“It is really large; yes, my lord, for it is a million I enclosed in two barrels.”
“A million!” cried Monck, at whom this time, in turn, Athos looked earnestly and long. Monck perceived this, and his mistrust returned.
Here is a man
, said he to himself, who is laying a snare for me.
“So you wish to withdraw this money, Monsieur,” replied he, “as I understand?”
“If you please, my lord.”
“Today?”
“This very evening, and that on account of the circumstances I have named.”
“But, Monsieur,” objected Monck, “General Lambert is as near the abbey where you have to act as I am. Why, then, have you not addressed yourself to him?”
“Because, my lord, when one acts in important matters, it is best to consult one’s instinct before everything. Well, General Lambert does not inspire with me so much confidence as you do.”
“Be it so, Monsieur. I shall assist you in recovering your money, if, however, it can still be there; for that is far from likely. Since 1648 twelve years have rolled away, and many events have taken place.” Monck dwelt upon this point to see if the French gentleman would seize the evasions that were open to him, but Athos did not hesitate.
“I assure you, my lord,” he said firmly, “that my conviction is, that the two barrels have neither changed place nor master.” This reply had removed one suspicion from the mind of Monck, but it had suggested another. Without doubt this Frenchman was some emissary sent to entice into error the protector of the parliament; the gold was nothing but a lure; and by the help of this lure they thought to excite the cupidity of the general. This gold might not exist. It was Monck’s business, then, to seize the Frenchman in the act of falsehood and trick, and to draw from the false step itself in which his enemies wished to entrap him, a triumph for his renown. When Monck was determined how to act—
“Monsieur,” said he to Athos, “without doubt you will do me the honor to share my supper this evening?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied Athos, bowing; “for you do me an honor of which I feel myself worthy, by the inclination which drew me towards you.”
“It is so much the more gracious on your part to accept my invitation with such frankness, as my cooks are but few and inexperienced, and my providers have returned this evening empty-handed; so that if it had not been for a fisherman of your nation who strayed into our camp, General Monck would have gone to bed without his supper today; I have, then, some fresh fish to offer you, as the vendor assures me.”
“My lord, it is principally for the sake of having the honor to pass another hour with you.”
After this exchange of civilities, during which Monck had lost nothing of his circumspection, the supper, or what was to serve for one, had been laid upon a deal table. Monck invited the Comte de la Fère to be seated at this table, and took his place opposite to him. A single dish of boiled fish, set before the two illustrious guests, was more tempting to hungry stomachs than to delicate palates.
Whilst supping, that is, while eating the fish, washed down with bad ale, Monck got Athos to relate to him the last events of the Fronde, the reconciliation of M. de Condé with the king, and the probable marriage of the infanta of Spain; but he avoided, as Athos himself avoided it, all allusion to the political interests which united, or rather which disunited at this time, England, France and Holland.
Monck, in this conversation, convinced himself of one thing, which he must have remarked after the first words exchanged: that was, that he had to deal with a man of high distinction. He could not be an assassin, and it was repugnant to Monck to believe him to be a spy; but there was sufficient finesse and at the same time firmness in Athos to lead Monck to fancy he was a conspirator. When they had quitted the table, “You still believe in your treasure, then, Monsieur?” asked Monck.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Quite seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And you think you can find the place again where it was buried?”
“At the first inspection.”
“Well, Monsieur, from curiosity I shall accompany you. And it is so much the more necessary that I should accompany you, that you would find great difficulties in passing through the camp without me or one of my lieutenants.”
“General, I would not suffer you to inconvenience yourself if I did not, in fact, stand in need of your company; but as I recognize that this company is not only honorable, but necessary, I accept it.”
“Do you desire we should take any people with us?” asked Monck.
“General, I believe that would be useless, if you yourself do not see the necessity for it. Two men and a horse will suffice to transport the two casks on board the felucca which brought me hither.”
“But it will be necessary to pick, dig, and remove the earth, and split stones; you don’t intend doing this work yourself, Monsieur, do you?”
“General, there is no picking or digging required. The treasure is buried in the sepulchral vault of the convent, under a stone in which is fixed a large iron ring, and under which there are four steps leading down. The two casks are there, placed end to end, covered with a coat of plaster in the form of a bier. There is, besides, an inscription, which will enable me to recognize the stone; and as I am not willing, in an affair of delicacy and confidence, to keep the secret from your honor, here is the inscription:—‘Hic jacet venerabilis, Petrus Gulielmus Scott, Canon Honorab. Conventus Novi Castelli. Obiit quartâ et decimâ Feb. ann. Dom. MCCVIII. Requiescat in pace.’ ”
Monck did not lose a single word. He was astonished either at the marvelous duplicity of this man and the
