for a thief."
"True," said D'Artagnan. "Let's see. Canst thou speak any
patois?"
"I can do something better than that, sir, I can speak
Flemish."
"Where the devil didst thou learn it?"
"In Artois, where I fought for years. Listen, sir. Goeden
morgen, mynheer, eth teen begeeray le weeten the ge sond
heets omstand."
"Which means?"
"Good-day, sir! I am anxious to know the state of your
health."
"He calls that a language! But never mind, that will do
capitally."
D'Artagnan opened the door and called out to a waiter to
desire Madeleine to come upstairs.
When the landlady made her appearance she expressed much
astonishment at seeing Planchet.
"My dear landlady," said D'Artagnan, "I beg to introduce to
you your brother, who is arrived from Flanders and whom I am
going to take into my service."
"My brother?"
"Wish your sister good-morning, Master Peter."
"Wilkom, suster," said Planchet.
"Goeden day, broder," replied the astonished landlady.
"This is the case," said D'Artagnan; "this is your brother,
Madeleine; you don't know him perhaps, but I know him; he
has arrived from Amsterdam. You must dress him up during my
absence. When I return, which will be in about an hour, you
must offer him to me as a servant, and upon your
recommendation, though he doesn't speak a word of French, I
take him into my service. You understand?"
"That is to say, I guess your wishes, and that is all that's
necessary," said Madeleine.
"You are a precious creature, my pretty hostess, and I am
much obliged to you."
The next moment D'Artagnan was on his way to Notre Dame.
7
Touches upon the Strange Effects a Half-pistole may have
upon a Beadle and a Chorister.
D'Artagnan, as he crossed the Pont Neuf, congratulated
himself on having found Planchet again, for at that time an
intelligent servant was essential to him; nor was he sorry
that through Planchet and the situation which he held in Rue
des Lombards, a connection with the bourgeoisie might be
commenced, at that critical period when that class were
preparing to make war with the court party. It was like
having a spy in the enemy's camp. In this frame of mind,
grateful for the accidental meeting with Planchet, pleased
with himself, D'Artagnan reached Notre Dame. He ran up the
steps, entered the church, and addressing a verger who was
sweeping the chapel, asked him if he knew Monsieur Bazin.
"Monsieur Bazin, the beadle?" said the verger. "Yes. There
he is, attending mass, in the chapel of the Virgin."
D'Artagnan nearly jumped for joy; he had despaired of
finding Bazin, but now, he thought, since he held one end of
the thread he would be pretty sure to reach the other end.
He knelt down just opposite the chapel in order not to lose
sight of his man; and as he had almost forgotten his prayers
and had omitted to take a book with him, he made use of his
time in gazing at Bazin.
Bazin wore his dress, it may be observed, with equal dignity
and saintly propriety. It was not difficult to understand
that he had gained the crown of his ambition and that the
silver-mounted wand he brandished was in his eyes as
honorable a distinction as the marshal's baton which Conde
threw, or did not throw, into the enemy's line of battle at
Fribourg. His person had undergone a change, analogous to
the change in his dress; his figure had grown rotund and, as
it were, canonical. The striking points of his face were
effaced; he had still a nose, but his cheeks, fattened out,
each took a portion of it unto themselves; his chin had
joined his throat; his eyes were swelled up with the
puffiness of his cheeks; his hair, cut straight in holy
guise, covered his forehead as far as his eyebrows.
The officiating priest was just finishing mass whilst
D'Artagnan was looking at Bazin; he pronounced the words of
the holy Sacrament and retired, giving the benediction,
which was received by the kneeling communicants, to the
astonishment of D'Artagnan, who recognized in the priest the
coadjutor* himself, the famous Jean Francois Gondy, who at
that time, having a presentiment of the part he was to play,
was beginning to court popularity by almsgiving. It was to
this end that he performed from time to time some of those
early masses which the common people, generally, alone
attended.
*A sacerdotal officer.
D'Artagnan knelt as well as the rest, received his share of
the benediction and made the sign of the cross; but when
Bazin passed in his turn, with his eyes raised to Heaven and
walking, in all humility, the very last, D'Artagnan pulled
him by the hem of his robe.
Bazin looked down and started, as if he had seen a serpent.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan!" he cried; "Vade retro Satanas!"
"So, my dear Bazin!" said the officer, laughing, "this is
the way you receive an old friend."
"Sir," replied Bazin, "the true friends of a Christian are
those who aid him in working out his salvation, not those
who hinder him in doing so."
"I don't understand you, Bazin; nor can I see how I can be a
stumbling-block in the way of your salvation," said
D'Artagnan.
"You forget, sir, that you very nearly ruined forever that
of my master; and that it was owing to you that he was very
nearly being damned eternally for remaining a musketeer,
whilst all the time his true vocation was the church."
"My dear Bazin, you ought to perceive," said D'Artagnan,
"from the place in which you find me, that I am greatly
changed in everything. Age produces good sense, and, as I
doubt not but that your master is on the road to salvation,
I want you to tell me where he is, that he may help me to
mine."
"Rather say, to take him back with you into the world.
Fortunately, I don't know where he is."
"How!" cried D'Artagnan; "you don't know where Aramis is?"
"Formerly," replied Bazin, "Aramis was his name of
perdition. By Aramis is meant Simara, which is the name of a
demon. Happily for him he has ceased to bear that name."
"And therefore," said D'Artagnan, resolved to be patient to
the end, "it is not Aramis I seek, but the Abbe d'Herblay.
Come, my dear Bazin, tell me where he is."
"Didn't you hear me tell you, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that I
don't know where he is?"
"Yes, certainly; but to that I answer that it is
impossible."
"It is, nevertheless, the truth, monsieur -- the pure truth,
the truth of the good God."
D'Artagnan saw clearly that he would get nothing out of this
man, who was evidently telling a falsehood in his pretended
ignorance of the abode of Aramis, but whose lies were bold
and decided.
"Well, Bazin," said D'Artagnan, "since you do not know where
your master lives, let us speak of it no more; let us part
good friends. Accept this half-pistole to drink to my
health."
"I do not drink" -- Bazin pushed away with dignity the
officer's hand -- "'tis good only for the laity."
"Incorruptible!" murmured D'Artagnan; "I am unlucky;" and
whilst he was lost in thought Bazin retreated toward the
sacristy, and even there he could not think himself safe
until he had shut and locked the door behind him.
D'Artagnan was still in deep thought when some one touched
him on the shoulder. He turned and was about to utter an
exclamation of surprise when the other made to him a sign of
silence.
"You here, Rochefort?" he said, in a low voice.
"Hush!" returned Rochefort. "Did you know that I am at
liberty?"
"I knew it from the fountain-head -- from Planchet. And what
brought you here?"
"I came to thank God for my happy deliverance," said
Rochefort.
"And nothing more? I suppose that is not all."
"To take my orders from the coadjutor and to see if we
cannot wake up Mazarin a little."
"A bad plan; you'll be shut up again in the Bastile."
"Oh, as to that, I shall take care, I assure you. The air,
the fresh, free air is so good; besides," and Rochefort drew
a deep breath as he spoke, "I am going into the country to
make a tour."
"Stop," cried D'Artagnan; "I, too, am going."
"And if I may without impertinence ask -- where are you
going?"
"To seek my friends."
"What friends?"
"Those that you asked about yesterday."
"Athos. Porthos and Aramis -- you are looking for them?"
"Yes."
"On honor?"
"What, then, is there surprising in that?"
"Nothing. Queer, though. And in whose behalf are you looking
for them?"
"You are in no doubt on that score."
"That is true."
"Unfortunately, I have no idea where they are."
"And you have no way to get news of them? Wait a week and I
myself will give you some."
"A week is too long. I must find them within three days."
"Three days are a short time and France is large."
"No matter; you know the word must; with that word great
things are done."
"And when do you set out?"
"I am now on my road."
"Good luck to you."
"And to you -- a good journey."
"Perhaps we shall meet on our road."
"That is not probable."
"Who knows? Chance is so capricious. Adieu, till we meet
again! Apropos, should Mazarin speak to you about me, tell
him that I should have requested you to acquaint him that in
a short time he will see whether I am, as he says, too old
for action."
And Rochefort went away with one of those diabolical smiles
which used formerly to make D'Artagnan shudder, but
D'Artagnan could now see it without alarm, and smiling in
his turn, with an expression of melancholy which the
recollections called up by that smile could, perhaps, alone
give to his countenance, he said:
"Go, demon, do what thou wilt! It matters little now to me.
There's no second Constance in the world."
On his return to the cathedral, D'Artagnan saw Bazin, who
was conversing with the sacristan. Bazin was making, with
his spare little short arms, ridiculous gestures. D'Artagnan
perceived that he was enforcing prudence with respect to
himself.
D'Artagnan slipped out of the cathedral and placed himself
in ambuscade at the corner of the Rue des Canettes; it was
impossible that Bazin should go out of the cathedral without
his seeing him.
In five minutes Bazin made his appearance, looking in every
direction to see if he were observed, but he saw no one.
Calmed by appearances he ventured to walk on through the Rue
Notre Dame. Then D'Artagnan rushed out of his hiding place
and arrived in time to see Bazin turn down the Rue de la
Juiverie and enter, in the Rue de la Calandre, a respectable
looking house; and this D'Artagnan felt no doubt was the
habitation of the worthy beadle. Afraid of making any
inquiries at this house, D'Artagnan entered a small tavern
at the corner of the street and asked for a cup of hypocras.
This beverage required a good half-hour to prepare. And
D'Artagnan had time, therefore, to watch Bazin unsuspected.
He perceived in the tavern a pert boy between twelve and
fifteen years of age whom he fancied he had seen not twenty
minutes before under the guise of a chorister. He questioned
him, and as the boy had no interest in deceiving, D'Artagnan
learned that he exercised, from six o'clock in the morning
until nine, the office of chorister, and from nine o'clock
till midnight that of a waiter in the tavern.
Whilst he was talking to this lad a horse was brought to the
door of Bazin's house. It was saddled and bridled. Almost
immediately Bazin came downstairs.
"Look!" said the boy, "there's our beadle, who is going a
journey."
"And where is he going?" asked D'Artagnan.
"Forsooth, I don't know."
"Half a pistole if you can find out," said D'Artagnan.
"For me?" cried the boy, his eyes sparkling with joy, "if I
can find out where Bazin is going? That is not difficult.
You are not joking, are you?"
"No, on the honor of an officer; there is the half-pistole;"
and he showed him the seductive coin, but did not give it
him.
"I shall ask him."
"Just the very way not to know. Wait till he is set out and
then, marry, come up, ask, and find out. The half-pistole is
ready," and he put it back again into his pocket.
"I understand," said the child, with that jeering smile
which marks especially the "gamin de Paris." "Well, we must
wait."
They had not long to wait. Five minutes afterward Bazin set
off on a full trot, urging on his horse by the blows of a
parapluie, which he was in the habit of using instead of a
riding whip.
Scarcely had he turned the corner of the Rue de la Juiverie
when the boy rushed after him like a bloodhound on full
scent.
Before ten minutes had elapsed the child returned.
"Well!" said D'Artagnan.
"Well!" answered the boy, "the thing is done."
"Where is he gone?"
"The half-pistole is for me?"
"Doubtless, answer me."
"I want to see it. Give it me, that I may see it is not
false.
"There it is."
The child put the piece of money into his pocket.
