2. A Nightly Patrol.
In ten minutes Mazarin and his party were traversing the street "LesBons Enfants" behind the theatre built by Richelieu expressly for theplay of "Mirame," and in which Mazarin, who was an amateur of music, butnot of literature, had introduced into France the first opera that wasever acted in that country.
The appearance of the town denoted the greatest agitation. Numberlessgroups paraded the streets and, whatever D'Artagnan might think of it,it was obvious that the citizens had for the night laid aside theirusual forbearance, in order to assume a warlike aspect. From time totime noises came in the direction of the public markets. The report offirearms was heard near the Rue Saint Denis and occasionally churchbells began to ring indiscriminately and at the caprice of the populace.D'Artagnan, meantime, pursued his way with the indifference of a manupon whom such acts of folly made no impression. When he approached agroup in the middle of the street he urged his horse upon it without aword of warning; and the members of the group, whether rebels or not, asif they knew with what sort of a man they had to deal, at once gaveplace to the patrol. The cardinal envied that composure, which heattributed to the habit of meeting danger; but none the less heconceived for the officer under whose orders he had for the momentplaced himself, that consideration which even prudence pays to carelesscourage. On approaching an outpost near the Barriere des Sergens, thesentinel cried out, "Who's there?" and D'Artagnan answered--having firstasked the word of the cardinal--"Louis and Rocroy." After which heinquired if Lieutenant Comminges were not the commanding officer at theoutpost. The soldier replied by pointing out to him an officer who wasconversing, on foot, his hand upon the neck of a horse on which theindividual to whom he was talking sat. Here was the officer D'Artagnanwas seeking.
"Here is Monsieur Comminges," said D'Artagnan, returning to thecardinal. He instantly retired, from a feeling of respectful delicacy;it was, however, evident that the cardinal was recognized by bothComminges and the other officers on horseback.
"Well done, Guitant," cried the cardinal to the equestrian; "I seeplainly that, notwithstanding the sixty-four years that have passed overyour head, you are still the same man, active and zealous. What were yousaying to this youngster?"
"My lord," replied Guitant, "I was observing that we live in troubloustimes and that to-day's events are very like those in the days of theLigue, of which I heard so much in my youth. Are you aware that the mobhave even suggested throwing up barricades in the Rue Saint Denis andthe Rue Saint Antoine?"
"And what was Comminges saying to you in reply, my good Guitant?"
"My lord," said Comminges, "I answered that to compose a Ligue only oneingredient was wanting--in my opinion an essential one--a Duc de Guise;moreover, no generation ever does the same thing twice."
"No, but they mean to make a Fronde, as they call it," said Guitant.
"And what is a Fronde?" inquired Mazarin.
"My lord, Fronde is the name the discontented give to their party."
"And what is the origin of this name?"
"It seems that some days since Councillor Bachaumont remarked at thepalace that rebels and agitators reminded him of schoolboysslinging--qui frondent--stones from the moats round Paris, young urchinswho run off the moment the constable appears, only to return to theirdiversion the instant his back is turned. So they have picked up theword and the insurrectionists are called 'Frondeurs,' and yesterdayevery article sold was 'a la Fronde;' bread 'a la Fronde,' hats 'a laFronde,' to say nothing of gloves, pocket-handkerchiefs, and fans; butlisten----"
At that moment a window opened and a man began to sing:
| "A tempest from the Fronde | Did blow to-day: | I think 'twill blow | Sieur Mazarin away."
"Insolent wretch!" cried Guitant.
"My lord," said Comminges, who, irritated by his wounds, wished forrevenge and longed to give back blow for blow, "shall I fire off a ballto punish that jester, and to warn him not to sing so much out of tunein the future?"
And as he spoke he put his hand on the holster of his uncle'ssaddle-bow.
"Certainly not! certainly not," exclaimed Mazarin. "Diavolo! my dearfriend, you are going to spoil everything--everything is going onfamously. I know the French as well as if I had made them myself. Theysing--let them pay the piper. During the Ligue, about which Guitant wasspeaking just now, the people chanted nothing except the mass, soeverything went to destruction. Come, Guitant, come along, and let's seeif they keep watch at the Quinze-Vingts as at the Barriere des Sergens."
And waving his hand to Comminges he rejoined D'Artagnan, who instantlyput himself at the head of his troop, followed by the cardinal, Guitantand the rest of the escort.
"Just so," muttered Comminges, looking after Mazarin. "True, I forgot;provided he can get money out of the people, that is all he wants."
The street of Saint Honore, when the cardinal and his party passedthrough it, was crowded by an assemblage who, standing in groups,discussed the edicts of that memorable day. They pitied the young king,who was unconsciously ruining his country, and threw all the odium ofhis proceedings on Mazarin. Addresses to the Duke of Orleans and toConde were suggested. Blancmesnil and Broussel seemed in the highestfavor.
D'Artagnan passed through the very midst of this discontented mob justas if his horse and he had been made of iron. Mazarin and Guitantconversed together in whispers. The musketeers, who had alreadydiscovered who Mazarin was, followed in profound silence. In the streetof Saint Thomas-du-Louvre they stopped at the barrier distinguished bythe name of Quinze-Vingts. Here Guitant spoke to one of the subalterns,asking how matters were progressing.
"Ah, captain!" said the officer, "everything is quiet hereabout--if Idid not know that something is going on in yonder house!"
And he pointed to a magnificent hotel situated on the very spot whereonthe Vaudeville now stands.
"In that hotel? it is the Hotel Rambouillet," cried Guitant.
"I really don't know what hotel it is; all I do know is that I observedsome suspicious looking people go in there----"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Guitant, with a burst of laughter; "those men mustbe poets."
"Come, Guitant, speak, if you please, respectfully of these gentlemen,"said Mazarin; "don't you know that I was in my youth a poet? I wroteverses in the style of Benserade----"
"You, my lord?"
"Yes, I; shall I repeat to you some of my verses?"
"Just as you please, my lord. I do not understand Italian."
"Yes, but you understand French," and Mazarin laid his hand uponGuitant's shoulder. "My good, my brave Guitant, whatsoever command I maygive you in that language--in French--whatever I may order you to do,will you not perform it?"
"Certainly. I have already answered that question in the affirmative;but that command must come from the queen herself."
"Yes! ah yes!" Mazarin bit his lips as he spoke; "I know your devotionto her majesty."
"I have been a captain in the queen's guards for twenty years," was thereply.
"En route, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the cardinal; "all goes well inthis direction."
D'Artagnan, in the meantime, had taken the head of his detachmentwithout a word and with that ready and profound obedience which marksthe character of an old soldier.
He led the way toward the hill of Saint Roche. The Rue Richelieu and theRue Villedot were then, owing to their vicinity to the ramparts, lessfrequented than any others in that direction, for the town was thinlyinhabited thereabout.
"Who is in command here?" asked the cardinal.
"Villequier," said Guitant.
"Diavolo! Speak to him yourself, for ever since you were deputed by meto arrest the Duc de Beaufort, this officer and I have been on badterms. He laid claim to that honor as captain of the royal guards."
"I am aware of that, and I have told him a hundred times that he waswrong. The king could not give that order, since at that time he washardly four years old."
"Yes, but I could give him the order--I, Guit
ant--and I preferred togive it to you."
Guitant, without reply, rode forward and desired the sentinel to callMonsieur de Villequier.
"Ah! so you are here!" cried the officer, in the tone of ill-humorhabitual to him; "what the devil are you doing here?"
"I wish to know--can you tell me, pray--is anything fresh occurring inthis part of the town?"
"What do you mean? People cry out, 'Long live the king! down withMazarin!' That's nothing new; no, we've been used to those acclamationsfor some time."
"And you sing chorus," replied Guitant, laughing.
"Faith, I've half a mind to do it. In my opinion the people are right;and cheerfully would I give up five years of my pay--which I am neverpaid, by the way--to make the king five years older."
"Really! And pray what would come to pass, supposing the king were fiveyears older than he is?"
"As soon as ever the king comes of age he will issue his commandshimself, and 'tis far pleasanter to obey the grandson of Henry IV. thanthe son of Peter Mazarin. 'Sdeath! I would die willingly for the king,but supposing I happened to be killed on account of Mazarin, as yournephew came near being to-day, there could be nothing in Paradise,however well placed I might be there, that could console me for it."
"Well, well, Monsieur de Villequier," Mazarin interposed, "I shall makeit my care the king hears of your loyalty. Come, gentlemen," addressingthe troop, "let us return."
"Stop," exclaimed Villequier, "so Mazarin was here! so much the better.I have been waiting for a long time to tell him what I think of him. Iam obliged to you Guitant, although your intention was perhaps not veryfavorable to me, for such an opportunity."
He turned away and went off to his post, whistling a tune then popularamong the party called the "Fronde," whilst Mazarin returned, in apensive mood, toward the Palais Royal. All that he had heard from thesethree different men, Comminges, Guitant and Villequier, confirmed him inhis conviction that in case of serious tumults there would be no one onhis side except the queen; and then Anne of Austria had so oftendeserted her friends that her support seemed most precarious. During thewhole of this nocturnal ride, during the whole time that he wasendeavoring to understand the various characters of Comminges, Guitantand Villequier, Mazarin was, in truth, studying more especially one man.This man, who had remained immovable as bronze when menaced by themob--not a muscle of whose face was stirred, either at Mazarin'switticisms or by the jests of the multitude--seemed to the cardinal apeculiar being, who, having participated in past events similar to thosenow occurring, was calculated to cope with those now on the eve oftaking place.
The name of D'Artagnan was not altogether new to Mazarin, who, althoughhe did not arrive in France before the year 1634 or 1635, that is tosay, about eight or nine years after the events which we have related ina preceding narrative, * fancied he had heard it pronounced as that ofone who was said to be a model of courage, address and loyalty.
* _"The Three Musketeers."_
Possessed by this idea, the cardinal resolved to know all aboutD'Artagnan immediately; of course he could not inquire from D'Artagnanhimself who he was and what had been his career; he remarked, however,in the course of conversation that the lieutenant of musketeers spokewith a Gascon accent. Now the Italians and the Gascons are too muchalike and know each other too well ever to trust what any one of themmay say of himself; so in reaching the walls which surrounded the PalaisRoyal, the cardinal knocked at a little door, and after thankingD'Artagnan and requesting him to wait in the court of the Palais Royal,he made a sign to Guitant to follow him.
They both dismounted, consigned their horses to the lackey who hadopened the door, and disappeared in the garden.
"My dear friend," said the cardinal, leaning, as they walked through thegarden, on his friend's arm, "you told me just now that you had beentwenty years in the queen's service."
"Yes, it's true. I have," returned Guitant.
"Now, my dear Guitant, I have often remarked that in addition to yourcourage, which is indisputable, and your fidelity, which is invincible,you possess an admirable memory."
"You have found that out, have you, my lord? Deuce take it--all theworse for me!"
"How?"
"There is no doubt but that one of the chief accomplishments of acourtier is to know when to forget."
"But you, Guitant, are not a courtier. You are a brave soldier, one ofthe few remaining veterans of the days of Henry IV. Alas! how few to-dayexist!"
"Plague on't, my lord, have you brought me here to get my horoscope outof me?"
"No; I only brought you here to ask you," returned Mazarin, smiling, "ifyou have taken any particular notice of our lieutenant of musketeers?"
"Monsieur d'Artagnan? I have had no occasion to notice him particularly;he's an old acquaintance. He's a Gascon. De Treville knows him andesteems him very highly, and De Treville, as you know, is one of thequeen's greatest friends. As a soldier the man ranks well; he did hiswhole duty and even more, at the siege of Rochelle--as at Suze andPerpignan."
"But you know, Guitant, we poor ministers often want men with otherqualities besides courage; we want men of talent. Pray, was not Monsieurd'Artagnan, in the time of the cardinal, mixed up in some intrigue fromwhich he came out, according to report, quite cleverly?"
"My lord, as to the report you allude to"--Guitant perceived that thecardinal wished to make him speak out--"I know nothing but what thepublic knows. I never meddle in intrigues, and if I occasionally becomea confidant of the intrigues of others I am sure your eminence willapprove of my keeping them secret."
Mazarin shook his head.
"Ah!" he said; "some ministers are fortunate and find out all that theywish to know."
"My lord," replied Guitant, "such ministers do not weigh men in the samebalance; they get their information on war from warriors; on intrigues,from intriguers. Consult some politician of the period of which youspeak, and if you pay well for it you will certainly get to know all youwant."
"Eh, pardieu!" said Mazarin, with a grimace which he always made whenspoken to about money. "They will be paid, if there is no way of gettingout of it."
"Does my lord seriously wish me to name any one who was mixed up in thecabals of that day?"
"By Bacchus!" rejoined Mazarin, impatiently, "it's about an hour since Iasked you for that very thing, wooden-head that you are."
"There is one man for whom I can answer, if he will speak out."
"That's my concern; I will make him speak."
"Ah, my lord, 'tis not easy to make people say what they don't wish tolet out."
"Pooh! with patience one must succeed. Well, this man. Who is he?"
"The Comte de Rochefort."
"The Comte de Rochefort!"
"Unfortunately he has disappeared these four or five years and I don'tknow where he is."
"I know, Guitant," said Mazarin.
"Well, then, how is it that your eminence complained just now of want ofinformation?"
"You think," resumed Mazarin, "that Rochefort----"
"He was Cardinal Richelieu's creature, my lord. I warn you, however, hisservices will cost you something. The cardinal was lavish to hisunderlings."
"Yes, yes, Guitant," said Mazarin; "Richelieu was a great man, a verygreat man, but he had that defect. Thanks, Guitant; I shall benefit byyour advice this very evening."
Here they separated and bidding adieu to Guitant in the court of thePalais Royal, Mazarin approached an officer who was walking up and downwithin that inclosure.
It was D'Artagnan, who was waiting for him.
"Come hither," said Mazarin in his softest voice; "I have an order togive you."
D'Artagnan bent low and following the cardinal up the secret staircase,soon found himself in the study whence they had first set out.
The cardinal seated himself before his bureau and taking a sheet ofpaper wrote some lines upon it, whilst D'Artagnan stood imperturbable,without showing either impatience or curiosity. He was like a soldierlyautomaton, o
r rather, like a magnificent marionette.
The cardinal folded and sealed his letter.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan," he said, "you are to take this dispatch to theBastile and bring back here the person it concerns. You must take acarriage and an escort, and guard the prisoner with the greatest care."
D'Artagnan took the letter, touched his hat with his hand, turned roundupon his heel like a drill-sergeant, and a moment afterward was heard,in his dry and monotonous tone, commanding "Four men and an escort, acarriage and a horse." Five minutes afterward the wheels of the carriageand the horses' shoes were heard resounding on the pavement of thecourtyard.