Instead of the hesitation with which he had accosted the cardinal aquarter of an hour before, there might be read in the eyes of the youngking that will against which a struggle might be maintained, and whichmight be crushed by its own impotence, but which, at least, wouldpreserve, like a wound in the depth of the heart, the remembrance of itsdefeat.
"This time, my lord cardinal, we have to deal with something more easilyfound than a million."
"Do you think so, sire?" said Mazarin, looking at the king with thatpenetrating eye which was accustomed to read to the bottom of hearts.
"Yes, I think so; and when you know the object of my request----"
"And do you think I do not know it, sire?"
"You know what remains for me to say to you?"
"Listen, sire; these are King Charles's own words----"
"Oh, impossible!"
"Listen. 'And if that miserly, beggarly Italian,' said he----"
"My lord cardinal!"
"That is the sense, if not the words. Eh! Good heavens! I wish him noill on that account, one is biased by his passions. He said to you: 'Ifthat vile Italian refuses the million we ask of him, sire,--if we areforced, for want of money, to renounce diplomacy, well, then, we willask him to grant us five hundred gentlemen.'"
The king started, for the cardinal was only mistaken in the number.
"Is not that it, sire?" cried the minister, with a triumphant accent."And then he added some fine words: he said, 'I have friends on theother side of the channel, and these friends only want a leader and abanner. When they see me, when they behold the banner of France, theywill rally round me, for they will comprehend that I have your support.The colors of the French uniform will be worth as much to me as themillion M. de Mazarin refuses us,'--for he was pretty well assuredI should refuse him that million.--'I shall conquer with these fivehundred gentlemen, sire, and all the honor will be yours.' Now, that iswhat he said, or to that purpose, was it not?--turning those plain wordsinto brilliant metaphors and pompous images, for they are fine talkersin that family! The father talked even on the scaffold."
The perspiration of shame stood upon the brow of Louis. He felt that itwas inconsistent with his dignity to hear his brother thus insulted, buthe did not yet know how to act with him to whom every one yielded, evenhis mother. At last he made an effort.
"But," said he, "my lord cardinal, it is not five hundred men, it isonly two hundred."
"Well, but you see I guessed what he wanted."
"I never denied that you had a penetrating eye, and that was why Ithought you would not refuse my brother Charles a thing so simple and soeasy to grant him as what I ask of you in his name, my lord cardinal, orrather in my own."
"Sire," said Mazarin, "I have studied policy thirty years; first, underthe auspices of M. le Cardinal de Richelieu; and then alone. This policyhas not always been over-honest, it must be allowed, but it has neverbeen unskillful. Now that which is proposed to your majesty is dishonestand unskillful at the same time."
"Dishonest, monsieur!"
"Sire, you entered into a treaty with Cromwell."
"Yes, and in that very treaty Cromwell signed his name above mine."
"Why did you sign yours so low down, sire? Cromwell found a good place,and he took it; that was his custom. I return, then, to M. Cromwell.You have a treaty with him, that is to say, with England, since when yousigned that treaty M. Cromwell was England."
"M. Cromwell is dead."
"Do you think so, sire?"
"No doubt he is, since his son Richard has succeeded him, and hasabdicated."
"Yes, that is it exactly. Richard inherited after the death of hisfather, and England at the abdication of Richard. The treaty formed partof the inheritance, whether in the hands of M. Richard or in the handsof England. The treaty is, then, still as good, as valid as ever. Whyshould you evade it, sire? What is changed? Charles wants to-day what wewere not willing to grant him ten years ago; but that was foreseen andprovided against. You are the ally of England, sire, and not of CharlesII. It was doubtless wrong, from a family point of view, to sign atreaty with a man who had cut off the head of the king your father'sbrother-in-law, and to contract an alliance with a parliament which theycall yonder the Rump Parliament; it was unbecoming, I acknowledge, butit was not unskillful from a political point of view, since, thanks tothat treaty, I saved your majesty, then a minor, the trouble and dangerof a foreign war, which the Fronde--you remember the Fronde sire?"--theyoung king hung his head--"which the Fronde might have fatallycomplicated. And thus I prove to your majesty that to change ourplan now; without warning our allies, would be at once unskillful anddishonest. We should make war with the aggression on our side, we shouldmake it, deserving to have it made against us, and we should have theappearance of fearing it whilst provoking it, for a permission grantedto five hundred men, to two hundred men, to fifty men, to ten men, isstill a permission. One Frenchman, that is the nation; one uniform,that is the army. Suppose, sire, for example, that, sooner or later,you should have war with Holland, which, sooner or later, will certainlyhappen; or with Spain, which will perhaps ensue if your marriage fails"(Mazarin stole a furtive glance at the king), "and there are a thousandcauses that might yet make your marriage fail,--well, would you approveof England's sending to the United Provinces or to Spain a regiment,a company, a squadron even, of English gentlemen? Would you think thatthey kept within the limits of their treaty of alliance?"
Louis listened; it seemed so strange to him that Mazarin should invokegood faith, and he the author of so many political tricks, calledMazarinades. "And yet," said the king, "without any manifestauthorization, I cannot prevent gentlemen of my states from passing overinto England, if such should be their good pleasure."
"You should compel them to return, sire, or at least protest againsttheir presence as enemies in an allied country."
"But come, my lord cardinal, you who are so profound a genius, try ifyou cannot find means to assist this poor king, without compromisingourselves."
"And that is exactly what I am not willing to do, my dear sire," saidMazarin. "If England were to act exactly according to my wishes, shecould not act better than she does; if I directed the policy of Englandfrom this place, I should not direct it otherwise. Governed as sheis governed, England is an eternal nest of contention for all Europe.Holland protects Charles II., let Holland do so; they will quarrel, theywill fight. They are the only two maritime powers. Let them destroy eachother's navies, we can construct ours with the wrecks of their vessels;when we shall save our money to buy nails."
"Oh, how paltry and mean is all this that you are telling me, monsieurle cardinal!"
"Yes, but nevertheless it is true, sire; you must confess that. Stillfurther. Suppose I admit, for a moment, the possibility of breaking yourword, and evading the treaty--such a thing sometimes happens, but thatis when some great interest is to be promoted by it, or when the treatyis found to be too troublesome--well, you will authorize the engagementasked of you: France--her banner, which is the same thing--will crossthe Straits and will fight; France will be conquered."
"Why so?"
"Ma foi! we have a pretty general to fight under this Charles II.!Worcester gave us good proofs of that."
"But he will no longer have to deal with Cromwell, monsieur."
"But he will have to deal with Monk, who is quite as dangerous. Thebrave brewer of whom we are speaking was a visionary; he had moments ofexaltation, of inflation, during which he ran over like an over-filledcask; and from the chinks there always escaped some drops of histhoughts, and by the sample the whole of his thought was to be made out.Cromwell has thus allowed us more than ten times to penetrate into hisvery soul, when one would have conceived that soul to be enveloped intriple brass, as Horace has it. But Monk! Oh, sire, God defend you fromever having anything to transact politically with Monk. It is he who hasgiven me, in one year, all the gray hairs I have. Monk is no fanatic;unfortunately he is a politician; he does not overflow, he keeps
closetogether. For ten years he has had his eyes fixed upon one object, andnobody has yet been able to ascertain what. Every morning, as Louis XI.advised, he burns his nightcap. Therefore, on the day when thisplan slowly and solitarily ripened, shall break forth, it will breakforthwith all the conditions of success which always accompany anunforeseen event. That is Monk, sire, of whom perhaps, you have neverheard--of whom, perhaps, you did not even know the name before yourbrother Charles II., who knows what he is, pronounced it before you.He is a marvel of depth and tenacity, the two only things against whichintelligence and ardor are blunted. Sire, I had ardor when I wasyoung, I always was intelligent. I may safely boast of it, because Iam reproached with it. I have done very well with these two qualities,since, from the son of a fisherman of Piscina, I have become primeminister to the king of France; and in that position your majesty willperhaps acknowledge I have rendered some service to the throne ofyour majesty. Well, sire, if I had met with Monk on my way, instead ofMonsieur de Beaufort, Monsieur de Retz, or Monsieur le Prince--well, weshould have been ruined. If you engage yourself rashly, sire, you willfall into the talons of this politic soldier. The casque of Monk, sire,is an iron coffer, in the recesses of which he shuts up his thoughts,and no one has the key of it. Therefore, near him, or rather before him,I bow, sire, for I have nothing but a velvet cap."
"What do you think Monk wishes to do, then?"
"Eh! sire, if I knew that, I would not tell you to mistrust him, forI should be stronger than he; but with him, I am afraid to guess--toguess!--you understand my word?--for if I thought I had guessed, Ishould stop at an idea, and, in spite of myself, should pursue thatidea. Since that man has been in power yonder, I am like one of thedamned in Dante whose neck Satan has twisted, and who walk forwardlooking behind them. I am traveling towards Madrid, but I never losesight of London. To guess, with that devil of a man, is to deceive one'sself, and to deceive one's self is to ruin one's self. God keep me fromever seeking to guess what he aims at; I confine myself to watching whathe does, and that is well enough. Now I believe--you observe the meaningof the word I believe?--I believe, with respect to Monk, ties one tonothing--I believe that he has a strong inclination to succeed Cromwell.Your Charles II. has already caused proposals to be made to him by tenpersons; he has satisfied himself with driving these ten meddlers fromhis presence, without saying anything to them but, 'Begone, or Iwill have you hung.' That man is a sepulcher! At this moment Monk isaffecting devotion to the Rump Parliament; of this devotion, observe, Iam not the dupe. Monk has no wish to be assassinated,--an assassinationwould stop him in the midst of his operations, and his work must beaccomplished;--so I believe--but do not believe, what I believe, sire:for I say I believe from habit--I believe that Monk is keeping onfriendly terms with the parliament till the day comes for dispersingit. You are asked for swords, but they are to fight against Monk. Godpreserve you from fighting against Monk sire; for Monk would beat us,and I should never console myself after being beaten by Monk. I shouldsay to myself, Monk has foreseen that victory ten years. For God'ssake, sire, out of friendship for you, if not out of consideration forhimself, let Charles II. keep quiet. Your majesty will give him a littleincome here; give him one of your chateaux. Yes, yes--wait awhile. ButI forgot the treaty--that famous treaty of which we were just nowspeaking. Your majesty has not even the right to give him a chateau."
"How is that?"
"Yes, yes, your majesty is bound not to grant hospitality to KingCharles, and to compel him to leave France even. It was on this accountwe forced him to quit you, and yet here he is again. Sire, I hope youwill give your brother to understand that he cannot remain with us; thatit is impossible he should be allowed to compromise us, or I myself----"
"Enough, my lord," said Louis XIV, rising. "In refusing me a million,perhaps you may be right; your millions are your own. In refusing me twohundred gentlemen, you are still further in the right; for you are primeminister, and you have, in the eyes of France, the responsibility ofpeace and war. But that you should pretend to prevent me, who am king,from extending my hospitality to the grandson of Henry IV., to mycousin-german, to the companion of my childhood--there your power stops,and there begins my will."
"Sire," said Mazarin, delighted at being let off so cheaply, and whohad, besides, only fought so earnestly to arrive at that,--"sire, Ishall always bend before the will of my king. Let my king, then, keepnear him, or in one of his chateaux, the king of England; let Mazarinknow it, but let not the minister know it."
"Good-night, my lord," said Louis XIV., "I go away in despair."
"But convinced, and that is all I desire, sire," replied Mazarin.
The king made no answer, and retired quite pensive, convinced, not ofall Mazarin had told him, but of one thing which he took care not tomention to him; and that was, that it was necessary for him to studyseriously both his own affairs and those of Europe, for he found themvery difficult and very obscure. Louis found the king of England seatedin the same place where he had left him. On perceiving him, the Englishprince arose; but at the first glance he saw discouragement writtenin dark letters upon his cousin's brow. Then, speaking first, as if tofacilitate the painful avowal that Louis had to make to him,--
"Whatever it may be," said he, "I shall never forget all the kindness,all the friendship you have exhibited towards me."
"Alas!" replied Louis, in a melancholy tone, "only barren good-will, mybrother."
Charles II. became extremely pale; he passed his cold hand over hisbrow, and struggled for a few instants against a faintness that made himtremble. "I understand," said he at last; "no more hope!"
Louis seized the hand of Charles II. "Wait, my brother," said he;"precipitate nothing, everything may change; hasty resolutions ruin allcauses, add another year of trial, I implore you, to the years you havealready undergone. You have, to induce you to act now rather thanat another time, neither occasion nor opportunity. Come with me, mybrother; I will give you one of my residences, whichever you prefer, toinhabit. I, with you, will keep my eyes upon events; we will prepare.Come, then, my brother, have courage!"
Charles II. withdrew his hand from that of the king, and drawing back,to salute him with more ceremony, "With all my heart, thanks!" repliedhe, "sire; but I have prayed without success to the greatest king onearth; now I will go and ask a miracle of God." And he went out withoutbeing willing to hear any more, his head carried loftily, his handtrembling, with a painful contraction of his noble countenance, and thatprofound gloom which, finding no more hope in the world of men,appeared to go beyond it, and ask it in worlds unknown. The officer ofmusketeers, on seeing him pass by thus pale, bowed almost to his kneesas he saluted him. He then took a flambeau, called two musketeers, anddescended the deserted staircase with the unfortunate king, holding inhis left hand his hat, the plume of which swept the steps. Arrived atthe door, the musketeer asked the king which way he was going, that hemight direct the musketeers.
"Monsieur," replied Charles II., in a subdued voice, "you who have knownmy father, say, did you ever pray for him? If you have done so, do notforget me in your prayers. Now, I am going alone, and beg of you not toaccompany me, or have me accompanied any further."
The officer bowed and sent away the musketeers into the interior of thepalace. But he himself remained an instant under the porch watching thedeparting Charles II., till he was lost in the turn of the next street."To him as to his father formerly," murmured he, "Athos, if hewere here, would say with reason,--'Salute fallen majesty!'" Then,reascending the staircase: "Oh! the vile service that I follow!" said heat every step. "Oh! my pitiful master! Life thus carried on is no longertolerable, and it is at length time that I should do something! Nomore generosity, no more energy! The master has succeeded, the pupil isstarved forever. Mordioux! I will not resist. Come, you men," continuedhe, entering the ante-chamber, "why are you all looking at me so?Extinguish these torches and return to your posts. Ah! you were guardingme? Yes, you watch over me, do you not, worthy fellows? Brave fools!I am
not the Duc de Guise. Begone! They will not assassinate me in thelittle passage. Besides," added he, in a low voice, "that would bea resolution, and no resolutions have been formed since Monsieur leCardinal de Richelieu died. Now, with all his faults, that was a man! Itis settled: to-morrow I will throw my cassock to the nettles."
Then, reflecting: "No," said he, "not yet! I have one great trial tomake and I will make it; but that, and I swear it, shall be the last,Mordioux!"
He had not finished speaking when a voice issued from the king'schamber. "Monsieur le lieutenant!" said this voice.
"Here am I," replied he.
"The king desires to speak to you."
"Humph!" said the lieutenant; "perhaps of what I was thinking about."And he went into the king's apartment.
CHAPTER 12. The King and the Lieutenant