The Vicomte De Bragelonne by Alexandre Dumas (mini ebook reader txt) 📖
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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"Good!" said the abbe.
"Enter by the cabaret, take the prisoners in; defend the door while you enable them to fly by the garden and the Place Baudoyer."
"That is all plain. Monsieur, you would make an excellent general, like monsieur le prince."
"Have you understood me?"
"Perfectly well."
"How much will it amount to, to make your bandits all drunk with wine, and to satisfy them with gold?"
"Oh, monsieur, what an expression! Oh! monsieur, if they heard you! some of them are very susceptible."
"I mean to say they must be brought to the point where they cannot tell the heavens from the earth; for I shall to-morrow contend with the king; and when I fight I mean to conquer--please to understand."
"It shall be done, monsieur. Give me your other ideas."
"That is your business."
"Then give me your purse."
"Gourville, count a hundred thousand livres for the abbe."
"Good! and spare nothing, did you not say?"
"Nothing."
"That is well."
"Monseigneur," objected Gourville, "if this should be known, we should lose our heads."
"Eh! Gourville," replied Fouquet, purple with anger, "you excite my pity. Speak for yourself, if you please. My head does not shake in that manner upon my shoulders. Now, abbe, is everything arranged?"
"Everything."
"At two o'clock to-morrow."
"At twelve, because it will be necessary to prepare our auxiliaries in a secret manner."
"That is true; do not spare the wine of the cabaretier."
"I will spare neither his wine nor his house," replied the abbe, with a sneering laugh. "I have my plan, I tell you; leave me to set it in operation, and you shall see."
"Where shall you be yourself?"
"Everywhere; nowhere."
"And how shall I receive information?"
"By a courier whose horse shall be kept in the very same garden of your friend. A propos, the name of your friend?"
Fouquet looked again at Gourville. The latter came to the succor of his master, saying, ["The name is of no importance."
Fouquet continued, "Accompany] monsieur l'abbe, for several reasons, but the house is easily to be known--the 'Image-de-Notre-Dame' in the front, a garden, the only one in the quarter, behind."
"Good, good! I will go and give notice to my soldiers."
"Accompany him, Gourville," said Fouquet, "and count him down the money. One moment, abbe--one moment, Gourville--what name will be given to this carrying off?"
"A very natural one, monsieur--the Riot."
"The riot on account of what? For, if ever the people of Paris are disposed to pay their court to the king, it is when he hangs financiers."
"I will manage that," said the abbe.
"Yes; but you may manage it badly, and people will guess."
"Not at all,--not at all. I have another idea."
"What is that?"
"My men shall cry out, 'Colbert, vive Colbert!' and shall throw themselves upon the prisoners as if they would tear them in pieces, and shall force them from the gibbets, as too mild a punishment."
"Ah! that is an idea," said Gourville. "Peste! monsieur l'abbe, what an imagination you have!"
"Monsieur, we are worthy of our family," replied the abbe, proudly.
"Strange fellow," murmured Fouquet. Then he added, "That is ingenious. Carry it out, but shed no blood."
Gourville and the abbe set off together, with their heads full of the meditated riot. The superintendent laid himself down upon some cushions, half valiant with respect to the sinister projects of the morrow, half dreaming of love.
At two o'clock the next day fifty thousand spectators had taken their position upon the Place, around the two gibbets which had been elevated between the Quai de la Greve and the Quai Pelletier; one close to the other, with their backs to the embankment of the river. In the morning also, all the sworn criers of the good city of Paris had traversed the quarters of the city, particularly the halles and the faubourgs, announcing with their hoarse and indefatigable voices the great justice done by the king upon two speculators, two thieves, devourers of the people. And these people, whose interests were so warmly looked after, in order not to fail in respect for their king, quitted shops, stalls, and atliers, to go and evince a little gratitude to Louis XIV., absolutely like invited guests, who feared to commit an impoliteness in not repairing to the house of him who had invited them. According to the tenor of the sentence, which the criers read aloud and incorrectly, two farmers of the revenues, monopolists of money, dilapidators of the royal provisions, extortioners, and forgers, were about to undergo capital punishment on the Place de Greve, with their names blazoned over their heads, according to their sentence. As to those names, the sentence made no mention of them. The curiosity of the Parisians was at its height, and, as we have said, an immense crowd waited with feverish impatience the hour fixed for the execution. The news had already spread that the prisoners, transferred to the Chateau of Vincennes, would be conducted from that prison to the Place de Greve. Consequently, the faubourg and the Rue Saint Antoine were crowded; for the population of Paris in those days of great executions was divided into two categories: those who came to see the condemned pass--these were of timid and mild hearts, but philosophically curious--and those who wished to see the condemned die--these had hearts that hungered for sensation. On this day M. d'Artagnan received his last instructions from the king, and made his adieus to his friends, the number of whom was, at the moment, reduced to Planchet, then he traced the plan of his day, as every busy man whose moments are counted ought to do, because he appreciates their importance.
"My departure is to be," said he, "at break of day, three o'clock in the morning; I have then fifteen hours before me. Take from them the six hours of sleep which are indispensable for me--six; one hour for repasts--seven; one hour for a farewell visit to Athos--eight; two hours for chance circumstances--total, ten. There are then five hours left. One hour to get my money,--that is, to have payment refused by M. Fouquet; another hour to go and receive my money of M. Colbert, together with his questions and grimaces; one hour to look over my clothes and arms, and get my boots cleaned. I still have two hours left. Mordioux! how rich I am." And so saying, D'Artagnan felt a strange joy, a joy of youth, a perfume of those great and happy years of former times mount into his brain and intoxicate him. "During these two hours I will go," said the musketeer, "and take my quarter's rent of the Image-de-Notre-Dame. That will be pleasant. Three hundred and seventy-five livres! Mordioux! but that is astonishing! If the poor man who has but one livre in his pocket, found a livre and twelve deniers, that would be justice, that would be excellent; but never does such a godsend fall to the lot of the poor man. The rich man, on the contrary, makes himself revenue with his money, which he does not even touch. Here are three hundred and seventy-five livres which fall to me from heaven. I will go then to the Image-de-Notre-Dame, and drink a glass of Spanish wine with my tenant, which he cannot fail to offer me. But order must be observed, Monsieur d'Artagnan, order must be observed! Let us organize our time, then, and distribute the employment of it! Art. 1st, Athos; Art. 2d, the Image-de-Notre-Dame; Art. 3rd, M. Fouquet; Art. 4th, M. Colbert; Art. 5th, supper; Art. 6th, clothes, boots, horse, portmanteau; Art. 7th and last, sleep."
In consequence of this arrangement, D'Artagnan went straight to the Comte de la Fere, to whom, modestly and ingenuously, he related a part of his fortunate adventures. Athos had not been without uneasiness on the subject of D'Artagnan's visit to the king; but few words sufficed for an explanation of that. Athos divined that Louis had charged D'Artagnan with some important mission, and did not even make an effort to draw the secret from him. He only recommended him to take care of himself, and offered discreetly to accompany him if that were desirable.
"But, my dear friend," said D'Artagnan, "I am going nowhere."
"What! you come and bid me adieu, and are going nowhere?"
"Oh! yes, yes," replied D'Artagnan, coloring a little, "I am going to make an acquisition."
"That is quite another thing. Then I change my formula. Instead of 'Do not get yourself killed,' I will say,--'Do not get yourself robbed.'"
"My friend, I will inform you if I set eyes on any property that pleases me, and shall expect you will favor me with your opinion."
"Yes, yes," said Athos, too delicate to permit himself even the consolation of a smile. Raoul imitated the paternal reserve. But D'Artagnan thought it would appear too mysterious to leave his friends under a pretense, without even telling them the route he was about to take.
"I have chosen Le Mans," said he to Athos. "It is a good country?"
"Excellent, my friend," replied the count, without making him observe that Le Mans was in the same directions as La Touraine, and that by waiting two days, at most, he might travel with a friend. But D'Artagnan, more embarrassed than the count, dug, at every explanation, deeper into the mud, into which he sank by degrees. "I shall set out to-morrow at daybreak," said he at last. "Till that time, will you come with me, Raoul?"
"Yes, monsieur le chevalier," said the young man, "if monsieur le comte does not want me."
"No, Raoul; I am to have an audience to-day of Monsieur, the king's brother; that is all I have to do."
Raoul asked Grimaud for his sword, which the old man brought him immediately. "Now then," added D'Artagnan, opening his arms to Athos, "adieu, my dear friend!" Athos held him in a long embrace, and the musketeer, who knew his discretion so well, murmured in his ear--"An affair of state," to which Athos only replied by a pressure of the hand, still more significant. They then separated. Raoul took the arm of his old friend, who led him along the Rue Saint-Honore. "I an conducting you to the abode of the god Plutus," said D'Artagnan to the young man; "prepare yourself. The whole day you will witness the piling up of crowns. Heavens! how I am changed!"
"Oh! what numbers of people there are in the street!" said Raoul.
"Is there a procession to-day?" asked D'Artagnan of a passer-by.
"Monsieur, it is a hanging," replied the man.
"What! a hanging at the Greve?" said D'Artagnan.
"Yes, monsieur."
"The devil take the rogue who gets himself hung the day I want to go and take my rent!" cried D'Artagnan. "Raoul, did you ever see anybody hung?"
"Never, monsieur--thank God!"
"Oh! how young that sounds! If you were on guard in the trenches, as I was, and a spy! But, pardon me, Raoul, I am doting--you are quite right, it is a hideous sight to see a person hung! At what hour do they hang them, monsieur, if you please?"
"Monsieur," replied the stranger respectfully, delighted at joining conversation with two men of the sword, "it will take place at about three o'clock."
"Aha! it is now only half-past one; let us step out, we shall be there in time to touch my three hundred and seventy-five livres, and get away before the arrival of the malefactor."
"Malefactors, monsieur," continued the bourgeois;
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