Louise de la Valliere

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter LXIV. What Took Place at the Louvre During the Supper at theBastile.

  M. de Saint-Aignan had executed the commission with which the king hadintrusted him for La Valliere--as we have already seen in one of thepreceding chapters; but, whatever his eloquence, he did not succeed inpersuading the young girl that she had in the king a protector powerfulenough for her under any combination of circumstances, and that she hadno need of any one else in the world when the king was on her side. Inpoint of fact, at the very first word which the favorite mentionedof the discovery of the famous secret, Louise, in a passion of tears,abandoned herself in utter despair to a sorrow which would have been farfrom flattering for the king, if he had been a witness of it from one ofthe corners of the room. Saint-Aignan, in his character of ambassador,felt almost as greatly offended at it as his master himself would havebeen, and returned to inform the king what he had seen and heard; and itis thus we find him, in a state of great agitation, in the presence ofthe king, who was, if possible, in a state of even greater flurry thanhimself.

  "But," said the king to the courtier, when the latter had finished hisreport, "what did she decide to do? Shall I at least see her presentlybefore supper? Will she come to me, or shall I be obliged to go to herroom?"

  "I believe, sire, that if your majesty wishes to see her, you will notonly have to take the first step in advance, but will have to go thewhole way."

  "That I do not mind. Do you think she has yet a secret fancy for youngBragelonne?" muttered the king between his teeth.

  "Oh! sire, that is not possible; for it is you alone, I am convinced,Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves, and that, too, with all her heart.But you know that De Bragelonne belongs to that proud race who play thepart of Roman heroes."

  The king smiled feebly; he knew how true the illustration was, for Athoshad just left him.

  "As for Mademoiselle de la Valliere," Saint-Aignan continued, "she wasbrought up under the care of the Dowager Madame, that is to say, inthe greatest austerity and formality. This young engaged couple coldlyexchanged their little vows in the prim presence of the moon and stars;and now, when they find they have to break those vows asunder, it playsthe very deuce with them."

  Saint-Aignan thought to have made the king laugh; but on the contrary,from a mere smile Louis passed to the greatest seriousness of manner.He already began to experience that remorse which the comte had promisedD'Artagnan he would inflict upon him. He reflected that, in fact, theseyoung persons had loved and sworn fidelity to each other; that one ofthe two had kept his word, and that the other was too conscientiousnot to feel her perjury most bitterly. And his remorse was notunaccompanied; for bitter pangs of jealousy began to beset the king'sheart. He did not say another word, and instead of going to pay a visitto his mother, or the queen, or Madame, in order to amuse himself alittle, and make the ladies laugh, as he himself used to say, he threwhimself into the huge armchair in which his august father Louis XIII.had passed so many weary days and years in company with Barradat andCinq-Mars. Saint-Aignan perceived the king was not to be amused at thatmoment; he tried a last resource, and pronounced Louise's name, whichmade the king look up immediately. "What does your majesty intend todo this evening--shall Mademoiselle de la Valliere be informed of yourintention to see her?"

  "It seems she is already aware of that," replied the king. "No, no,Saint-Aignan," he continued, after a moment's pause, "we will both of uspass our time in thinking, and musing, and dreaming; when Mademoisellede la Valliere shall have sufficiently regretted what she now regrets,she will deign, perhaps, to give us some news of herself."

  "Ah! sire, is it possible you can so misunderstand her heart, which isso full of devotion?"

  The king rose, flushed from vexation and annoyance; he was a prey tojealousy as well as to remorse. Saint-Aignan was just beginning to feelthat his position was becoming awkward, when the curtain before the doorwas raised. The king turned hastily round; his first idea was that aletter from Louise had arrived; but, instead of a letter of love, heonly saw his captain of musketeers, standing upright, and perfectlysilent in the doorway. "M. d'Artagnan," he said, "ah! Well, monsieur?"

  D'Artagnan looked at Saint-Aignan; the king's eyes took the samedirection as those of his captain; these looks would have been clear toany one, and for a still greater reason they were so for Saint-Aignan.The courtier bowed and quitted the room, leaving the king and D'Artagnanalone.

  "Is it done?" inquired the king.

  "Yes, sire," replied the captain of the musketeers, in a grave voice,"it is done."

  The king was unable to say another word. Pride, however, obliged himnot to pause at what he had done; whenever a sovereign has adopted adecisive course, even though it be unjust, he is compelled to proveto all witnesses, and particularly to prove it to himself, that he wasquite right all through. A good means for effecting that--an almostinfallible means, indeed--is, to try and prove his victim to be in thewrong. Louis, brought up by Mazarin and Anne of Austria, knew betterthan any one else his vocation as a monarch; he therefore endeavored toprove it on the present occasion. After a few moment's pause, which hehad employed in making silently to himself the same reflections whichwe have just expressed aloud, he said, in an indifferent tone: "What didthe comte say?"

  "Nothing at all, sire."

  "Surely he did not allow himself to be arrested without sayingsomething?"

  "He said he expected to be arrested, sire."

  The king raised his head haughtily. "I presume," he said, "that M. leComte de la Fere has not continued to play his obstinate and rebelliouspart."

  "In the first place, sire, what do you wish to signify by _rebellious?_"quietly asked the musketeer. "A rebel, in the eyes of the king, is aman who not only allows himself to be shut up in the Bastile, but stillmore, who opposes those who do not wish to take him there."

  "Who do not wish to take him there!" exclaimed the king. "What do yousay, captain! Are you mad?"

  "I believe not, sire."

  "You speak of persons who did not wish to arrest M. de la Fere! Who arethose persons, may I ask?"

  "I should say those whom your majesty intrusted with that duty."

  "But it was you whom I intrusted with it," exclaimed the king.

  "Yes, sire; it was I."

  "And yet you say that, despite my orders, you had the intention of notarresting the man who had insulted me!"

  "Yes, sire--that was really my intention. I even proposed to the comteto mount a horse that I had prepared for him at the Barriere de laConference."

  "And what was your object in getting this horse ready?"

  "Why, sire, in order that M. le Comte de la Fere might be able to reachLe Havre, and from that place make his escape to England."

  "You betrayed me, then, monsieur?" cried the king, kindling with a wildpride.

  "Exactly so."

  There was nothing to say in answer to statements made in such a tone;the king was astounded at such an obstinate and open resistance on thepart of D'Artagnan. "At least you had a reason, Monsieur d'Artagnan, foracting as you did?" said the king, proudly.

  "I have always a reason for everything, sire."

  "Your reason cannot be your friendship for the comte, at allevents,--the only one that can be of any avail, the only one that couldpossibly excuse you,--for I placed you perfectly at your ease in thatrespect."

  "Me, sire?"

  "Did I not give you the choice to arrest, or not to arrest M. le Comtede la Fere?"

  "Yes, sire, but--"

  "But what?" exclaimed the king, impatiently.

  "But you warned me, sire, that if I did not arrest him, your captain ofthe guard should do so."

  "Was I not considerate enough towards you, from the very moment I didnot compel you to obey me?"

  "To me, sire, you were, but not to my friend, for my friend wouldbe arrested all the same, whether by myself or by the captain of theguards."

  "And this is your devotion, monsieur! a devotion which argues andreasons. You are
no soldier, monsieur!"

  "I wait for your majesty to tell me what I am."

  "Well, then--you are a Frondeur."

  "And since there is no longer any Fronde, sire, in that case--"

  "But if what you say is true--"

  "What I say is always true, sire."

  "What have you come to say to me, monsieur?"

  "I have come to say to your majesty, 'Sire, M. de la Fere is in theBastile.'"

  "That is not your fault, it would seem."

  "That is true, sire; but at all events he is there; and since he isthere, it is important that your majesty should know it."

  "Ah! Monsieur d'Artagnan, so you set your king at defiance."

  "Sire--"

  "Monsieur d'Artagnan! I warn you that you are abusing my patience."

  "On the contrary, sire."

  "What do you mean by 'on the contrary'?"

  "I have come to get myself arrested, too."

  "To get yourself arrested,--you!"

  "Of course. My friend will get wearied to death in the Bastile byhimself; and I have come to propose to your majesty to permit me to bearhim company; if your majesty will but give me the word, I will arrestmyself; I shall not need the captain of the guards for that, I assureyou."

  The king darted towards the table and seized hold of a pen to write theorder for D'Artagnan's imprisonment. "Pay attention, monsieur, that thisis forever," cried the king, in tones of sternest menace.

  "I can quite believe that," returned the musketeer; "for when you haveonce done such an act as that, you will never be able to look me in theface again."

  The king dashed down his pen violently. "Leave the room, monsieur!" hesaid.

  "Not so, if it please your majesty."

  "What is that you say?"

  "Sire, I came to speak gently and temperately to your majesty; yourmajesty got into a passion with me; that is a misfortune; but I shallnot the less on that account say what I had to say to you."

  "Your resignation, monsieur,--your resignation!" cried the king.

  "Sire, you know whether I care about my resignation or not, since atBlois, on the very day when you refused King Charles the million whichmy friend the Comte de la Fere gave him, I then tendered my resignationto your majesty."

  "Very well, monsieur--do it at once!"

  "No, sire; for there is no question of my resignation at the presentmoment. Your majesty took up your pen just now to send me to theBastile,--why should you change your intention?"

  "D'Artagnan! Gascon that you are! who is king, allow me to ask,--you ormyself?"

  "You, sire, unfortunately."

  "What do you mean by 'unfortunately'?"

  "Yes, sire; for if it were I--"

  "If it were you, you would approve of M. d'Artagnan's rebelliousconduct, I suppose?"

  "Certainly."

  "Really!" said the king, shrugging his shoulders.

  "And I should tell my captain of the musketeers," continued D'Artagnan,"I should tell him, looking at him all the while with human eyes, andnot with eyes like coals of fire, 'M. d'Artagnan, I had forgotten thatI was the king, for I descended from my throne in order to insult agentleman.'"

  "Monsieur," said the king, "do you think you can excuse your friend byexceeding him in insolence?"

  "Oh! sire! I should go much further than he did," said D'Artagnan; "andit would be your own fault. I should tell you what he, a man full ofthe finest sense of delicacy, did not tell you; I should say--'Sire,you have sacrificed his son, and he defended his son--you sacrificedhimself; he addressed you in the name of honor, of religion, ofvirtue--you repulsed, drove him away, imprisoned him.' I should beharder than he was, for I should say to you--'Sire; it is for youto choose. Do you wish to have friends or lackeys--soldiers orslaves--great men or mere puppets? Do you wish men to serve you, or tobend and crouch before you? Do you wish men to love you, or to be afraidof you? If you prefer baseness, intrigue, cowardice, say so at once,sire, and we will leave you,--we who are the only individuals who areleft,--nay, I will say more, the only models of the valor of formertimes; we who have done our duty, and have exceeded, perhaps, in courageand in merit, the men already great for posterity. Choose, sire! andthat, too, without delay. Whatever relics remain to you of the greatnobility, guard them with a jealous eye; you will never be deficient incourtiers. Delay not--and send me to the Bastile with my friend; for, ifyou did not know how to listen to the Comte de la Fere, whose voice isthe sweetest and noblest in all the world when honor is the theme; ifyou do not know how to listen to D'Artagnan, the frankest and honestestvoice of sincerity, you are a bad king, and to-morrow will be a poorking. And learn from me, sire, that bad kings are hated by their people,and poor kings are driven ignominiously away.' That is what I had to sayto you, sire; you were wrong to drive me to say it."

  The king threw himself back in his chair, cold as death, and as livid asa corpse. Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, he could not have beenmore astonished; he seemed as if his respiration had utterly ceased,and that he was at the point of death. The honest voice of sincerity,as D'Artagnan had called it, had pierced through his heart like asword-blade.

  D'Artagnan had said all he had to say. Comprehending the king's anger,he drew his sword, and, approaching Louis XIV. respectfully, he placedit on the table. But the king, with a furious gesture, thrust asidethe sword, which fell on the ground and rolled to D'Artagnan's feet.Notwithstanding the perfect mastery which D'Artagnan exercised overhimself, he, too, in his turn, became pale, and, trembling withindignation, said: "A king may disgrace a soldier,--he may exile him,and may even condemn him to death; but were he a hundred times a king,he has no right to insult him by casting a dishonor upon his sword!Sire, a king of France has never repulsed with contempt the sword ofa man such as I am! Stained with disgrace as this sword now is, it hashenceforth no other sheath than either your heart or my own! I choosemy own, sire; and you have to thank Heaven and my own patience that Ido so." Then snatching up his sword, he cried, "My blood be upon yourhead!" and, with a rapid gesture, he placed the hilt upon the floor anddirected the point of the blade towards his breast. The king, however,with a movement far more rapid than that of D'Artagnan, threw his rightarm around the musketeer's neck, and with his left hand seized holdof the blade by the middle, and returned it silently to the scabbard.D'Artagnan, upright, pale, and still trembling, let the king do all tothe very end. Louis, overcome and softened by gentler feelings, returnedto the table, took a pen in his hand, wrote a few lines, signed them,and then held it out to D'Artagnan.

  "What is this paper, sire?" inquired the captain.

  "An order for M. d'Artagnan to set the Comte de la Fere at libertyimmediately."

  D'Artagnan seized the king's hand, and imprinted a kiss upon it; he thenfolded the order, placed it in his belt, and quitted the room. Neitherthe king nor the captain had uttered a syllable.

  "Oh, human heart! thou guide and director of kings," murmured Louis,when alone, "when shall I learn to read in your inmost recesses, as inthe leaves of a book! Oh, I am not a bad king--nor am I a poor king; I ambut still a child, when all is said and done."