In which D'Artagnan makes all Speed, Porthos snores, and Aramis counsels.
From thirty to thirty-five hours after the events we have just related, as M. Fouquet, according to his custom, having interdicted his door, was working in the cabinet of his house at Saint-Mande, with which we are already acquainted, a carriage, drawn by four horses steaming with sweat, entered the court at full gallop. This carriage was, probably, expected; for three or four lackeys hastened to the door, which they opened.
Whilst M. Fouquet rose from his bureau and ran to the window, a man got painfully out of the carriage, descending with difficulty the three steps of the door, leaning upon the shoulders of the lackeys. He had scarcely uttered his name, when the _valet_ upon whom he was not leaning, sprang up to the _perron_, and disappeared in the vestibule. This man went to inform his master; but he had no occasion to knock at the door: Fouquet was standing on the threshold.
"Monseigneur, the Bishop of Vannes," said he.
"Very well!" replied his master.
Then, leaning over the banister of the staircase, of which Aramis was beginning to ascend the first steps, -"Ah, dear friend!" said he, "you, so soon!"
"Yes; I, myself, monsieur! but bruised, battered, as you see."
"Oh! my poor friend," said Fouquet, presenting him his arm, on which Aramis leant, whilst the servants drew back respectfully.
"Bah!" replied Aramis, "it is nothing, since I am here; the principal thing was that I should _get_ here, and here I am."
"Speak quickly," said Fouquet, closing the door of the cabinet behind Aramis and himself.
"Are we alone?"
"Yes, perfectly."
"No one observes us? - no one can hear us?"
"Be satisfied; nobody."
"Is M. du Vallon arrived?"
"Yes."
"And you have received my letter?"
"Yes. The affair is serious, apparently, since it necessitates your attendance in Paris, at a moment when your presence was so urgent elsewhere."
"You are right, it could not be more serious."
"Thank you! thank you! What is it about? But, for God's sake! before anything else, take time to breathe, dear friend. You are so pale, you frighten me."
"I am really in great pain. But, for Heaven's sake, think nothing about me. Did M. du Vallon tell you nothing, when he delivered the letter to you?"
"No; I heard a great noise; I went to the window; I saw at the foot of the _perron_ a sort of horseman of marble; I went down, he held the letter out to me, and his horse fell down dead."
"But he?"
"He fell with the horse; he was lifted, and carried to an apartment.
Having read the letter, I went up to him, in hopes of obtaining more ample information; but he was asleep, and, after such a fashion, that it was impossible to wake him. I took pity on him; I gave orders that his boots should be cut from off his legs, and that he should be left quite undisturbed."
"So far well; now, this is the question in hand, monseigneur. You have seen M. d'Artagnan in Paris, have you not?"
"_Certes_, and think him a man of intelligence, and even a man of heart; although he did bring about the death of our dear friends, Lyodot and D'Eymeris."
"Alas! yes, I heard of that. At Tours I met the courier who was bringing the letter from Gourville, and the dispatches from Pellisson. Have you seriously reflected on that event, monsieur?"
"Yes."
"And in it you perceived a direct attack upon your sovereignty?"
"And do you believe it to be so?"
"Oh, yes, I think so."
"Well, I must confess, that sad idea occurred to me likewise."
"Do not blind yourself, monsieur, in the name of Heaven! Listen attentively to me, - I return to D'Artagnan."
"I am all attention."
"Under what circumstances did you see him?"
"He came here for money."
"With what kind of order?"
"With an order from the king."
"Direct?"
"Signed by his majesty."
"There, then! Well, D'Artagnan has been to Belle-Isle; he was disguised; he came in the character of some sort of an _intendant_, charged by his master to purchase salt-mines. Now, D'Artagnan has no other master but the king: he came, then, sent by the king. He saw Porthos."
"Who is Porthos?"
"I beg your pardon, I made a mistake. He saw M. du Vallon at Belle-Isle; and he knows, as well as you and I do, that Belle-Isle is fortified."
"And you think that the king sent him there?" said Fouquet, pensively.
"I certainly do."
"And D'Artagnan, in the hands of the king, is a dangerous instrument?"
"The most dangerous imaginable."
"Then I formed a correct opinion of him at the first glance."
"How so?"
"I wished to attach him to myself."
"If you judged him to be the bravest, the most acute, and the most adroit man in France, you judged correctly."
"He must be had then, at any price."
"D'Artagnan?"
"Is that not your opinion?"
"It may be my opinion, but you will never get him."
"Why?"
"Because we have allowed the time to go by. He was dissatisfied with the court, we should have profited by that; since that, he has passed into England; there he powerfully assisted in the restoration, there he gained a fortune, and, after all, he returned to the service of the king. Well, if he has returned to the service of the king, it is because he is well paid in that service."
"We will pay him even better, that is all."
"Oh! monsieur, excuse me; D'Artagnan has a high respect for his word, and where that is once engaged he keeps it."
"What do you conclude, then?" said Fouquet, with great inquietude.
"At present, the principal thing is to parry a dangerous blow."
"And how is it to be parried?"
"Listen."
"But D'Artagnan will come and render an account to the king of his mission."
"Oh, we have time enough to think about that."
"How so? You are much in advance of him, I presume?"
"Nearly ten hours."
"Well, in ten hours - "
Aramis shook his pale head. "Look at these clouds which flit across the heavens; at these swallows which cut the air. D'Artagnan moves more quickly than the clouds or the birds; D'Artagnan is the wind which carries them."
"A strange man!"
