CHAPTER XLVII.
TWO OLD FRIENDS.
While every one at court was busily engaged upon his own affairs, a manmysteriously took up his post behind the Place de Greve, in the housewhich we once saw besieged by D'Artagnan on the occasion of an _emeute_.The principal entrance of this house was in the Place Baudoyer: it wastolerably large, surrounded by gardens, inclosed in the streetSaint-Jean by the shops of tool-makers, which protected it from pryinglooks, and was walled in by a triple rampart of stone, noise, andverdure, like an embalmed mummy in its triple coffin. The man we havejust alluded to walked along with a firm step, although he was no longerin his early prime. His dark cloak and long sword plainly revealed onewho seemed in search of adventures; and, judging from his curlingmustaches, his fine and smooth skin, which could be seen beneath hissombrero, it would not have been difficult to pronounce that thegallantry of his adventures was unquestionable. In fact, hardly had thecavalier entered the house, when the clock struck eight; and ten minutesafterward a lady, followed by a servant armed to the teeth, approachedand knocked at the same door, which an old woman immediately opened forher. The lady raised her veil as she entered; though no longer beautifulor young, she was still active, and of an imposing carriage. Sheconcealed, beneath a rich toilet and the most exquisite taste, an agewhich Ninon de l'Enclos alone could have smiled at with impunity. Hardlyhad she reached the vestibule, than the cavalier, whose features we haveonly roughly sketched, advanced toward her, holding out his hand.
"Good day, my dear duchesse," he said.
"How do you do, my dear Aramis," replied the duchesse.
He led her to a most elegantly furnished apartment, on whose highwindows were reflected the expiring rays of the setting sun, whichfiltered through the dark crests of some adjoining firs. They sat downside by side. Neither of them thought of asking for additional light inthe room, and they buried themselves as it were in the shadow, as ifthey wished to bury themselves in forgetfulness.
"Chevalier," said the duchesse, "you have never given me a single signof life since our interview at Fontainebleau, and I confess that yourpresence there on the day of the Franciscan's death, and your initiationin certain secrets, caused me the liveliest astonishment I everexperienced in my whole life."
"I can explain my presence there to you, as well as my initiation," saidAramis.
"But let us first of all," said the duchesse, "talk a little ofourselves, for our friendship is by no means of recent date."
"Yes, madame; and if Heaven wills it, we shall continue to be friends, Iwill not say for a long time, but forever."
"That is quite certain, chevalier, and my visit is proof of it."
"Our interests, duchesse, are no longer the same as they used to be,"said Aramis, smiling without apprehension in the gloom in which the roomwas cast, for it could not reveal that his smile was less agreeable andless bright than formerly.
"No, chevalier, at the present day we have other interests. Every periodof life brings its own; and as we now understand each other inconversing, as perfectly as we formerly did without saying a word, letus talk, if you like."
"I am at your orders, duchesse. Ah! I beg your pardon, how did youobtain my address, and what was your object?"
"You ask me why? I have told you. Curiosity in the first place. I wishedto know what you could have to do with the Franciscan, with whom I hadcertain business transactions, and who died so singularly. You know thaton the occasion of our interview at Fontainebleau, in the cemetery, atthe foot of the grave so recently closed, we were both so much overcomeby our emotions that we omitted to confide to each other what we mayhave had to say."
"Yes, madame."
"Well, then, I had no sooner left you than I repented, and have eversince been most anxious to ascertain the truth. You know that Madame deLongueville and myself are almost one, I suppose?"
"I am not aware," said Aramis, discreetly.
"I remembered, therefore," continued, the duchesse, "that neither of ussaid anything to the other in the cemetery; that you did not speak ofthe relationship in which you stood to the Franciscan, whose burial youhad superintended, and that I did not refer to the position in which Istood to him; all which seemed very unworthy of two such old friends asourselves, and I have sought an opportunity of an interview with you inorder to give you some information that I have recently acquired, and toassure you that Marie Michon, now no more, has left behind her one whohas preserved her recollection of events."
Aramis bowed over the duchesse's hand, and pressed his lips upon it."You must have had some trouble to find me again," he said.
"Yes," she answered, annoyed to find the subject taking a turn whichAramis wished to give it: "but I knew you were a friend of M. Fouquet's,and so I inquired in that direction."
"A friend! oh!" exclaimed the chevalier, "I can hardly pretend to bethat. A poor priest who has been favored by so generous a protector, andwhose heart is full of gratitude and devotion to him, is all that Ipretend to be to M. Fouquet."
"He made you a bishop?"
"Yes, duchesse."
"A very good retiring pension for so handsome a musketeer."
"Yes; in the same way that political intrigue is for yourself," thoughtAramis. "And so," he added, "you inquired after me at M. Fouquet's."
"Easily enough. You had been to Fontainebleau with him, and hadundertaken a voyage to your diocese, which is Belle-Isle-en-Mer, Ibelieve."
"No, madame," said Aramis. "My diocese is Vannes."
"I mean that. I only thought that Belle-Isle-en-Mer--"
"Is a property belonging to M. Fouquet, nothing more."
"Ah: I had been told that Belle-Isle was fortified; besides, I know howgreat the military knowledge is you possess."
"I have forgotten everything of the kind since I entered the Church,"said Aramis, annoyed.
"Suffice it to know that I learned you had returned from Vannes, and Isent to one of our friends, M. le Comte de la Fere, who is discretionitself, in order to ascertain it, but he answered that he was not awareof your address."
"So like Athos," thought the bishop; "that which is actually good neveralters."
"Well, then, you know that I cannot venture to show myself here, andthat the queen-mother has always some grievance or other against me."
"Yes, indeed, and I am surprised at it."
"Oh! there are various reasons for it. But, to continue, being obligedto conceal myself, I was fortunate enough to meet with M. d'Artagnan,who was formerly one of your old friends, I believe?"
"A friend of mine still, duchesse."
"He gave me some information, and sent me to M. Baisemeaux, the governorof the Bastille."
Aramis was somewhat agitated at this remark, and a light flashed fromhis eyes in the darkness of the room, which he could not conceal fromhis keen-sighted friend. "M. de Baisemeaux!" he said; "why didD'Artagnan send you to M. de Baisemeaux?"
"I cannot tell you."
"What can this possibly mean?" said the bishop, summoning all theresources of his mind to his aid, in order to carry on the combat in abefitting manner.
"M. de Baisemeaux is greatly indebted to you, D'Artagnan told me."
"True, he is so."
"And the address of a creditor is as easily ascertained as that of adebtor."
"Very true; and so Baisemeaux indicated to you--"
"Saint-Mande, where I forwarded a letter to you."
"Which I have in my hand, and which is most precious to me," saidAramis, "because I am indebted to it for the pleasure of seeing youhere." The duchesse, satisfied at having successfully alluded to thevarious difficulties of so delicate an explanation, began to breathefreely again, which Aramis, however, could not succeed in doing. "We hadgot as far as your visit to M. Baisemeaux, I believe?"
"Nay," she said, laughing, "farther than that."
"In that case we must have been speaking about the grudge you haveagainst the queen-mother."
"Further still," she returned--"further still; we w
ere talking of theconnection--"
"Which existed between you and the Franciscan," said Aramis,interrupting her eagerly; "well, I am listening to you veryattentively."
"It is easily explained," returned the duchesse. "You know that I amliving at Brussels with M. de Laicques?"
"I have heard so."
"You know that my children have ruined and stripped me of everything."
"How terrible, dear duchesse."
"Terrible indeed; this obliged me to resort to some means of obtaining alivelihood, and, particularly to avoid vegetating the remainder of myexistence away, I had old hatreds to turn to account, old friendships toserve; I no longer had either credit or protectors."
"You, too, who had extended protection toward so many persons," saidAramis, softly.
"It is always the case, chevalier. Well, at the present time I am in thehabit of seeing the king of Spain very frequently."
"Ah!"
"Who has just nominated a general of the Jesuits, according to the usualcustom."
"Is it usual, indeed?"
"Were you not aware of it?"
"I beg your pardon; I was inattentive."
"You must be aware of that--you who were on such good terms with theFranciscan."
"With the general of the Jesuits, you mean?"
"Exactly. Well, then, I have seen the king of Spain, who wished to do mea service, but was unable. He gave me recommendations, however, toFlanders, both for myself and for Laicques too; and conferred a pensionon me out of the funds belonging to the order."
"Of Jesuits?"
"Yes. The general--I mean the Franciscan--was sent to me; and, for thepurpose of conforming with the requisitions of the statutes of theorder, and of entitling me to the pension, I was reputed to be in aposition to render certain services. You are aware that that is therule?"
"No, I did not know it," said Aramis.
Madame de Chevreuse paused to look at Aramis, but it was perfectly dark."Well, such is the rule, however," she resumed. "I ought, therefore, toseem to possess a power of usefulness of some kind or other. I proposedto travel for the order, and I was placed on the list of affiliatedtravelers. You understand it was a formality, by means of which Ireceived my pension, which was very convenient for me."
"Good heavens! duchesse, what you tell me is like a dagger-thrust intome. _You_ obliged to receive a pension from the Jesuits?"
"No, chevalier; from Spain."
"Except as a conscientious scruple, duchesse, you will admit that it ispretty nearly the same thing."
"No, not at all."
"But, surely, of your magnificent fortune there must remain--"
"Dampierre is all that remains."
"And that is handsome enough."
"Yes; but Dampierre is burdened, mortgaged, and almost fallen to ruin,like its owner."
"And can the queen-mother know and see all that, without shedding atear?" said Aramis, with a penetrating look, which encountered nothingbut the darkness.
"Yes, she has forgotten everything."
"You have, I believe, attempted to get restored to favor?"
"Yes; but, most singularly, the young king inherits the antipathy thathis dear father had for me. You will, too, tell me that I am indeed awoman to be hated, and that I am no longer one who can be loved."
"Dear duchesse, pray arrive soon at the circumstance which brought youhere; for I think we can be of service to each other."
"Such has been my own thought. I came to Fontainebleau with a doubleobject in view. In the first place, I was summoned there by theFranciscan whom you knew. By-the-by, how did you know him?--for I havetold you my story, and have not yet heard yours."
"I knew him in a very natural way, duchesse. I studied theology with himat Parma. We became fast friends; and it happened, from time to time,that business, or travels, or war, separated us from each other."
"You were, of course, aware that he was the general of the Jesuits?"
"I suspected it."
"But by what extraordinary chance did it happen that you were at thehotel where the affiliated travelers had met together?"
"Oh!" said Aramis, in a calm voice, "it was the merest chance in theworld. I was going to Fontainebleau to see M. Fouquet, for the purposeof obtaining an audience of the king. I was passing by, unknown; I sawthe poor dying monk in the road, and recognized him immediately. Youknow the rest--he died in my arms."
"Yes; but bequeathing to you so vast a power, that you issue yoursovereign orders and directions like a monarch."
"He certainly did leave me a few commissions to settle."
"And for me?"
"I have told you--a sum of twelve thousand livres was to be paid to you.I thought I had given you the necessary signature to enable you toreceive it. Did you not get the money?"
"Oh! yes, yes. You give your orders, I am informed, with so muchmystery, and such a majestic presence, that it is generally believed youare the successor of the defunct chief."
Aramis colored impatiently, and the duchesse continued: "I have obtainedmy information," she said, "from the king of Spain himself; and hecleared up some of my doubts on the point. Every general of the Jesuitsis nominated by him, and must be a Spaniard, according to the statutesof the order. You are not a Spaniard, nor have you been nominated bythe king of Spain."
Aramis did not reply to this remark, except to say, "You see, duchesse,how greatly you were mistaken, since the king of Spain told you that."
"Yes, my dear Aramis; but there was something else which I have beenthinking of."
"What is that?"
"You know, I believe, something about most things; and it occurred to methat you know the Spanish language."
"Every Frenchman who has been actively engaged in the Fronde knowsSpanish."
"You have lived in Flanders?"
"Three years."
"And have stayed at Madrid?"
"Fifteen months."
"You are in a position, then, to become a naturalized Spaniard, when youlike."
"Really?" said Aramis, with a frankness which deceived the duchesse.
"Undoubtedly. Two years' residence and an acquaintance with the languageare indispensable. You have upward of four years--more than double thetime necessary."
"What are you driving at, duchesse?"
"At this--I am on good terms with the king of Spain."
"And I am not on bad terms," thought Aramis to himself.
"Shall I ask the king," continued the duchesse, "to confer thesuccession to the Franciscan's post upon you?"
"Oh, duchesse!"
"You have it already, perhaps?" she said.
"No, upon my honor."
"Very well, then, I can render you that service."
"Why did you not render the same service to M. de Laicques, duchesse? Heis a very talented man, and one you love, besides."
"Yes, no doubt; but, at all events, putting Laicques aside, will youhave it?"
"No, I thank you, duchesse."
She paused. "He is nominated," she thought; and then resumed aloud, "Ifyou refuse me in this manner, it is not very encouraging for me,supposing I should have something to ask of you."
"Oh! ask, pray ask."
"Ask! I cannot do so, if you have not the power to grant what I want."
"However limited my power and ability, ask all the same."
"I need a sum of money to restore Dampierre."
"Ah!" replied Aramis, coldly--"money? Well, duchesse, how much would yourequire?"
"Oh! a tolerably round sum."
"So much the worse--you know I am not rich."
"No, no; but the order is--and if you had been the general--"
"You know I am not the general, I think."
"In that case, you have a friend who must be very wealthy--M. Fouquet."
"Fouquet! He is more than half ruined, madame."
"So it is said, but I would not believe it."
"Why, duchesse?"
"Because I have, or rather Laicques has
, certain letters in hispossession, from Cardinal Mazarin, which establish the existence of verystrange accounts."
"What accounts?"
"Relative to various sums of money borrowed and disposed of. I cannotvery distinctly remember what they are; but they establish the fact thatthe surintendant, according to these letters, which are signed byMazarin, had taken thirty millions of francs from the coffers of thestate. The case is a very serious one."
Aramis clenched his hands in anxiety and apprehension. "Is it possible,"he said, "that you have such letters as you speak of, and have notcommunicated them to M. Fouquet?"
"Ah!" replied the duchesse, "I keep such little matters as these inreserve. The day may come when they may be of service; and they can thenbe withdrawn from the safe custody in which they now are."
"And that day has arrived?" said Aramis.
"Yes."
"And you are going to show those letters to M. Fouquet?"
"I prefer to talk about them with you, instead."
"You must be in sad want of money, my poor friend, to think of suchthings as these--you, too, who held M. de Mazarin's prose effusions insuch indifferent esteem."
"The fact is, I am in want of money."
"And then," continued Aramis, in cold accents, "it must have been verydistressing to you to be obliged to have recourse to such a means. It iscruel."
"Oh! if I had wished to do harm instead of good," said Madame deChevreuse, "instead of asking the general of the order, or M. Fouquet,for the five hundred thousand francs I require--"
"Five hundred thousand francs!"
"Yes; no more. Do you think it much? I require at least as much as thatto restore Dampierre."
"Yes, madame."
"I say, therefore, that instead of asking for this amount, I should havegone to see my old friend the queen-mother; the letters from herhusband, the Signor Mazarin, would have served me as an introduction,and I should have begged this mere trifle of her, saying to her, 'Iwish, madame, to have the honor of receiving you at Dampierre. Permit meto put Dampierre in a fit state for that purpose.'"
Aramis did not reply a single word. "Well," she said, "what are youthinking about?"
"I am making certain additions," said Aramis.
"And M. Fouquet subtractions. I, on the other hand, am trying the art ofmultiplication. What excellent calculators we are! How well we couldunderstand one another!"
"Will you allow me to reflect?" said Aramis.
"No, for with such an opening between people like ourselves, 'yes,' or'no,' is the only answer, and that an immediate one."
"It is a snare," thought the bishop; "it is impossible that Anne ofAustria could listen to such a woman as this."
"Well!" said the duchesse.
"Well, madame, I should be very much astonished if M. Fouquet had fivehundred thousand francs at his disposal at the present moment."
"It is no use speaking of it, then," said the duchesse, "and Dampierremust get restored how it can."
"Oh! you are not embarrassed to such an extent as that, I suppose."
"No; I am never embarrassed."
"And the queen," continued the bishop, "will certainly do for you whatthe surintendant is unable to do."
"Oh! certainly. But tell me, do you not think it would be better that Ishould speak, myself, to M. Fouquet about these letters?"
"Nay, duchesse, you will do precisely whatever you please in thatrespect. M. Fouquet either feels, or does not feel himself to be guilty;if he really be so, I know he is proud enough not to confess it; if hebe not so, he will be exceedingly offended at your menace."
"As usual, you reason like an angel," said the duchesse, as she rosefrom her seat.
"And so, you are now going to denounce M. Fouquet to the queen," saidAramis.
"'Denounce!' Oh! what a disagreeable word. I shall not 'denounce,' mydear friend; you now know matters of policy too well to be ignorant howeasily these affairs are arranged, I shall merely side against M.Fouquet, and nothing more; and, in a war of party against party, aweapon of attack is always a weapon."
"No doubt."
"And once on friendly terms again with the queen-mother, I may bedangerous toward some persons."
"You are at perfect liberty to be so, duchesse."
"A liberty of which I shall avail myself."
"You are not ignorant, I suppose, duchesse, that M. Fouquet is on thebest terms with the king of Spain."
"I suppose so."
"If, therefore, you begin a party warfare against M. Fouquet, he willreply in the same way; for he, too, is at perfect liberty to do so, ishe not?"
"Oh! certainly."
"And as he is on good terms with Spain, he will make use of thatfriendship as a weapon of attack."
"You mean, that he will be on good terms with the general of the orderof the Jesuits, my dear Aramis."
"That may be the case, duchesse."
"And that, consequently, the pension I have been receiving from theorder will be stopped."
"I am greatly afraid it might be."
"Well; I must contrive to console myself in the best way I can; forafter Richelieu, after the Frondes, after exile, what is there left forMadame de Chevreuse to be afraid of?"
"The pension, you are aware, is forty-eight thousand francs."
"Alas! I am quite aware of it."
"Moreover, in party contests, you know, the friends of the enemy do notescape."
"Ah! you mean that poor Laicques will have to suffer."
"I am afraid it is almost inevitable, duchesse."
"Oh! he only receives twelve thousand francs pension."
"Yes, but the king of Spain has some influence left; advised by M.Fouquet he might get M. Laicques shut up in prison for a little while."
"I am not very nervous on that point, my dear friend; because, thanks toa reconciliation with Anne of Austria, I will undertake that Franceshould insist upon M. Laicques' liberation."
"True. In that case, you will have something else to apprehend."
"What can that be?" said the duchesse, pretending to be surprised andterrified.
"You will learn; indeed, you must know it already, that having once beenan affiliated member of the order, it is not easy to leave it; for thesecrets that any particular member may have acquired are unwholesome,and carry with them the germs of misfortune for whoever may revealthem."
The duchesse paused and reflected for a moment, and then said, "That ismore serious, I will think over it."
And, notwithstanding the profound obscurity, Aramis seemed to feel aburning glance, like a hot iron, escape from his friend's eyes, andplunge into his heart.
"Let us recapitulate," said Aramis, determined to keep himself on hisguard, and gliding his hand into his breast, where he had a daggerconcealed.
"Exactly, let us recapitulate; good accounts make good friends."
"The suppression of your pension--"
"Forty-eight thousand francs, and that of Laicques twelve, make,together, sixty thousand francs; that is what you mean, I suppose?"
"Precisely; and I was trying to find out what would be your equivalentfor that."
"Five hundred thousand francs, which I shall get from the queen."
"Or which you will not get."
"I know a means of procuring them," said the duchesse, thoughtlessly.
This remark made the chevalier prick up his ears; and from the momenthis adversary had committed this error, his mind was so thoroughly onits guard that he seemed every moment to gain the advantage more andmore; and she, consequently, to lose it. "I will admit, for argument'ssake, that you obtain the money," he resumed; "you will lose the doubleof it, having a hundred thousand francs' pension to receive instead ofsixty thousand, and that for a period of ten years."
"Not so, for I shall only be subjected to this reduction of my incomeduring the period of M. Fouquet's remaining in power, a period which Iestimate at two months."
"Ah!" said Aramis.
"I am frank, you see."
<
br /> "I thank you for it, duchesse; but you would be wrong to suppose thatafter M. Fouquet's disgrace the order would resume the payment of yourpension."
"I know a means of making the order pay, as I know a means of forcingthe queen-mother to concede what I require."
"In that case, duchesse, we are all obliged to strike our flags to you.The victory is yours, and the triumph also is yours. Be clement, Ientreat you."
"But is it possible," resumed the duchesse, without taking notice of theirony, "that you really draw back from a miserable sum of five hundredthousand francs when it is a question of sparing you--I mean yourfriend--I beg your pardon, I ought rather to say your protector--thedisagreeable consequences which a party contest produces?"
"Duchesse, I will tell you why; supposing the five hundred thousandfrancs were to be given you, M. Laicques will require his share, whichwill be another five hundred thousand francs, I presume? and then, afterM. de Laicques, and your own portions have been arranged, the portionswhich your children, your poor pensioners, and various other personswill require, will start up as fresh claims; and these letters, howevercompromising they may be in their nature, are not worth from three tofour millions. Can you have forgotten the queen of France'sdiamonds?--they were surely worth more than these bits of waste-papersigned by Mazarin, and yet their recovery did not cost a fourth part ofwhat you ask for yourself."
"Yes, that is true; but the merchant values his goods at his own price,and it is for the purchaser to buy or refuse."
"Stay a moment, duchesse; would you like me to tell you why I will notbuy your letters?"
"Pray tell me."
"Because the letters you say are Mazarin's are false."
"What an absurdity!"
"I have no doubt of it, for it would, to say the least, be verysingular, that after you had quarreled with the queen through M.Mazarin's means, you should have kept up any intimate acquaintance withthe latter; it would look as if you had been acting as a spy; and uponmy word, I do not like to make use of the word."
"Oh! pray say it."
"Your great complaisance would seem very suspicious, at all events."
"That is quite true; but what is not less so is that which the lettercontains."
"I pledge you my word, duchesse, that you will not be able to make useof it with the queen."
"Oh! yes, indeed: I can make use of everything with the queen."
"Very good," thought Aramis. "Croak on, old owl--hiss, viper that youare!"
But the duchesse had said enough, and advanced a few steps toward thedoor. Aramis, however, had reserved an exposure which she did notexpect--the imprecation of the slave behind the car of the conqueror. Herang the bell, candles immediately appeared in the adjoining room, andthe bishop found himself completely encircled by lights, which shoneupon the worn, haggard face of the duchesse, revealing every feature buttoo clearly. Aramis fixed a long and ironical look upon her pale, thin,withered cheeks--upon her dim, dull eyes--and upon her lips, which shekept carefully closed over her blackened and scanty teeth. He, however,had thrown himself into a graceful attitude, with his haughty andintelligent head thrown back; he smiled so as to reveal his teeth, whichwere still brilliant and dazzling. The old coquette understood the trickthat had been played her. She was standing immediately before a largemirror, in which her decrepitude, so carefully concealed, was only mademore manifest. And, thereupon, without even saluting Aramis, who bowedwith the ease and grace of the musketeer of early days, she hurried awaywith trembling steps, which her very precipitation only the moreimpeded. Aramis sprang across the room like a zephyr to lead her to thedoor. Madame de Chevreuse made a sign to her servant, who resumed hismusket, and she left the house where such tender friends had not beenable to understand each other, only because they had understood eachother too well.
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