Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas (desktop ebook reader txt) 📗

The night was dark, but still the town resounded with those noises that disclose a city in a state of siege. Athos and Aramis did not proceed a hundred steps without being stopped by sentinels placed before the barricades, who demanded the watchword; and on their saying that they were going to Monsieur de Bouillon on a mission of importance a guide was given them under pretext of conducting them, but in fact as a spy over their movements.

On arriving at the Hotel de Bouillon they came across a little troop of three cavaliers, who seemed to know every possible password; for they walked without either guide or escort, and on arriving at the barricades had nothing to do but to speak to those who guarded them, who instantly let them pass with evident deference, due probably to their high birth.

On seeing them Athos and Aramis stood still.

“Oh!” cried Aramis, “do you see, count?”

“Yes,” said Athos.

“Who do these three cavaliers appear to you to be?”

“What do you think, Aramis?”

“Why, they are our men.”

“You are not mistaken; I recognize Monsieur de Flamarens.”

“And I, Monsieur de Chatillon.”

“As to the cavalier in the brown cloak----”

“It is the cardinal.”

“In person.”

“How the devil do they venture so near the Hotel de Bouillon?”

Athos smiled, but did not reply. Five minutes afterward they knocked at the prince’s door.

This door was guarded by a sentinel and there was also a guard placed in the courtyard, ready to obey the orders of the Prince de Conti’s lieutenant.

Monsieur de Bouillon had the gout, but notwithstanding his illness, which had prevented his mounting on horseback for the last month---that is, since Paris had been besieged--he was ready to receive the Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d’Herblay.

He was in bed, but surrounded with all the paraphernalia of war. Everywhere were swords, pistols, cuirasses, and arquebuses, and it was plain that as soon as his gout was better Monsieur de Bouillon would give a pretty tangle to the enemies of the parliament to unravel. Meanwhile, to his great regret, as he said, he was obliged to keep his bed.

“Ah, gentlemen,” he cried, as the two friends entered, “you are very happy! you can ride, you can go and come and fight for the cause of the people. But I, as you see, am nailed to my bed--ah! this demon, gout--this demon, gout!”

“My lord,” said Athos, “we are just arrived from England and our first concern is to inquire after your health.”

“Thanks, gentlemen, thanks! As you see, my health is but indifferent. But you come from England. And King Charles is well, as I have just heard?”

“He is dead, my lord!” said Aramis.

“Pooh!” said the duke, too much astonished to believe it true.

“Dead on the scaffold; condemned by parliament.”

“Impossible!”

“And executed in our presence.”

“What, then, has Monsieur de Flamarens been telling me?”

“Monsieur de Flamarens?”

“Yes, he has just gone out.”

Athos smiled. “With two companions?” he said.

“With two companions, yes,” replied the duke. Then he added with a certain uneasiness, “Did you meet them?”

“Why, yes, I think so--in the street,” said Athos; and he looked smilingly at Aramis, who looked at him with an expression of surprise.

“The devil take this gout!” cried Monsieur de Bouillon, evidently ill at ease.

“My lord,” said Athos, “we admire your devotion to the cause you have espoused, in remaining at the head of the army whilst so ill, in so much pain.”

“One must,” replied Monsieur de Bouillon, “sacrifice one’s comfort to the public good; but I confess to you I am now almost exhausted. My spirit is willing, my head is clear, but this demon, the gout, o’ercrows me. I confess, if the court would do justice to my claims and give the head of my house the title of prince, and if my brother De Turenne were reinstated in his command I would return to my estates and leave the court and parliament to settle things between themselves as they might.”

“You are perfectly right, my lord.”

“You think so? At this very moment the court is making overtures to me; hitherto I have repulsed them; but since such men as you assure me that I am wrong in doing so, I’ve a good mind to follow your advice and to accept a proposition made to me by the Duc de Chatillon just now.”

“Accept it, my lord, accept it,” said Aramis.

“Faith! yes. I am even sorry that this evening I almost repulsed--but there will be a conference to-morrow and we shall see.”

The two friends saluted the duke.

“Go, gentlemen,” he said; “you must be much fatigued after your voyage. Poor King Charles! But, after all, he was somewhat to blame in all that business and we may console ourselves with the reflection that France has no cause of reproach in the matter and did all she could to serve him.”

“Oh! as to that,” said Aramis, “we are witnesses. Mazarin especially----”

“Yes, do you know, I am very glad to hear you give that testimony; the cardinal has some good in him, and if he were not a foreigner--well, he would be more justly estimated. Oh! the devil take this gout!”

Athos and Aramis took their leave, but even in the ante-chamber they could still hear the duke’s cries; he was evidently suffering the tortures of the damned.

When they reached the street, Aramis said:

“Well, Athos, what do you think?”

“Of whom?”

“Pardieu! of Monsieur de Bouillon.”

“My friend, I think that he is much troubled with gout.”

“You noticed that I didn’t breathe a word as to the purpose of our visit?”

“You did well; you would have caused him an access of his disease. Let us go to Monsieur de Beaufort.”

The two friends went to the Hotel de Vendome. It was ten o’clock when they arrived. The Hotel de Vendome was not less guarded than the Hotel de Bouillon, and presented as warlike an appearance. There were sentinels, a guard in the court, stacks of arms, and horses saddled. Two horsemen going out as Athos and Aramis entered were obliged to give place to them.

“Ah! ah! gentlemen,” said Aramis, “decidedly it is a night for meetings. We shall be very unfortunate if, after meeting so often this evening, we should not succeed in meeting to-morrow.”

“Oh, as to that, sir,” replied Chatillon (for it was he who, with Flamarens, was leaving the Duc de Beaufort), “you may be assured; for if we meet by night without seeking each other, much more shall we meet by day when wishing it.”

“I hope that is true,” said Aramis.

“As for me, I am sure of it,” said the duke.

De Flamarens and De Chatillon continued on their way and Athos and Aramis dismounted.

Hardly had they given the bridles of their horses to their lackeys and rid themselves of their cloaks when a man approached them, and after looking at them for an instant by the doubtful light of the lantern hung in the centre of the courtyard he uttered an exclamation of joy and ran to embrace them.

“Comte de la Fere!” the man cried out; “Chevalier d’Herblay! How does it happen that you are in Paris?”

“Rochefort!” cried the two friends.

“Yes! we arrived four or five days ago from the Vendomois, as you know, and we are going to give Mazarin something to do. You are still with us, I presume?”

“More than ever. And the duke?”

“Furious against the cardinal. You know his success--our dear duke? He is really king of Paris; he can’t go out without being mobbed by his admirers.”

“Ah! so much the better! Can we have the honor of seeing his highness?”

“I shall be proud to present you,” and Rochefort walked on. Every door was opened to him. Monsieur de Beaufort was at supper, but he rose quickly on hearing the two friends announced.

“Ah!” he cried, “by Jove! you’re welcome, sirs. You are coming to sup with me, are you not? Boisgoli, tell Noirmont that I have two guests. You know Noirmont, do you not? The successor of Father Marteau who makes the excellent pies you know of. Boisgoli, let him send one of his best, but not such a one as he made for La Ramee. Thank God! we don’t want either rope ladders or gag-pears now.”

“My lord,” said Athos, “do not let us disturb you. We came merely to inquire after your health and to take your orders.”

“As to my health, since it has stood five years of prison, with Monsieur de Chavigny to boot, ‘tis excellent! As to my orders, since every one gives his own commands in our party, I shall end, if this goes on, by giving none at all.”

“In short, my lord,” said Athos, glancing at Aramis, “your highness is discontented with your party?”

“Discontented, sir! say my highness is furious! To such a degree, I assure you, though I would not say so to others, that if the queen, acknowledging the injuries she has done me, would recall my mother and give me the reversion of the admiralty, which belonged to my father and was promised me at his death, well! it would not be long before I should be training dogs to say that there were greater traitors in France than the Cardinal Mazarin!”

At this Athos and Aramis could not help exchanging not only a look but a smile; and had they not known it for a fact, this would have told them that De Chatillon and De Flamarens had been there.

“My lord,” said Athos, “we are satisfied; we came here only to express our loyalty and to say that we are