enjoyment; but when at last the regiment separated,
penetrated the heart of the city and placed itself at the
extremity of the Rue Saint Christophe, near the Rue
Cocatrix, in which Broussel lived, then Friquet remembered
that he had not had breakfast; and after thinking in which
direction he had better turn his steps in order to
accomplish this important act of the day, he reflected
deeply and decided that Councillor Broussel should bear the
cost of this repast.
In consequence he took to his heels, arrived breathlessly at
the councillor's door, and knocked violently.
His mother, the councillor's old servant, opened it.
"What doest thou here, good-for-nothing?" she said, "and why
art thou not at Notre Dame?"
"I have been there, mother," said Friquet, "but I saw things
happen of which Master Broussel ought to be warned, and so
with Monsieur Bazin's permission -- you know, mother,
Monsieur Bazin, the verger -- I came to speak to Monsieur
Broussel."
"And what hast thou to say, boy, to Monsieur Broussel?"
"I wish to tell him," replied Friquet, screaming with all
his might, "that there is a whole regiment of guards coming
this way. And as I hear everywhere that at the court they
are ill-disposed to him, I wish to warn him, that he may be
on his guard."
Broussel heard the scream of the young oddity, and,
enchanted with this excess of zeal, came down to the first
floor, for he was, in truth, working in his room on the
second.
"Well," said he, "friend, what matters the regiment of
guards to us, and art thou not mad to make such a
disturbance? Knowest thou not that it is the custom of these
soldiers to act thus and that it is usual for the regiment
to form themselves into two solid walls when the king goes
by?"
Friquet counterfeited surprise, and twisting his new cap
around in his fingers, said:
"It is not astonishing for you to know it, Monsieur
Broussel, who knows everything; but as for me, by holy
truth, I did not know it and I thought I would give you good
advice; you must not be angry with me for that, Monsieur
Broussel."
"On the contrary, my boy, on the contrary, I am pleased with
your zeal. Dame Nanette, look for those apricots which
Madame de Longueville sent to us yesterday from Noisy and
give half a dozen of them to your son, with a crust of new
bread."
"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, Monsieur Broussel," said
Friquet; "I am so fond of apricots!"
Broussel then proceeded to his wife's room and asked for
breakfast; it was nine o'clock. The councillor placed
himself at the window; the street was completely deserted,
but in the distance was heard, like the noise of the tide
rushing in, the deep hum of the populous waves increasing
now around Notre Dame.
This noise redoubled when D'Artagnan, with a company of
musketeers, placed himself at the gates of Notre Dame to
secure the service of the church. He had instructed Porthos
to profit by this opportunity to see the ceremony; and
Porthos, in full dress, mounted his finest horse, taking the
part of supernumerary musketeer, as D'Artagnan had so often
done formerly. The sergeant of this company, a veteran of
the Spanish wars, had recognized Porthos, his old companion,
and very soon all those who served under him were placed in
possession of startling facts concerning the honor of the
ancient musketeers of Treville. Porthos had not only been
well received by the company, but he was moreover looked on
with great admiration.
At ten o'clock the guns of the Louvre announced the
departure of the king, and then a movement, similar to that
of trees in a stormy wind that bend and writhe with agitated
tops, ran though the multitude, which was compressed behind
the immovable muskets of the guard. At last the king
appeared with the queen in a gilded chariot. Ten other
carriages followed, containing the ladies of honor, the
officers of the royal household, and the court.
"God save the king!" was the cry in every direction; the
young monarch gravely put his head out of the window, looked
sufficiently grateful and even bowed; at which the cries of
the multitude were renewed.
Just as the court was settling down in the cathedral, a
carriage, bearing the arms of Comminges, quitted the line of
the court carriages and proceeded slowly to the end of the
Rue Saint Christophe, now entirely deserted. When it arrived
there, four guards and a police officer, who accompanied it,
mounted into the heavy machine and closed the shutters; then
through an opening cautiously made, the policeman began to
watch the length of the Rue Cocatrix, as if he was waiting
for some one.
All the world was occupied with the ceremony, so that
neither the chariot nor the precautions taken by those who
were within it had been observed. Friquet, whose eye, ever
on the alert, could alone have discovered them, had gone to
devour his apricots upon the entablature of a house in the
square of Notre Dame. Thence he saw the king, the queen and
Monsieur Mazarin, and heard the mass as well as if he had
been on duty.
Toward the end of the service, the queen, seeing Comminges
standing near her, waiting for a confirmation of the order
she had given him before quitting the Louvre, said in a
whisper:
"Go, Comminges, and may God aid you!"
Comminges immediately left the church and entered the Rue
Saint Christophe. Friquet, seeing this fine officer thus
walk away, followed by two guards, amused himself by
pursuing them and did this so much the more gladly as the
ceremony ended at that instant and the king remounted his
carriage.
Hardly had the police officer observed Comminges at the end
of the Rue Cocatrix when he said one word to the coachman,
who at once put his vehicle into motion and drove up before
Broussel's door. Comminges knocked at the door at the same
moment, and Friquet was waiting behind Comminges until the
door should be opened.
"What dost thou there, rascal?" asked Comminges.
"I want to go into Master Broussel's house, captain,"
replied Friquet, in that wheedling way the "gamins" of Paris
know so well how to assume when necessary.
"And on what floor does he live?" asked Comminges.
"In the whole house," said Friquet; "the house belongs to
him; he occupies the second floor when he works and descends
to the first to take his meals; he must be at dinner now; it
is noon."
"Good," said Comminges.
At this moment the door was opened, and having questioned
the servant the officer learned that Master Broussel was at
home and at dinner.
Broussel was seated at the table with his family, having his
wife opposite to him, his two daughters by his side, and his
son, Louvieres, whom we have already seen when the accident
happened to the councillor -- an accident from which he had
quite recovered -- at the bottom of the table. The worthy
man, restored to perfect health, was tasting the fine fruit
which Madame de Longueville had sent to him.
At sight of the officer Broussel was somewhat moved, but
seeing him bow politely he rose and bowed also. Still, in
spite of this reciprocal politeness, the countenances of the
women betrayed a certain amount of uneasiness; Louvieres
became very pale and waited impatiently for the officer to
explain himself.
"Sir," said Comminges, "I am the bearer of an order from the
king."
"Very well, sir," replied Broussel, "what is this order?"
And he held out his hand.
"I am commissioned to seize your person, sir," said
Comminges, in the same tone and with the same politeness;
"and if you will believe me you had better spare yourself
the trouble of reading that long letter and follow me."
A thunderbolt falling in the midst of these good people, so
peacefully assembled there, would not have produced a more
appalling effect. It was a horrible thing at that period to
be imprisoned by the enmity of the king. Louvieres sprang
forward to snatch his sword, which stood against a chair in
a corner of the room; but a glance from the worthy Broussel,
who in the midst of It all did not lose his presence of
mind, checked this foolhardy action of despair. Madame
Broussel, separated by the width of the table from her
husband, burst into tears, and the young girls clung to
their father's arms.
"Come, sir," said Comminges, "make haste; you must obey the
king."
"Sir," said Broussel, "I am in bad health and cannot give
myself up a prisoner in this state; I must have time."
"It is impossible," said Comminges; "the order is strict and
must be put into execution this instant."
"Impossible!" said Louvieres; "sir, beware of driving us to
despair."
"Impossible!" cried a shrill voice from the end of the room.
Comminges turned and saw Dame Nanette, her eyes flashing
with anger and a broom in her hand.
"My good Nanette, be quiet, I beseech you," said Broussel.
"Me! keep quiet while my master is being arrested! he, the
support, the liberator, the father of the people! Ah! well,
yes; you have to know me yet. Are you going?" added she to
Comminges.
The latter smiled.
"Come, sir," said he, addressing Broussel, "silence that
woman and follow me."
"Silence me! me! me!" said Nanette. "Ah! yet one wants some
one besides you for that, my fine king's cockatoo! You shall
see." And Dame Nanette sprang to the window, threw it open,
and in such a piercing voice that it might have been heard
in the square of Notre Dame:
"Help!" she screamed, "my master is being arrested; the
Councillor Broussel is being arrested! Help!"
"Sir," said Comminges, "declare yourself at once; will you
obey or do you intend to rebel against the king?"
"I obey, I obey, sir!" cried Broussel, trying to disengage
himself from the grasp of his two daughters and by a look
restrain his son, who seemed determined to dispute
authority.
"In that case," commanded Comminges, "silence that old
woman."
"Ah! old woman!" screamed Nanette.
And she began to shriek more loudly, clinging to the bars of
the window:
"Help! help! for Master Broussel, who is arrested because he
has defended the people! Help!"
Comminges seized the servant around the waist and would have
dragged her from her post; but at that instant a treble
voice, proceeding from a kind of entresol, was heard
screeching:
"Murder! fire! assassins! Master Broussel is being killed!
Master Broussel is being strangled."
It was Friquet's voice; and Dame Nanette, feeling herself
supported, recommenced with all her strength to sound her
shrilly squawk.
Many curious faces had already appeared at the windows and
the people attracted to the end of the street began to run,
first men, then groups, and then a crowd of people; hearing
cries and seeing a chariot they could not understand it; but
Friquet sprang from the entresol on to the top of the
carriage.
"They want to arrest Master Broussel!" he cried; "the guards
are in the carriage and the officer is upstairs!"
The crowd began to murmur and approached the house. The two
guards who had remained in the lane mounted to the aid of
Comminges; those who were in the chariot opened the doors
and presented arms.
"Don't you see them?" cried Friquet, "don't you see? there
they are!"
The coachman turning around, gave Friquet a slash with his
whip which made him scream with pain.
"Ah! devil's coachman!" cried Friquet, "you're meddling too!
Wait!"
And regaining his entresol he overwhelmed the coachman with
every projectile he could lay hands on.
The tumult now began to increase; the street was not able to
contain the spectators who assembled from every direction;
the crowd invaded the space which the dreaded pikes of the
guards had till then kept clear between them and the
carriage. The soldiers, pushed back by these living walls,
were in danger of being crushed against the spokes of the
wheels and the panels of the carriages. The cries which the
police officer repeated twenty times: "In the king's name,"
were powerless against this formidable multitude -- seemed,
on the contrary, to exasperate it still more; when, at the
shout, "In the name of the king," an officer ran up, and
seeing the uniforms ill-treated, he sprang into the scuffle
sword in hand, and brought unexpected help to the guards.
This gentleman was a young man, scarcely sixteen years of
age, now white with anger. He leaped from his charger,
placed his back against the shaft of the carriage, making a
rampart of his horse, drew his pistols from their holsters
and fastened them to his belt, and began to fight with the
back sword, like a man accustomed to the handling of his
weapon.
During ten minutes he alone kept the crowd at bay; at last
Comminges appeared, pushing Broussel before him.
"Let us break the carriage!" cried the people.
"In the king's name!" cried Comminges.
"The first who advances is a dead man!" cried Raoul, for it
was in fact he, who, feeling himself pressed and almost
crushed by a gigantic citizen, pricked him with the point of
his sword and sent him howling back.
Comminges, so to speak, threw Broussel into the carriage and
sprang in after him. At this moment a shot was fired and a
ball passed through the hat of Comminges and broke the arm
of one of the guards. Comminges looked up and saw amidst the
smoke the threatening face of Louvieres appearing at the
