way always?"
"Yes, pretty well. The coadjutor has given me dispensations from fasting
on the jours maigres, on account of my health; then I have engaged as my
cook the cook who lived with Lafollone--you know the man I mean?--the
friend of the cardinal, and the famous epicure whose grace after dinner
used to be, ’Good Lord, do me the favor to cause me to digest what I
have eaten.’"
"Nevertheless he died of indigestion, in spite of his grace," said
D’Artagnan.
"What can you expect?" replied Aramis, in a tone of resignation. "Every
man that’s born must fulfil his destiny."
"If it be not an indelicate question," resumed D’Artagnan, "have you
grown rich?"
"Oh, Heaven! no. I make about twelve thousand francs a year, without
counting a little benefice of a thousand crowns the prince gave me."
"And how do you make your twelve thousand francs? By your poems?"
"No, I have given up poetry, except now and then to write a drinking
song, some gay sonnet or some innocent epigram; I compose sermons, my
friend."
"What! sermons? Do you preach them?"
"No; I sell them to those of my cloth who wish to become great orators."
"Ah, indeed! and you have not been tempted by the hopes of reputation
yourself?"
"I should, my dear D’Artagnan, have been so, but nature said ’No.’ When
I am in the pulpit, if by chance a pretty woman looks at me, I look at
her again: if she smiles, I smile too. Then I speak at random; instead
of preaching about the torments of hell I talk of the joys of Paradise.
An event took place in the Church of St. Louis au Marais. A gentleman
laughed in my face. I stopped short to tell him that he was a fool; the
congregation went out to get stones to stone me with, but whilst they
were away I found means to conciliate the priests who were present, so
that my foe was pelted instead of me. ’Tis true that he came the next
morning to my house, thinking that he had to do with an abbe--like all
other abbes."
"And what was the end of the affair?"
"We met in the Place Royale--Egad! you know about it."
"Was I not your second?" cried D’Artagnan.
"You were; you know how I settled the matter."
"Did he die?"
"I don’t know. But, at all events, I gave him absolution in articulo
mortis. ’Tis enough to kill the body, without killing the soul."
Bazin made a despairing sign which meant that while perhaps he approved
the moral he altogether disapproved the tone in which it was uttered.
"Bazin, my friend," said Aramis, "you don’t seem to be aware that I can
see you in that mirror, and you forget that once for all I have
forbidden all signs of approbation or disapprobation. You will do me the
favor to bring us some Spanish wine and then to withdraw. Besides, my
friend D’Artagnan has something to say to me privately, have you not,
D’Artagnan?"
D’Artagnan nodded his head and Bazin retired, after placing on the table
the Spanish wine.
The two friends, left alone, remained silent, face to face. Aramis
seemed to await a comfortable digestion; D’Artagnan, to be preparing his
exordium. Each of them, when the other was not looking, hazarded a sly
glance. It was Aramis who broke the silence.
"What are you thinking of, D’Artagnan?" he began.
"I was thinking, my dear old friend, that when you were a musketeer you
turned your thoughts incessantly to the church, and now that you are an
abbe you are perpetually longing to be once more a musketeer."
"’Tis true; man, as you know," said Aramis, "is a strange animal, made
up of contradictions. Since I became an abbe I dream of nothing but
battles."
"That is apparent in your surroundings; you have rapiers here of every
form and to suit the most exacting taste. Do you still fence well?"
"I--I fence as well as you did in the old time--better still, perhaps; I
do nothing else all day."
"And with whom?"
"With an excellent master-at-arms that we have here."
"What! here?"
"Yes, here, in this convent, my dear fellow. There is everything in a
Jesuit convent."
"Then you would have killed Monsieur de Marsillac if he had come alone
to attack you, instead of at the head of twenty men?"
"Undoubtedly," said Aramis, "and even at the head of his twenty men, if
I could have drawn without being recognized."
"God pardon me!" said D’Artagnan to himself, "I believe he has become
more Gascon than I am!" Then aloud: "Well, my dear Aramis, do you ask me
why I came to seek you?"
"No, I have not asked you that," said Aramis, with his subtle manner;
"but I have expected you to tell me."
"Well, I sought you for the single purpose of offering you a chance to
kill Monsieur de Marsillac whenever you please, prince though he is."
"Hold on! wait!" said Aramis; "that is an idea!"
"Of which I invite you to take advantage, my friend. Let us see; with
your thousand crowns from the abbey and the twelve thousand francs you
make by selling sermons, are you rich? Answer frankly."
"I? I am as poor as Job, and were you to search my pockets and my boxes
I don’t believe you would find a hundred pistoles."
"Peste! a hundred pistoles!" said D’Artagnan to himself; "he calls that
being as poor as Job! If I had them I should think myself as rich as
Croesus." Then aloud: "Are you ambitious?"
"As Enceladus."
"Well, my friend, I bring you the means of becoming rich, powerful, and
free to do whatever you wish."
The shadow of a cloud passed over Aramis’s face as quickly as that which
in August passes over the field of grain; but quick as it was, it did
not escape D’Artagnan’s observation.
"Speak on," said Aramis.
"One question first. Do you take any interest in politics?"
A gleam of light shone in Aramis’s eyes, as brief as the shadow that had
passed over his face, but not so brief but that it was seen by
D’Artagnan.
"No," Aramis replied.
"Then proposals from any quarter will be agreeable to you, since for the
moment you have no master but God?"
"It is possible."
"Have you, my dear Aramis, thought sometimes of those happy, happy,
happy days of youth we passed laughing, drinking, and fighting each
other for play?"
"Certainly, and more than once regretted them; it was indeed a glorious
time."
"Well, those splendidly wild days may chance to come again; I am
commissioned to find out my companions and I began by you, who were the
very soul of our society."
Aramis bowed, rather with respect than pleasure at the compliment.
"To meddle in politics," he exclaimed, in a languid voice, leaning back
in his easy-chair. "Ah! dear D’Artagnan! see how regularly I live and
how easy I am here. We have experienced the ingratitude of ’the great,’
as you well know."
"’Tis true," replied D’Artagnan. "Yet the great sometimes repent of
their ingratitude."
"In that case it would be quite another thing. Come! let’s be merciful
to every sinner! Besides, you are right in another respect, which is in
thinking that if we were to meddle in politics there could not be a
better time than the present."
"How can you know that? You who never interest yourself in politics?"
"Ah! without caring about them myself, I live among those who are much
occupied in them. Poet as I am, I am intimate with Sarazin, who is
devoted to the Prince de Conti, and with Monsieur de Bois-Robert, who,
since the death of Cardinal Richelieu, is of all parties or any party;
so that political discussions have not altogether been uninteresting to
me."
"I have no doubt of it," said D’Artagnan.
"Now, my dear friend, look upon all I tell you as merely the statement
of a monk--of a man who resembles an echo--repeating simply what he
hears. I understand that Mazarin is at this very moment extremely uneasy
as to the state of affairs; that his orders are not respected like those
of our former bugbear, the deceased cardinal, whose portrait as you see
hangs yonder--for whatever may be thought of him, it must be allowed
that Richelieu was great."
"I will not contradict you there," said D’Artagnan.
"My first impressions were favorable to the minister; I said to myself
that a minister is never loved, but that with the genius this one was
said to have he would eventually triumph over his enemies and would make
himself feared, which in my opinion is much more to be desired than to
be loved----"
D’Artagnan made a sign with his head which indicated that he entirely
approved that doubtful maxim.
"This, then," continued Aramis, "was my first opinion; but as I am very
ignorant in matters of this kind and as the humility which I profess
obliges me not to rest on my own judgment, but to ask the opinion of
others, I have inquired--Eh!--my friend----"
Aramis paused.
"Well? what?" asked his friend.
"Well, I must mortify myself. I must confess that I was mistaken.
Monsieur de Mazarin is not a man of genius, as I thought, he is a man of
no origin--once a servant of Cardinal Bentivoglio, and he got on by
intrigue. He is an upstart, a man of no name, who will only be the tool
of a party in France. He will amass wealth, he will injure the king’s
revenue and pay to himself the pensions which Richelieu paid to others.
He is neither a gentleman in manner nor in feeling, but a sort of
buffoon, a punchinello, a pantaloon. Do you know him? I do not."
"Hem!" said D’Artagnan, "there is some truth in what you say."
"Ah! it fills me with pride to find that, thanks to a common sort of
penetration with which I am endowed, I am approved by a man like you, fresh from the court." |
|
댓글 없음:
댓글 쓰기