Chapter 74 - In Which D'artagnan Makes All Speed, Porthos Snores, And Aramis Counsels
From thirty to thirty-five hours after the events we havejust related, as M. Fouquet, according to his custom, havinginterdicted his door, was working in the cabinet of hishouse at Saint-Mande, with which we are already acquainted,a carriage, drawn by four horses steaming with sweat,entered the court at full gallop. This carriage was,probably, expected, for three or four lackeys hastened tothe door, which they opened. Whilst M. Fouquet rose from hisbureau and ran to the window, a man got painfully out of thecarriage descending with difficulty the three steps of thedoor, leaning upon the shoulders of the lackeys. He hadscarcely uttered his name, when the valet upon whom he wasnot leaning sprang up the perron, and disappeared in thevestibule. This man went to inform his master; but he had nooccasion to knock at the door: Fouquet was standing on thethreshold.
"Monseigneur, the Bishop of Vannes," said he.
"Very well!" replied his master.
Then, leaning over the banister of the staircase, of whichAramis was beginning to ascend the first steps, -
"Ah, dear friend!" said he, "you, so soon!"
"Yes; I, myself, monsieur! but bruised, battered, as yousee."
"Oh! my poor friend," said Fouquet, presenting him his arm,on which Aramis leant, whilst the servants drew backrespectfully.
"Bah!" replied Aramis, "it is nothing, since I am here; theprincipal thing was that I should get here, and here I am."
"Speak quickly," said Fouquet, closing the door of thecabinet behind Aramis and himself.
"Are we alone?"
"Yes, perfectly."
"No one observes us? - no one can hear us?"
"Be satisfied; nobody."
"Is M. du Vallon arrived?"
"Yes."
"And you have received my letter?"
"Yes. The affair is serious, apparently, since itnecessitates your attendance in Paris, at a moment when yourpresence was so urgent elsewhere."
"You are right, it could not be more serious."
"Thank you! thank you! What is it about? But, for God'ssake! before anything else, take time to breathe, dearfriend. You are so pale, you frighten me."
"I am really in great pain. But, for Heaven's sake, thinknothing about me. Did M. du Vallon tell you nothing, when hedelivered the letter to you?"
"No; I heard a great noise; I went to the window; I saw atthe foot of the perron, a sort of horseman of marble; I wentdown, he held the letter out to me, and his horse fell downdead."
"But he?"
"He fell with the horse; he was lifted, and carried to anapartment. Having read the letter, I went up to him, inhopes of obtaining more ample information; but he wasasleep, and, after such a fashion, that it was impossible towake him. I took pity on him; I gave orders that his bootsshould be cut from off his legs, and that he should be leftquite undisturbed."
"So far well; now, this is the question in hand,monseigneur. You have seen M. d'Artagnan in Paris, have younot?"
"Certes, and think him a man of intelligence, and even a manof heart; although he did bring about the death of our dearfriends, Lyodot and D'Eymeris."
"Alas! yes, I heard of that. At Tours I met the courier whowas bringing me the letter from Gourville, and thedispatches from Pellisson. Have you seriously reflected onthat event, monsieur?"
"Yes."
"And in it you perceived a direct attack upon yoursovereignty?"
"And do you believe it to be so?"
"Oh, yes, I think so."
"Well, I must confess, that sad idea occurred to melikewise."
"Do not blind yourself, monsieur, in the name of Heaven!Listen attentively to me, - I return to D'Artagnan."
"I am all attention."
"Under what circumstances did you see him?"
"He came here for money."
"With what kind of order?"
"With an order from the king."
"Direct?"
"Signed by his majesty."
"There, then! Well, D'Artagnan has been to Belle-Isle; hewas disguised; he came in the character of some sort of anintendant, charged by his master to purchase salt-mines.Now, D'Artagnan has no other master but the king: he came,then, sent by the king. He saw Porthos."
"Who is Porthos?"
"I beg your pardon, I made a mistake. He saw M. du Vallon atBelle-Isle; and he knows, as well as you and I do, thatBelle-Isle is fortified."
"And you think that the king sent him there?" said Fouquet,pensively.
"I certainly do."
"And D'Artagnan, in the hands of the king, is a dangerousinstrument?"
"The most dangerous imaginable."
"Then I formed a correct opinion of him at the firstglance."
"How so?"
"I wished to attach him to myself."
"If you judged him to be the bravest, the most acute, andthe most adroit man in France, you judged correctly."
"He must be had then, at any price."
"D'Artagnan?"
"Is not that your opinion?"
"It may be my opinion, but you will never get him."
"Why?"
"Because we have allowed the time to go by. He wasdissatisfied with the court, we should have profited bythat; since that, he has passed into England; there hepowerfully assisted in the restoration, there he gained afortune, and, after all, he returned to the service of theking. Well, if he has returned to the service of the king,it is because he is well paid in that service."
"We will pay him even better, that is all."
"Oh! monsieur, excuse me; D'Artagnan has a high respect forhis word, and where that is once engaged he keeps it."
"What do you conclude, then?" said Fouquet, with greatinquietude.
"At present, the principal thing is to parry a dangerousblow."
"And how is it to be parried?"
"Listen."
"But D'Artagnan will come and render an account to the kingof his mission."
"Oh, we have time enough to think about that."
"How so? You are much in advance of him, I presume?"
"Nearly ten hours."
"Well, in ten hours - - "
Aramis shook his pale head. "Look at these clouds which flitacross the heavens; at these swallows which cut the air.D'Artagnan moves more quickly than the clouds or the birds;D'Artagnan is the wind which carries them."
"A strange man!"
"I tell you, he is superhuman, monsieur. He is of my ownage, and I have known him these five-and-thirty years."
"Well?"
"Well, listen to my calculation, monsieur. I sent M. duVallon off to you two hours after midnight. M. du Vallon waseight hours in advance of me, when did M. du Vallon arrive?"
"About four hours ago."
"You see, then, that I gained four upon him; and yet Porthosis a staunch horseman, and he has left on the road eightdead horses, whose bodies I came to successively. I rodepost fifty leagues; but I have the gout, the gravel, andwhat else I know not; so that fatigue kills me. I wasobliged to dismount at Tours; since that, rolling along in acarriage, half dead, sometimes overturned, drawn upon thesides, and sometimes on the back of the carriage, alwayswith four spirited horses at full gallop, I have arrived - arrived, gaining four hours upon Porthos; but, see you,D'Artagnan does not weigh three hundred-weight, as Porthosdoes; D'Artagnan has not the gout and gravel, as I have; heis not a horseman, he is a centaur. D'Artagnan, look you,set out for Belle-Isle when I set out for Paris; andD'Artagnan, notwithstanding my ten hours, advance,D'Artagnan will arrive within two hours after me."
"But, then, accidents?"
"He never meets with accidents."
"Horses may fail him."
"He will run as fast as a horse."
"Good God! what a man!"
"Yes, he is a man whom I love and admire. I love him becausehe is good, great, and loyal; I admire him because herepresents in my eyes the culminating point of human power;but, whilst loving and admiring him, I fear him, and am onmy guard against him. Now then, I resume, monsieur; in twohours D'Artagnan will be here; be beforehand with him. Go tothe Louvre, and see the king, before he sees D'Artagnan."
"What shall I say to the king?"
"Nothing; give him Belle-Isle."
"Oh! Monsieur d'Herblay! Monsieur d'Herblay," cried Fouquet,"what projects crushed all at once!"
"After one project that has failed, there is always anotherproject that may lead to fortune; we should never despair.Go, monsieur, and go at once."
"But that garrison, so carefully chosen, the king willchange it directly."
"That garrison, monsieur, was the king's when it enteredBelle-Isle; it is yours now; it is the same with allgarrisons after a fortnight's occupation. Let things go on,monsieur. Do you see any inconvenience in having an army atthe end of a year, instead of two regiments? Do you not seethat your garrison of today will make you partisans at LaRochelle, Nantes, Bordeaux, Toulouse - in short, whereverthey may be sent to? Go to the king, monsieur; go; timeflies, and D'Artagnan, while we are losing time, is flying,like an arrow, along the high-road."
"Monsieur d'Herblay, you know that each word from you is agerm which fructifies in my thoughts. I will go to theLouvre."
"Instantly, will you not?"
"I only ask time to change my dress."
"Remember that D'Artagnan has no need to pass throughSaint-Mande; but will go straight to the Louvre; that iscutting off an hour from the advantage that yet remains tous."
"D'Artagnan may have everything except my English horses. Ishall be at the Louvre in twenty-five minutes." And, withoutlosing a second, Fouquet gave orders for his departure.
Aramis had only time to say to him, "Return as quickly asyou go; for I shall await you impatiently."
Five minutes after, the superintendent was flying along theroad to Paris. During this time Aramis desired to be shownthe chamber in which Porthos was sleeping. At the door ofFouquet's cabinet he was folded in the arms of Pellisson,who had just heard of his arrival, and had left his officeto see him. Aramis received, with that friendly dignitywhich he knew so well how to assume, these caresses,respectful as earnest; but all at once stopping on thelanding-place, "What is that I hear up yonder?"
There was, in fact, a hoarse, growling kind of noise, likethe roar of a hungry tiger, or an impatient lion. "Oh, thatis nothing," said Pellisson, smiling.
"Well; but - - "
"It is M. du Vallon snoring."
"Ah! true," said Aramis. "I had forgotten. No one but he iscapable of making such a noise. Allow me, Pellisson, toinquire if he wants anything."
"And you will permit me to accompany you?"
"Oh, certainly;" and both entered the chamber. Porthos wasstretched upon the bed; his face was violet rather than red;his eyes were swelled; his mouth was wide open. The roaringwhich escaped from the deep cavities of his chest made theglass of the windows vibrate. To those developed and clearlydefined muscles starting from his face, to his hair mattedwith sweat, to the energetic heaving of his chin andshoulders, it was impossible to refuse a certain degree ofadmiration. Strength carried to this point is semi-divine.The Herculean legs and feet of Porthos had, by swelling,burst his stockings; all the strength of his huge body wasconverted into the rigidity of stone. Porthos moved no morethan does the giant of granite which reclines upon theplains of Agrigentum. According to Pellisson's orders, hisboots had been cut off, for no human power could have pulledthem off. Four lackeys had tried in vain, pulling at them asthey would have pulled capstans; and yet all this did notawaken him. They had hacked off his boots in fragments, andhis legs had fallen back upon the bed. They then cut off therest of his clothes, carried him to a bath, in which theylet him soak a considerable time. They then put on him cleanlinen, and placed him in a well-warmed bed - the whole withefforts and pains which might have roused a dead man, butwhich did not make Porthos open an eye, or interrupt for asecond the formidable diapason of his snoring. Aramis wishedon his part, with his nervous nature, armed withextraordinary courage, to outbrave fatigue, and employhimself with Gourville and Pellisson, but he fainted in thechair in which he had persisted sitting. He was carried intothe adjoining room, where the repose of bed soon soothed hisfailing brain.