“Really?”
“It is as I have the honor of telling it to your excellency.”
“Tell me a little about it, my dear Monsieur de Rochefort.”
“That is somewhat difficult, my lord,” said Rochefort, with a smile.
“Then he will tell it me himself.”
“I doubt it, my lord.”
“Why do you doubt it?”
“Because the secret does not belong to him; because, as I have told you, it has to do with a great queen.”
“And he was alone in achieving an enterprise like that?”
“No, my lord, he had three colleagues, three brave men, men such as you were wishing for just now.”
“And were these four men attached to each other, true in heart, really united?”
“As if they had been one man—as if their four hearts had pulsated in one breast.”
“You pique my curiosity, dear Rochefort; pray tell me the whole story.”
“That is impossible; but I will tell you a true story, my lord.”
“Pray do so, I delight in stories,” cried the cardinal.
“Listen, then,” returned Rochefort, as he spoke endeavoring to read in that subtle countenance the cardinal’s motive. “Once upon a time there lived a queen—a powerful monarch—who reigned over one of the greatest kingdoms of the universe; and a minister; and this minister wished much to injure the queen, whom once he had loved too well. (Do not try, my lord, you cannot guess who it is; all this happened long before you came into the country where this queen reigned.) There came to the court an ambassador so brave, so magnificent, so elegant, that every woman lost her heart to him; and the queen had even the indiscretion to give him certain ornaments so rare that they could never be replaced by any like them.
“As these ornaments were given by the king the minister persuaded his majesty to insist upon the queen’s appearing in them as part of her jewels at a ball which was soon to take place. There is no occasion to tell you, my lord, that the minister knew for a fact that these ornaments had sailed away with the ambassador, who was far away, beyond seas. This illustrious queen had fallen low as the least of her subjects—fallen from her high estate.”
“Indeed!”
“Well, my lord, four men resolved to save her. These four men were not princes, neither were they dukes, neither were they men in power; they were not even rich. They were four honest soldiers, each with a good heart, a good arm and a sword at the service of those who wanted it. They set out. The minister knew of their departure and had planted people on the road to prevent them ever reaching their destination. Three of them were overwhelmed and disabled by numerous assailants; one of them alone arrived at the port, having either killed or wounded those who wished to stop him. He crossed the sea and brought back the set of ornaments to the great queen, who was able to wear them on her shoulder on the appointed day; and this very nearly ruined the minister. What do you think of that exploit, my lord?”
“It is magnificent!” said Mazarin, thoughtfully.
“Well, I know of ten such men.”
Mazarin made no reply; he reflected.
Five or six minutes elapsed.
“You have nothing more to ask of me, my lord?” said Rochefort.
“Yes. And you say that Monsieur d’Artagnan was one of those four men?”
“He led the enterprise.”
“And who were the others?”
“I leave it to Monsieur d’Artagnan to name them, my lord. They were his friends and not mine. He alone would have any influence with them; I do not even know them under their true names.”
“You suspect me, Monsieur de Rochefort; I want him and you and all to aid me.”
“Begin with me, my lord; for after five or six years of imprisonment it is natural to feel some curiosity as to one’s destination.”
“You, my dear Monsieur de Rochefort, shall have the post of confidence; you shall go to Vincennes, where Monsieur de Beaufort is confined; you will guard him well for me. Well, what is the matter?”
“The matter is that you have proposed to me what is impossible,” said Rochefort, shaking his head with an air of disappointment.
“What! impossible? And why is it impossible?”
“Because Monsieur de Beaufort is one of my friends, or rather, I am one of his. Have you forgotten, my lord, that it is he who answered for me to the queen?”
“Since then Monsieur de Beaufort has become an enemy of the State.”
“That may be, my lord; but since I am neither king nor queen nor minister, he is not my enemy and I cannot accept your offer.”
“This, then, is what you call devotion! I congratulate you. Your devotion does not commit you too far, Monsieur de Rochefort.”
“And then, my lord,” continued Rochefort, “you understand that to emerge from the Bastile in order to enter Vincennes is only to change one’s prison.”
“Say at once that you are on the side of Monsieur de Beaufort; that will be the most sincere line of conduct,” said Mazarin.
“My lord, I have been so long shut up, that I am only of one party—I am for fresh air. Employ me in any other way; employ me even actively, but let it be on the high roads.”
“My dear Monsieur de Rochefort,” Mazarin replied in a tone of raillery, “you think yourself still a young man; your spirit is that of the phoenix, but your strength fails you. Believe me, you ought now to take a rest. Here!”
“You decide, then, nothing about me, my lord?”
“On the contrary, I have come to a decision.”
Bernouin came into the room.
“Call an officer of justice,” he said; “and stay close to me,” he added, in a low tone.
The officer entered. Mazarin wrote a few words, which he gave to this man; then he bowed.
“Adieu, Monsieur de Rochefort,” he said.
Rochefort bent low.
“I see, my lord, I am to be taken back to the Bastile.”
“You are sagacious.”
“I shall return thither, my lord, but it is a mistake on your part not to employ me.”
“You? the friend of my greatest foes? Don’t suppose that you are the only person who can serve me, Monsieur de Rochefort. I shall find many men as able as you are.”
“I wish you may, my lord,” replied De Rochefort.
He was then reconducted by the little staircase, instead of passing through the ante-chamber where D’Artagnan was waiting. In the courtyard the carriage and the four musketeers were ready, but he looked around in vain for his friend.
“Ah!” he muttered to himself, “this changes the situation, and if there is still a crowd of people in the streets we will try to show Mazarin that we are still, thank God, good for something else than keeping guard over a prisoner;” and he jumped into the carriage with the alacrity of a man of five-and-twenty.
Chapter 4
Anne of Austria at the Age of Forty-six.