inundated half the capital. The two gentlemen were obliged,
therefore, to get off their horses and take a boat; and in
that strange manner they approached the Louvre.
Night had closed in, and Paris, seen thus, by the light of
lanterns flickering on the pools of water, crowded with
ferry-boats of every kind, including those that glittered
with the armed patrols, with the watchword, passing from
post to post -- Paris presented such an aspect as to
strongly seize the senses of Aramis, a man most susceptible
to warlike impressions.
They reached the queen's apartments, but were compelled to
stop in the ante-chamber, since her majesty was at that
moment giving audience to gentlemen bringing her news from
England.
"We? too?" said Athos, to the footman who had given him that
answer, "not only bring news from England, but have just
come from there."
"What? then, are your names, gentlemen?"
"The Comte de la Fere and the Chevalier d'Herblay," said
Aramis.
"Ah! in that case, gentlemen," said the footman, on hearing
the names which the queen had so often pronounced with hope,
"in that case it is another thing, and I think her majesty
will pardon me for not keeping you here a moment. Please
follow me," and he went on before, followed by Athos and
Aramis.
On arriving at the door of the room where the queen was
receiving he made a sign for them to wait and opening the
door:
"Madame," he said, "I hope your majesty will forgive me for
disobeying your orders, when you learn that the gentlemen I
have come to announce are the Comte de la Fere and the
Chevalier d'Herblay."
On hearing those two names the queen uttered a cry of joy,
which the two gentlemen heard.
"Poor queen!" murmured Athos.
"Oh, let them come in! let them come in," cried the young
princess, bounding to the door.
The poor child was constant in her attendance on her mother
and sought by her filial attentions to make her forget the
absence of her two sons and her other daughter.
"Come in, gentlemen," repeated the princess, opening the
door herself.
The queen was seated on a fauteuil and before her were
standing two or three gentlemen, and among them the Duc de
Chatillon, the brother of the nobleman killed eight or nine
years previously in a duel on account of Madame de
Longueville, on the Place Royale. All these gentlemen had
been noticed by Athos and Aramis in the guardhouse, and when
the two friends were announced they started and exchanged
some words in a low tone. "Well, sirs!" cried the queen, on
perceiving the two friends, "you have come, faithful
friends! But the royal couriers have been more expeditious
than you, and here are Monsieur de Flamarens and Monsieur de
Chatillon, who bring me from Her Majesty the Queen Anne of
Austria, the very latest intelligence."
Aramis and Athos were astounded by the calmness, even the
gayety of the queen's manner.
"Go on with your recital, sirs," said the queen, turning to
the Duc de Chatillon. "You said that His Majesty, King
Charles, my august consort, had been condemned to death by a
majority of his subjects!"
"Yes, madame," Chatillon stammered out.
Athos and Aramis were more and more astonished.
"And that being conducted to the scaffold," resumed the
queen -- "oh, my lord! oh, my king! -- and that being led to
the scaffold he had been saved by an indignant people."
"Just so madame," replied Chatillon, in so low a voice that
though the two friends were listening eagerly they could
hardly hear this affirmation.
The queen clasped her hands in enthusiastic gratitude,
whilst her daughter threw her arms around her mother's neck
and kissed her -- her own eyes streaming with tears.
"Now, madame, nothing remains to me except to proffer my
respectful homage," said Chatillon, who felt confused and
ashamed beneath the stern gaze of Athos.
"One moment, yes," answered the queen. "One moment -- I beg
-- for here are the Chevalier d'Herblay and the Comte de la
Fere, just arrived from London, and they can give you, as
eye-witnesses, such details as you can convey to the queen,
my royal sister. Speak, gentlemen, speak -- I am listening;
conceal nothing, gloss over nothing. Since his majesty still
lives, since the honor of the throne is safe, everything
else is a matter of indifference to me."
Athos turned pale and laid his hand on his heart.
"Well!" exclaimed the queen, who remarked this movement and
his paleness. "Speak, sir! I beg you to do so."
"I beg you to excuse me, madame; I wish to add nothing to
the recital of these gentlemen until they perceive
themselves that they have perhaps been mistaken."
"Mistaken!" cried the queen, almost suffocated by emotion;
"mistaken! what has happened, then?"
"Sir," interposed Monsieur de Flamarens to Athos, "if we are
mistaken the error has originated with the queen. I do not
suppose you will have the presumption to set it to rights --
that would be to accuse Her Majesty, Queen Anne, of
falsehood."
"With the queen, sir?" replied Athos, in his calm, vibrating
voice.
"Yes," murmured Flamarens, lowering his eyes.
Athos sighed deeply.
"Or rather, sir," said Aramis, with his peculiar irritating
politeness, "the error of the person who was with you when
we met you in the guardroom; for if the Comte de la Fere and
I are not mistaken, we saw you in the company of a third
gentleman."
Chatillon and Flamarens started.
"Explain yourself, count!" cried the queen, whose anxiety
grew greater every moment. "On your brow I read despair --
your lips falter ere you announce some terrible tidings --
your hands tremble. Oh, my God! my God! what has happened?"
"Lord!" ejaculated the young princess, falling on her knees,
"have mercy on us!"
"Sir," said Chatillon, "if you bring bad tidings it will be
cruel in you to announce them to the queen."
Aramis went so close to Chatillon as almost to touch him.
"Sir," said he, with compressed lips and flashing eyes, "you
have not the presumption to instruct the Comte de la Fere
and myself what we ought to say here?"
During this brief altercation Athos, with his hands on his
heart, his head bent low, approached the queen and in a
voice of deepest sorrow said:
"Madame, princes -- who by nature are above other men --
receive from Heaven courage to support greater misfortunes
than those of lower rank, for their hearts are elevated as
their fortunes. We ought not, therefore, I think, to act
toward a queen so illustrious as your majesty as we should
act toward a woman of our lowlier condition. Queen, destined
as you are to endure every sorrow on this earth, hear the
result of our unhappy mission."
Athos, kneeling down before the queen, trembling and very
cold, drew from his bosom, inclosed in the same case, the
order set in diamonds which the queen had given to Lord de
Winter and the wedding ring which Charles I. before his
death had placed in the hands of Aramis. Since the moment he
had first received these two mementoes Athos had never
parted with them.
He opened the case and offered them to the queen with deep
and silent anguish.
The queen stretched out her hand, seized the ring, pressed
it convulsively to her lips -- and without being able to
breathe a sigh, to give vent to a sob, she extended her
arms, became deadly pale, and fell senseless in the arms of
her attendants and her daughter.
Athos kissed the hem of the robe of the widowed queen and
rising, with a dignity that made a deep impression on those
around:
"I, the Comte de la Fere, a gentleman who has never deceived
any human being, swear before God and before this unhappy
queen, that all that was possible to save the king of
England was done whilst we were on English ground. Now,
chevalier," he added, turning to Aramis, "let us go. Our
duty is fulfilled."
"Not yet." said Aramis; "we have still a word to say to
these gentlemen."
And turning to Chatillon: "Sir, be so good as not to go away
without giving me an opportunity to tell you something I
cannot say before the queen."
Chatillon bowed in token of assent and they all went out,
stopping at the window of a gallery on the ground floor.
"Sir," said Aramis, "you allowed yourself just now to treat
us in a most extraordinary manner. That would not be
endurable in any case, and is still less so on the part of
those who came to bring the queen the message of a liar."
"Sir!" cried De Chatillon.
"What have you done with Monsieur de Bruy? Has he by any
possibility gone to change his face which was too like that
of Monsieur de Mazarin? There is an abundance of Italian
masks at the Palais Royal, from harlequin even to
pantaloon."
"Chevalier! chevalier!" said Athos.
"Leave me alone," said Aramis impatiently. "You know well
that I don't like to leave things half finished."
"Conclude, then, sir," answered De Chatillon, with as much
hauteur as Aramis.
"Gentlemen," resumed Aramis, "any one but the Comte de la
Fere and myself would have had you arrested -- for we have
friends in Paris -- but we are contented with another
course. Come and converse with us for just five minutes,
sword in hand, upon this deserted terrace."
"One moment, gentlemen," cried Flamarens. "I know well that
the proposition is tempting, but at present it is impossible
to accept it."
"And why not?" said Aramis, in his tone of raillery. "Is it
Mazarin's proximity that makes you so prudent?"
"Oh, you hear that, Flamarens!" said Chatillon. "Not to
reply would be a blot on my name and my honor."
"That is my opinion," said Aramis.
"You will not reply, however, and these gentlemen, I am
sure, will presently be of my opinion."
Aramis shook his head with a motion of indescribable
insolence.
Chatillon saw the motion and put his hand to his sword.
"Willingly," replied De Chatillon.
"Duke," said Flamarens, "you forget that to-morrow you are
to command an expedition of the greatest importance,
projected by the prince, assented to by the queen. Until
to-morrow evening you are not at your own disposal."
"Let it be then the day after to-morrow," said Aramis.
"To-morrow, rather," said De Chatillon, "if you will take
the trouble of coming so far as the gates of Charenton."
"How can you doubt it, sir? For the pleasure of a meeting
with you I would go to the end of the world."
"Very well, to-morrow, sir."
"I shall rely on it. Are you going to rejoin your cardinal?
Swear first, on your honor, not to inform him of our
return."
"Conditions?"
"Why not?"
"Because it is for victors to make conditions, and you are
not yet victors, gentlemen."
"Then let us draw on the spot. It is all one to us -- to us
who do not command to-morrow's expedition."
Chatillon and Flamarens looked at each other. There was such
irony in the words and in the bearing of Aramis that the
duke had great difficulty in bridling his anger, but at a
word from Flamarens he restrained himself and contented
himself with saying:
"You promise, sir -- that's agreed -- that I shall find you
to-morrow at Charenton?"
"Oh, don't be afraid, sir," replied Aramis; and the two
gentlemen shortly afterward left the Louvre.
"For what reason is all this fume and fury?" asked Athos.
"What have they done to you?"
"They -- did you not see what they did?"
"No."
"They laughed when we swore that we had done our duty in
England. Now, if they believed us, they laughed in order to
insult us; if they did not believe it they insulted us all
the more. However, I'm glad not to fight them until
to-morrow. I hope we shall have something better to do
to-night than to draw the sword."
"What have we to do?"
"Egad! to take Mazarin."
Athos curled his lip with disdain.
"These undertakings do not suit me, as you know, Aramis."
"Why?"
"Because it is taking people unawares."
"Really, Athos, you would make a singular general. You would
fight only by broad daylight, warn your foe before an
attack, and never attempt anything by night lest you should
be accused of taking advantage of the darkness."
Athos smiled.
"You know one cannot change his nature," he said. "Besides,
do you know what is our situation, and whether Mazarin's
arrest wouldn't be rather an encumbrance than an advantage?"
"Say at once you disapprove of my proposal."
"I think you ought to do nothing, since you exacted a
promise from these gentlemen not to let Mazarin know that we
were in France."
"I have entered into no engagement and consider myself quite
free. Come, come."
"Where?"
"Either to seek the Duc de Beaufort or the Duc de Bouillon,
and to tell them about this."
"Yes, but on one condition -- that we begin by the
coadjutor. He is a priest, learned in cases of conscience,
and we will tell him ours."
It was then agreed that they were to go first to Monsieur de
Bouillon, as his house came first; but first of all Athos
begged that he might go to the Hotel du Grand Charlemagne,
to see Raoul.
They re-entered the boat which had brought them to the
