Ten Years Later

by Alexandre Dumas

  The French gentleman whom Spithead had announced to Monk, and who,closely wrapped in his cloak, had passed by the fishermen who left thegeneral's tent five minutes before he entered it,--the French gentlemanwent through the various posts without even casting his eyes around him,for fear of appearing indiscreet. As the order had been given, he wasconducted to the tent of the general. The gentleman was left alone inthe sort of ante-chamber in front of the principal body of the tent,where he awaited Monk, who only delayed till he had heard the reportof his people, and observed through the opening of the canvas thecountenance of the person who solicited an audience.

  Without doubt, the report of those who had accompanied the Frenchgentleman established the discretion with which he had behaved, for thefirst impression the stranger received of the welcome made him by thegeneral was more favorable than he could have expected at such a moment,and on the part of so suspicious a man. Nevertheless, according to hiscustom, when Monk found himself in the presence of a stranger, he fixedupon him his penetrating eyes, which scrutiny, the stranger, on hispart, sustained without embarrassment or notice. At the end of a fewseconds, the general made a gesture with his hand and head in sign ofattention.

  "My lord," said the gentleman, in excellent English. "I have requestedan interview with your honor, for an affair of importance."

  "Monsieur," replied Monk, in French, "you speak our language well for ason of the continent. I ask your pardon--for doubtless the question isindiscreet--do you speak French with the same purity?"

  "There is nothing surprising, my lord, in my speaking English tolerably;I resided for some time in England in my youth, and since then I havemade two voyages to this country." These words were spoken in French,and with a purity of accent that bespoke not only a Frenchman, but aFrenchman from the vicinity of Tours.

  "And what part of England have you resided in, monsieur?"

  "In my youth, London, my lord, then, about 1635, I made a pleasure tripto Scotland; and lastly, in 1648, I lived for some time at Newcastle,particularly in the convent, the gardens of which are now occupied byyour army."

  "Excuse me, monsieur, but you must comprehend that these questions arenecessary on my part--do you not?"

  "It would astonish me, my lord, if they were not asked."

  "Now, then, monsieur, what can I do to serve you? What do you wish?"

  "This, my lord;--but, in the first place, are we alone?"

  "Perfectly so, monsieur, except, of course, the post which guards us."So saying, Monk pulled open the canvas with his hand, and pointed to thesoldier placed at ten paces from the tent, and who, at the first callcould have rendered assistance in a second.

  "In that case my lord," said the gentleman, in as calm a tone as ifhe had been for a length of time in habits of intimacy with hisinterlocutor, "I have made up my mind to address myself to you, because Ibelieve you to be an honest man. Indeed, the communication I am about tomake to you will prove to you the esteem in which I hold you."

  Monk, astonished at this language, which established between him andthe French gentleman equality at least, raised his piercing eye to thestranger's face, and with a sensible irony conveyed by the inflectionof his voice alone, for not a muscle of his face moved,--"I thank you,monsieur," said he; "but, in the first place, to whom have I the honorof speaking?"

  "I sent you my name by your sergeant, my lord."

  "Excuse him, monsieur, he is a Scotchman,--he could not retain it."

  "I am called the Comte de la Fere, monsieur," said Athos, bowing.

  "The Comte de la Fere?" said Monk, endeavoring to recollect the name."Pardon me, monsieur, but this appears to be the first time I have everheard that name. Do you fill any post at the court of France?"

  "None; I am a simple gentleman."

  "What dignity?"

  "King Charles I. made me a knight of the Garter, and Queen Anne ofAustria has given me the cordon of the Holy Ghost. These are my onlydignities."

  "The Garter! the Holy Ghost! Are you a knight of those two orders,monsieur?"

  "Yes."

  "And on what occasions have such favors been bestowed upon you?"

  "For services rendered to their majesties."

  Monk looked with astonishment at this man, who appeared to him so simpleand so great at the same time. Then, as if he had renounced endeavoringto penetrate this mystery of a simplicity and grandeur upon which thestranger did not seem disposed to give him any other information thanthat which he had already received,--"Did you present yourself yesterdayat our advanced posts?"

  "And was sent back? Yes, my lord."

  "Many officers, monsieur, would permit no one to enter their camp,particularly on the eve of a probable battle. But I differ from mycolleagues, and like to leave nothing behind me. Every advice is good tome; all danger is sent to me by God, and I weigh it in my hand withthe energy He has given me. So, yesterday, you were only sent back onaccount of the council I was holding. To-day I am at liberty,--speak."

  "My lord, you have done much better in receiving me, for what I haveto say has nothing to do with the battle you are about to fight withGeneral Lambert, or with your camp; and the proof is, that I turned awaymy head that I might not see your men, and closed my eyes that I mightnot count your tents. No, I come to speak to you, my lord, on my ownaccount."

  "Speak, then, monsieur," said Monk.

  "Just now," continued Athos, "I had the honor of telling your lordshipthat for a long time I lived in Newcastle; it was in the time of CharlesI., and when the king was given up to Cromwell by the Scots."

  "I know," said Monk, coldly.

  "I had at that time a large sum in gold, and on the eve of the battle,from a presentiment perhaps of the turn which things would take onthe morrow, I concealed it in the principal vault of the conventof Newcastle, in the tower whose summit you now see silvered by themoonbeams. My treasure has then remained interred there, and I have cometo entreat your honor to permit me to withdraw it before, perhaps, thebattle turning that way, a mine or some other war engine has destroyedthe building and scattered my gold, or rendered it so apparent that thesoldiers will take possession of it."

  Monk was well acquainted with mankind, he saw in the physiognomy ofthis gentleman all the energy, all the reason, all the circumspectionpossible, he could therefore only attribute to a magnanimous confidencethe revelation the Frenchman had made him, and he showed himselfprofoundly touched by it.

  "Monsieur," said he, "you have augured well of me. But is the sum worththe trouble to which you expose yourself? Do you even believe that itcan be in the place where you left it?"

  "It is there, monsieur, I do not doubt."

  "That is a reply to one question; but to the other. I asked you if thesum was so large as to warrant your exposing yourself thus."

  "It is really large; yes, my lord, for it is a million I inclosed in twobarrels."

  "A million!" cried Monk, at whom this time, in turn, Athos lookedearnestly and long. Monk perceived this, and his mistrust returned.

  "Here is a man," said he, "who is laying a snare for me. So you wish towithdraw this money, monsieur," replied he, "as I understand?"

  "If you please, my lord."

  "To-day?"

  "This very evening, and that on account of the circumstances I havenamed."

  "But, monsieur," objected Monk, "General Lambert is as near the abbeywhere you have to act as I am. Why, then, have you not addressedyourself to him?"

  "Because, my lord, when one acts in important matters, it is best toconsult one's instinct before everything. Well, General Lambert does notinspire me with so much confidence as you do."

  "Be it so, monsieur. I shall assist you in recovering your money, if,however, it can still be there; for that is far from likely. Since 1648twelve years have rolled away, and many events have taken place." Monkdwelt upon this point to see if the French gentleman would seize theevasions that were open to him, but Athos did not hesitate.

  "I assure you, my lord," he said firmly, "tha
t my conviction is, thatthe two barrels have neither changed place nor master." This replyhad removed one suspicion from the mind of Monk, but it had suggestedanother. Without doubt this Frenchman was some emissary sent to enticeinto error the protector of the parliament; the gold was nothing but alure; and by the help of this lure they thought to excite the cupidityof the general. This gold might not exist. It was Monk's business, then,to seize the Frenchman in the act of falsehood and trick, and to drawfrom the false step itself in which his enemies wished to entrap him, atriumph for his renown. When Monk was determined how to act,--

  "Monsieur," said he to Athos, "without doubt you will do me the honor toshare my supper this evening?"

  "Yes, my lord," replied Athos, bowing, "for you do me an honor of whichI feel myself worthy, by the inclination which drew me towards you."

  "It is so much the more gracious on your part to accept my invitationwith such frankness, as my cooks are but few and inexperienced, and myproviders have returned this evening empty-handed; so that if it had notbeen for a fisherman of your nation who strayed into our camp, GeneralMonk would have gone to bed without his supper to-day; I have, then,some fresh fish to offer you, as the vendor assures me."

  "My lord, it is principally for the sake of having the honor to passanother hour with you."

  After this exchange of civilities, during which Monk had lost nothing ofhis circumspection, the supper, or what was to serve for one, had beenlaid upon a deal table. Monk invited the Comte de la Fere to be seatedat this table, and took his place opposite to him. A single dish ofboiled fish, set before the two illustrious guests, was more tempting tohungry stomachs than to delicate palates.

  Whilst supping, that is, while eating the fish, washed down with badale, Monk got Athos to relate to him the last events of the Fronde, thereconciliation of M. de Conde with the king, and the probable marriageof the infanta of Spain; but he avoided, as Athos himself avoided it,all allusion to the political interests which united, or rather whichdisunited at this time, England, France and Holland.

  Monk, in this conversation, convinced himself of one thing, which hemust have remarked after the first words exchanged: that was, that hehad to deal with a man of high distinction. He could not be an assassin,and it was repugnant to Monk to believe him to be a spy, but there wassufficient finesse and at the same time firmness in Athos to lead Monkto fancy he was a conspirator. When they had quitted table, "You stillbelieve in your treasure, then, monsieur?" asked Monk.

  "Yes, my lord."

  "Quite seriously?"

  "Seriously."

  "And you think you can find the place again where it was buried?"

  "At the first inspection."

  "Well, monsieur, from curiosity I shall accompany you. And it is somuch the more necessary that I should accompany you, that you would findgreat difficulties in passing through the camp without me or one of mylieutenants."

  "General, I would not suffer you to inconvenience yourself if I did not,in fact, stand in need of your company; but as I recognize that thiscompany is not only honorable, but necessary, I accept it."

  "Do you desire we should take any people with us?" asked Monk.

  "General, I believe that would be useless, if you yourself do not seethe necessity for it. Two men and a horse will suffice to transport thetwo casks on board the felucca which brought me hither."

  "But it will be necessary to pick, dig and remove the earth, and splitstones; you don't intend doing this work yourself, monsieur, do you?"

  "General, there is no picking or digging required. The treasure isburied in the sepulchral vault of the convent, under a stone in which isfixed a large iron ring and under which are four steps leading down. Thetwo casks are there, placed end to end, covered with a coat of plasterin the form of a bier. There is, besides, an inscription, which willenable me to recognize the stone; and as I am not willing, in an affairof delicacy and confidence, to keep the secret from your honor, here isthe inscription:--'Hic jacet venerabilis, Petrus Gulielmus Scott, CanonHonorab. Conventus Novi Castelli. Obiit quarta et decima. Feb. ann. Dom.MCCVIII. Requiescat in pace.'"

  Monk did not lose a single word.--He was astonished either at themarvelous duplicity of this man and the superior style in which heplayed his part, or at the good loyal faith with which he presented hisrequest, in a situation in which concerning a million of money, riskedagainst the blow from a dagger, amidst an army that would have lookedupon the theft as a restitution.

  "Very well," said he; "I shall accompany you; and the adventure appearsto me so wonderful, that I shall carry the torch myself." And sayingthese words, he girded on a short sword, placed a pistol in his belt,disclosing in this movement, which opened his doublet a little, thefine rings of a coat of mail, destined to protect him from the firstdagger-thrust of an assassin. After which he took a Scotch dirk in hisleft hand, and then turning to Athos, "Are you ready, monsieur?" saidhe.

  "I am."

  Athos, as if in opposition to what Monk had done, unfastened hisponiard, which he placed upon the table; unhooked his sword-belt, whichhe laid close to his poniard; and, without affectation, opening hisdoublet as if to look for his handkerchief, showed beneath his finecambric shirt his naked breast, without weapons either offensive ordefensive.

  "This is truly a singular man," said Monk; "he is without any arms; hehas an ambuscade placed somewhere yonder."

  "General," said he, as if he had divined Monk's thought, "you wish weshould be alone; that is very right, but a great captain ought never toexpose himself with temerity. It is night, the passage of the marsh maypresent dangers; be accompanied."

  "You are right," replied he, calling Digby. The aid-de-camp appeared."Fifty men with swords and muskets," said he, looking at Athos.

  "That is too few if there is danger, too many if there is not."

  "I will go alone," said Monk; "I want nobody. Come, monsieur."

  CHAPTER 25. The March