what misfortune could happen to me? To quote some Latin verses I have forgotten, or rather, never knew well, ‘the thunderbolt never falls on the valleys,’ and I am a valley, dear Rochefort, – one of the lowliest of the low.”
“Then Mazarin is still Mazarin?”
“The same as ever, my friend; it is said that he is married to the queen.”
“Married?”
“If not her husband, he is unquestionably her lover.”
“You surprise me. Rebuff Buckingham and consent to Mazarin!”
“Just like the women,” replied D’Artagnan, coolly.
“Like women, not like queens.”
“Egad! queens are the weakest of their sex, when it comes to such things as these.”
“And M. de Beaufort-is he still in prison?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Oh, nothing, but that he might get me out of this, if he were favorably inclined to me.”
“You are probably nearer freedom than he is, so it will be your business to get him out.”
“And,” said the prisoner, “what talk is there of war with Spain?”
“With Spain, no,” answered D’Artagnan; “but Paris.”
“What do you mean?” cried Rochefort.
“Do you hear the guns, pray? The citizens are amusing themselves in the meantime.”
“And you-do you really think that anything could be done with these bourgeois?”
“Yes, they might do well if they had any leader to unite them in one body.”
“How miserable not to be free!”
“Don’t be downcast. Since Mazarin has sent for you, it is because he wants you. I congratulate you! Many a long year has passed since any one has wanted to employ me; so you see in what a situation I am.”
“Make your complaints known; that’s my advice.”
“Listen, Rochefort; let us make a compact. We are friends, are we not?”
“Egad! I bear the traces of our friendship-three slits or slashes from your sword.”
“Well, if you should be restored to favor, don’t forget me.”
“On the honor of a Rochefort; but you must do the like for me.”
“There’s my hand, – I promise.”
“Therefore, whenever you find any opportunity of saying something in my behalf-”
“I shall say it, and you?”
“I shall do the same.”
“Apropos, are we to speak of your friends also, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis? or have you forgotten them?”
“Almost.”
“What has become of them?”
“I don’t know; we separated, as you know. They are alive, that’s all that I can say about them; from time to time I hear of them indirectly, but in what part of the world they are, devil take me if I know, No, on my honor, I have not a friend in the world but you, Rochefort.”
“And the illustrious-what’s the name of the lad whom I made a sergeant in Piedmont’s regiment?”
“Planchet!”
“The illustrious Planchet. What has become of him?”
“I shouldn’t wonder if he were at the head of the mob at this very moment. He married a woman who keeps a confectioner’s shop in the Rue des Lombards, for he’s a lad who was always fond of sweetmeats; he’s now a citizen of Paris. You’ll see that that queer fellow will be a sheriff before I shall be a captain.”
“Come, dear D’Artagnan, look up a little! Courage! It is when one is lowest on the wheel of fortune that the merry-go-round wheels and rewards us. This evening your destiny begins to change.”
“Amen!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, stopping the carriage.
“What are you doing?” asked Rochefort.
“We are almost there and I want no one to see me getting out of your carriage; we are supposed not to know each other.”
“You are right. Adieu.”
“Au revoir. Remember your promise.”
In five minutes the party entered the courtyard and D’Artagnan led the prisoner up the great staircase and across the corridor and ante-chamber.
As they stopped at the door of the cardinal’s study, D’Artagnan was about to be announced when Rochefort slapped him on his shoulder.
“D’Artagnan, let me confess to you what I’ve been thinking about during the whole of my drive, as I looked out upon the parties of citizens who perpetually crossed our path and looked at you and your four men with fiery eyes.”
“Speak out,” answered D’Artagnan.
“I had only to cry out ‘Help!’ for you and for your companions to be cut to pieces, and then I should have been free.”
“Why didn’t you do it?” asked the lieutenant.
“Come, come!” cried Rochefort. “Did we not swear friendship? Ah! had any one but you been there, I don’t say-”
D’Artagnan bowed. “Is it possible that Rochefort has become a better man than I am?” he said to himself. And he caused himself to be announced to the minister.
“Let M. de Rochefort enter,” said Mazarin, eagerly, on hearing their names pronounced; “and beg M. d’Artagnan to wait; I shall have further need of him.”
These words gave great joy to D’Artagnan. As he had said, it had been a long time since any one had needed him; and that demand for his services on the part of Mazarin seemed to him an auspicious sign.
Rochefort, rendered suspicious and cautious by these words, entered the apartment, where he found Mazarin sitting at the table, dressed in his ordinary garb and as one of the prelates of the Church, his costume being similar to that of the abbes in that day, excepting that his scarf and stockings were violet.
As the door was closed Rochefort cast a glance toward Mazarin, which was answered by one, equally furtive, from the minister.
There was little change in the cardinal; still dressed with sedulous care, his hair well arranged and curled, his person perfumed, he looked, owing to his extreme taste in dress, only half his age. But Rochefort, who had passed five years in prison, had become old in the lapse of a few years; the dark locks of this estimable friend of the defunct Cardinal Richelieu were now white; the deep bronze of his complexion had been succeeded by a mortal pallor which betokened debility. As he gazed at him Mazarin shook
