The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Alexandre Dumas
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"Your wit is always amusing," said Aramis coldly. "Well, then, I will go on?"
"Do so."
"When you found out our secret, you made all the haste you could to communicate it to the king."
"I certainly made as much haste as I could, since I saw that you were making still more. When a man weighing 258 pounds, as Porthos does, rides post; when a gouty prelate—I beg your pardon, but you told me you were so—when a prelate scours along the road; I naturally suppose that my two friends, who did not wish to be communicative with me, had certain matters of the highest importance to conceal from me, and so I made as much haste as my leanness and the absence of gout would allow."
"Did it not occur to you, my dear friend, that you might be rendering Porthos and myself a very sad service?"
"Yes; I thought it not unlikely; but you and Porthos made me play a very ridiculous part at Belle-Isle."
"I beg your pardon," said Aramis.
"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan.
"So that," pursued Aramis, "you now know everything?"
"No, indeed."
"You know I was obliged to inform M. Fouquet of what had happened, in order that he might anticipate what you might have to tell the king?"
"That is rather obscure."
"Not at all; M. Fouquet has his enemies—you will admit that, I suppose."
"Certainly."
"And one in particular."
"A dangerous one?"
"A mortal enemy. Well! in order to counteract that man's influence, it was necessary that M. Fouquet should give the king a proof of a great devotion to him, and of his readiness to make the greatest sacrifices. He surprised his majesty by offering him Belle-Isle. If you had been the first to reach Paris, the surprise would have been destroyed, it would have looked as if we had yielded to fear."
"I understand."
"That is the whole mystery," said Aramis, satisfied that he had quite convinced the musketeer.
"Only," said the latter, "it would have been more simple to have taken me aside and said to me, 'My dear D'Artagnan, we are fortifying Belle-Isle, and intend to offer it to the king. Tell us frankly, for whom you are acting. Are you a friend of M. Colbert, or of M. Fouquet?' Perhaps I should not have answered you, but you would have added—'Are you my friend?' I should have said, 'Yes.'" Aramis hung down his head. "In this way," continued D'Artagnan, "you would have paralyzed my movements, and I should have gone to the king, and said, 'Sire, M. Fouquet is fortifying Belle-Isle, and exceedingly well, too; but here is a note, which the governor of Belle-Isle gave me for your majesty;' or 'M. Fouquet is about to wait upon your majesty to explain his intentions with regard to it.' I should not have been placed in an absurd position; you would have enjoyed the surprise you wished for, and we should not have had airy occasion to look askant at each other when we met."
"While, on the contrary," replied Aramis, "you have acted altogether as one friendly to M. Colbert. And you really are a friend of his, I suppose?"
"Certainly not, indeed!" exclaimed the captain. "M. Colbert is a mean fellow, and I hate him as I used to hate Mazarin, but without fearing him."
"Well, then," said Aramis, "I love M. Fouquet, and his interests are mine. You know my position—. I have no property or means whatever—. M. Fouquet gave me several livings, a bishopric as well; M. Fouquet has served and obliged me like the generous-hearted man he is, and I know the world sufficiently well to appreciate a kindness when I meet with it. M. Fouquet has won my regard, and I have devoted myself to his service."
"You couldn't do better; you will find him a very good master."
Aramis bit his lips, and then said, "The best a man could possibly have." He then paused for a minute, D'Artagnan taking good care not to interrupt him.
"I suppose you know how Porthos got mixed up in all this?"
"No," said D'Artagnan: "I am curious, of course, but I never question a friend when he wishes to keep his real secret from me."
"Well, then, I will tell you."
"It is hardly worth the trouble, if the confidence is to bind me in any way."
"Oh, do not be afraid: there is no man whom I love better than Porthos, because he is so simple-minded and good. Porthos is so straightforward in everything. Since I have become a bishop, I have looked for those simple natures, which make me love truth and hate intrigue."
D'Artagnan simply stroked his mustache, but said nothing.
"I saw Porthos, and again cultivated his acquaintance; his own time hanging idly on his hands, his presence recalled my earlier and better days without engaging me in any present evil. I sent for Porthos to come to Vannes. M. Fouquet, whose regard for me is very great, having learned that Porthos and I were attached to each other by old ties of friendship, promised him increase of rank at the earliest promotion: and that is the whole secret."
"I shall not abuse your confidence," said D'Artagnan.
"I am sure of that, my dear friend; no one has a finer sense of honor than yourself."
"I flatter myself you are right, Aramis."
"And now," and here the prelate looked searchingly and scrutinizingly at his friend—"now let us talk of ourselves and for ourselves. Will you become one of M. Fouquet's friends? Do not interrupt me until you know what that means."
"Well, I am listening."
"Will you become a maréchal of France, peer, duke, and the possessor of a duchy, with a revenue of a million of francs?"
"But, my friend," replied D'Artagnan, "what must one do to get all that?"
"Belong to M. Fouquet."
"But I already belong to the king."
"Not exclusively, I suppose?"
"Oh! D'Artagnan cannot be divided."
"You have, I presume, ambitions, as noble hearts like yours have?"
"Yes, certainly I have."
"Well?"
"Well, I wish to be a maréchal; the king will make me maréchal, duke, peer—the king will make me all that."
Aramis fixed a searching look upon D'Artagnan.
"Is not the king master?" said D'Artagnan.
"No one disputes it; but Louis XIII. was master also."
"Oh, my dear friend, between Richelieu and Louis XIII. there was no D'Artagnan," said the musketeer, very quietly.
"There