Twenty Years After. Dumas Alexandre
there is on the wall of my cell, scratched with a nail, a proverb, which says, ‘Like master, like servant.’”
“Pray, what does that mean?”
“It means that Monsieur de Richelieu was able to find trusty servants, dozens and dozens of them.”
“He! the point aimed at by every poniard! Richelieu, who passed his life in warding off blows which were forever aimed at him!”
“But he did ward them off,” said De Rochefort, “and the reason was, that though he had bitter enemies he possessed also true friends. I have known persons,” he continued-for he thought he might avail himself of the opportunity of speaking of D’Artagnan-“who by their sagacity and address have deceived the penetration of Cardinal Richelieu; who by their valor have got the better of his guards and spies; persons without money, without support, without credit, yet who have preserved to the crowned head its crown and made the cardinal crave pardon.”
“But those men you speak of,” said Mazarin, smiling inwardly on seeing Rochefort approach the point to which he was leading him, “those men were not devoted to the cardinal, for they contended against him.”
“No; in that case they would have met with more fitting reward. They had the misfortune to be devoted to that very queen for whom just now you were seeking servants.”
“But how is it that you know so much of these matters?”
“I know them because the men of whom I speak were at that time my enemies; because they fought against me; because I did them all the harm I could and they returned it to the best of their ability; because one of them, with whom I had most to do, gave me a pretty sword-thrust, now about seven years ago, the third that I received from the same hand; it closed an old account.”
“Ah!” said Mazarin, with admirable suavity, “could I but find such men!”
“My lord, there has stood for six years at your very door a man such as I describe, and during those six years he has been unappreciated and unemployed by you.”
“Who is it?”
“It is Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
“That Gascon!” cried Mazarin, with well acted surprise.
“‘That Gascon’ has saved a queen and made Monsieur de Richelieu confess that in point of talent, address and political skill, to him he was only a tyro.”
“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