agents—people very respectable in their way, but very bitter, as it appears, against the military—have presumed to arrest in a house, to drag through the public streets, and to cast into Fort l’Eveque (and all this under an order which they refuse to show me), one of my musketeers, or rather of yours, sir, of irreproachable conduct, of an almost illustrious reputation, and favourably known to your majesty—M. Athos!”
“Athos,” said the king mechanically; “yes, I certainly do know that man!”
“Your majesty may remember,” said M. de Treville, “M. Athos is the musketeer who, in the vexatious duel that you heard of, had the misfortune to wound M. de Cahusac severely:—by the bye, my lord,” continued Treville, addressing the cardinal, “M. de Cahusac is entirely recovered, is he not?”
“Yes, thank you,” said the cardinal, biting his lips with anger.
“M. Athos,” continued Treville, “had gone to visit one of his friends who was from home, a young Bearnese, a cadet in his majesty’s guards, in the company of Essarts; but scarcely had he settled himself in his friend’s room, and taken up a book whilst waiting, when a cloud of bailiffs and soldiers, mingled together, laid siege to the house, and broke open several doors.”
The cardinal here made the king a sign, which signified, “It was on account of the business which I have been telling you.”
“We know all that,” said the king, “for it was all done in our service.”
“And was it,” asked Treville, “in your majesty’s service, also, that one of my musketeers, who was perfectly innocent, has been seized, placed between two guards like a criminal, and marched through the midst of an insolent crowd, although he is a gallant man, who has shed his blood for your majesty ten times, and is yet ready to shed it again?”
“Bah,” said the king, somewhat shaken; “and was that really the way of it?”
“M. de Treville does not say,” replied the cardinal with the greatest indifference, “that this innocent musketeer, this gallant man, had, only one hour before, attacked, sword in hand, four commissaries delegated by me to collect information concerning an affair of the greatest importance.”
“I defy your eminence to prove it,” cried Treville, with true Gascon frankness, and true military bluntness, “for, an hour before, M. Athos, who, I can assure you, is a man of the noble origin, did me the honour, after having dined with me, of conversing in my drawing-room with the Count de Chalons and the Duc de la Tremouille.”
The king looked at the cardinal.
“It is proved by a deposition,” said the cardinal, in answer to the mute interrogation of the king; “and the individuals who were ill-treated have prepared what I have now the honour to present to your majesty.”
“Is the affidavit of a civilian of equal value with the word of honour of a soldier?” demanded Treville fiercely.
“Come, come, Treville, be silent,” said the king.
“If his eminence has any suspicions against one of my musketeers,” replied Treville, “the justice of the cardinal is so well known, that I should myself demand an inquiry.”
“In the house in which this attack on justice has been made,” said the immovable cardinal, “there lodges, I believe, a Bearnese, a friend of the musketeer.”
“Your eminence probably alludes to M. d’Artagnan?”
“I allude to a protege of yours, M. de Treville.”
“Yes, your eminence; precisely so.”
“Do you not suspect this young man of having led M. Athos astray?”
“M. Athos—a man nearly double his own age,” broke in M. de Treville. “No, sir; besides, M. d’Artagnan passed the evening at my house!”
“Ah!” said the cardinal, “everybody seems to have passed the evening at your house.”
“Does his eminence doubt my word?” exclaimed Treville, his face flushed with anger.
“No, God forbid!” said the cardinal; “but, only, at what hour was he at your house?”
“Oh! as to that, I can speak with certainty to your eminence; for, as he entered, I remarked that it was half-past nine by the clock, although I had believed it to be later.”
“And at what hour did he leave your hotel?”
“At half-past ten—exactly one hour after this event happened.”
“But, at least, M. Athos was seized in that house, in the Rue des Fossoyeurs!” said the cardinal, who did not for a moment doubt the loyalty of M. de Treville, yet felt that victory was leaving him.
“Is it unlawful for a friend to visit a friend? or for a musketeer of my company to keep company with a guard of M. des Essarts?”
“Yes, when the house where he associates with his friend is suspected.”
“This house is suspected, Treville!” said the king: “perhaps you did not know that.”
“Indeed, sire, I did not know it. But, although it might be suspected, I deny that it was in that part which M. d’Artagnan inhabits; for I can assure you, sir, if I may believe what he has said, that there does not exist a more devoted servant of your majesty, or a more profound admirer of the cardinal.”
“Is it not this d’Artagnan who wounded Jussac in that unfortunate encounter which took place one day near the convent des Carmes Dechaux?” demanded the king, looking at the cardinal, who coloured with spite. “And wounded Bernajoux the next day.”
“Yes, sire, yes; it is the same. Your majesty has a good memory!”
“Come, what shall we decide upon?” said the king.
“That concerns your majesty more than me,” answered the cardinal. “I assert his guilt.”
“And I deny it,” said Treville. “But his majesty has judges—let them determine on the affair.”
“Exactly so,” said the king, “let us refer the matter to the judges: it is their business to judge, and they shall judge it.”
“Only,” said Treville, “it is a sad thing, in these unhappy times in which we live, that the purest life, the most indisputable virtue, cannot secure a man from disgrace and persecution. The army will be but little satisfied, I can answer for it, at being the object of such rigorous treatment at the hands of the police.”
The expression was imprudent, but Treville had thrown it out purposely. He wished for an explosion; because the mine flames out as it explodes, and the flame enlightens us.
“The police!” cried the king, taking up Treville’s words. “Affairs of the police! And what do you know about them, sir? Busy yourself with your musketeers, and don’t perplex my brain. It would seem, to hear you, that if a musketeer is arrested, France is imperilled. Ah! what a fuss about a musketeer! I will arrest ten, fifty, a hundred, ay, even the whole company, nor will any one utter a word!”
“The
