"In that case, you are not human, Monsieur d'Artagnan, for I believe you never are mistaken."
"Your majesty said, that we were going to see whether such was the case or not."
"Yes."
"In what way, may I venture to ask?"
"I have sent for M. de Manicamp, and M. de Manicamp is coming."
"And M. de Manicamp knows the secret?"
"Guiche has no secrets for M. de Manicamp."
D'Artagnan shook his head. "No one was present at the combat, I repeat; and, unless M. de Manicamp was one of the two men who brought him back—"
"Hush!" said the king, "he is coming; remain there, and listen attentively."
"Very good, sire."
And, at the same moment, Manicamp and Saint-Aignan appeared at the thresh-hold of the door.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE ENCOUNTER.
The king with his hand made, first to the musketeer, and then to Saint-Aignan, an imperious and significant gesture, as much as to say, "On your lives, not a word." D'Artagnan withdrew, like a soldier, into a corner of the room; Saint-Aignan, in his character of favorite, leaned over the back of the king's chair. Manicamp, with his right foot properly advanced, a smile upon his lips, and his white and well-formed hands gracefully disposed, advanced to make his reverence to the king, who returned the salutation by a bow. "Good evening, M. de Manicamp," he said.
"Your majesty did me the honor to send for me," said Manicamp.
"Yes, in order to learn from you all the details of the unfortunate accident which has befallen the Comte de Guiche."
"Oh! sire, it is very grievous indeed."
"You were there?"
"Not precisely so, sire."
"But you arrived on the scene where the accident occurred a few minutes after it took place?"
"I did so, sire, about half an hour afterward."
"And where did the accident happen?"
"I believe, sire, the place is called the Rond-point du Bois-Rochin."
"Oh! the rendezvous of the hunt."
"The very spot, sire."
"Very good; tell me what details you are acquainted with, respecting this unhappy affair, Monsieur de Manicamp."
"Perhaps your majesty has already been informed of them, and I fear to fatigue you by useless repetitions."
"No, do not be afraid of that."
Manicamp looked all around him; he only saw D'Artagnan leaning with his back against the wainscot—D'Artagnan, calm, kind, and good-natured as usual—and Saint-Aignan whom he had accompanied, and who still leaned over the king's armchair with an expression of countenance equally full of good feeling. He determined, therefore, to speak out. "Your majesty is perfectly aware," he said, "that accidents are very frequent in hunting."
"In hunting, do you say?"
"I mean, sire, when an animal is brought to bay."
"Ah! ah!" said the king, "it was when the animal was brought to bay, then, that the accident happened."
"Alas! sire, unhappily, it was so."
The king paused for a moment before he said: "What animal was being hunted?"
"A wild boar, sire."
"And what could possibly have possessed De Guiche to go to a wild-boar hunt by himself; that is but a clownish idea of sport, and only fit for that class of people who, unlike the Maréchal de Grammont, have no dogs and huntsmen to hunt as gentlemen should do."
Manicamp shrugged his shoulders. "Youth is very rash," he said sententiously.
"Well, go on," said the king.
"At all events," continued Manicamp, not venturing to be too precipitate and hasty, and letting his words fall very slowly, one by one, "at all events, sire, poor De Guiche went hunting—quite alone."
"Quite alone, indeed! What a sportsman. And is not M. de Guiche aware that the wild boar always stands at bay?"
"That is the very thing that really happened, sire."
"He had some idea, then, of the beast being there?"
"Yes, sire, some peasants had seen it among their potatoes."
"And what kind of animal was it?"
"A short, thick beast."
"You may as well tell me, monsieur, that Guiche had some idea of committing suicide, for I have seen him hunt, and he is an active and vigorous hunter. Whenever he fires at an animal brought to bay and held in check by the dogs, he takes every possible precaution, and yet he fires with a carbine, and on this occasion he seems to have faced the boar with pistols only."
Manicamp started.
"A costly pair of pistols, excellent weapons to fight a duel with a man and not with a wild boar. What absurdity."
"There are some things, sire, which are difficult of explanation."
"You are quite right, and the event which we are now discussing is one of those things. Go on."
During the recital, Saint-Aignan, who had probably made a sign to Manicamp to be careful what he was about, found that the king's glance was constantly fixed upon himself, so that it was utterly impossible to communicate with Manicamp in any way. As for D'Artagnan, the statue of Silence at Athens was far more noisy and far more expressive than he. Manicamp, therefore, was obliged to continue in the same way he had begun, and so contrived to get more and more entangled in his explanation. "Sire," he said, "this is probably how the affair happened. Guiche was waiting to receive the boar as it rushed toward him."
"On foot or on horseback?" inquired the king.
"On horseback. He fired upon the brute and missed his aim, and then it dashed upon him."
"And the horse was killed?"
"Ah! your majesty knows that, then."
"I have been told that a horse has been found lying dead in the cross-roads of the Bois-Rochin, and I presume it was De Guiche's horse."
