“Monsieur,” said the king to his brother, “I am not pleased with M. le Chevalier de Lorraine. You, who do him the honor to protect him, must advise him to travel for a few months.”
These words fell with the crush of an avalanche upon Monsieur, who adored his favorite, and concentrated all his affections in him.
“In what has the chevalier been inconsiderate enough to displease Your Majesty?” cried he, darting a furious look at Madame.
“I will tell you that when he is gone,” said the king, suavely. “And also when Madame, here, shall have crossed over into England.”
“Madame! in England!” murmured Monsieur, in amazement.
“In a week, brother,” continued the king, “whilst we will go whither I will shortly tell you.” And the king turned on his heel, smiling in his brother’s face, to sweeten, as it were, the bitter draught he had given him.
During this time Colbert was talking with the Duc d’Alméda.
“Monsieur,” said Colbert to Aramis, “this is the moment for us to come to an understanding. I have made your peace with the king, and I owed that clearly to a man of so much merit; but as you have often expressed friendship for me, an opportunity presents itself for giving me a proof of it. You are, besides, more a Frenchman than a Spaniard. Shall we secure—answer me frankly—the neutrality of Spain, if we undertake anything against the United Provinces?”
“Monsieur,” replied Aramis, “the interest of Spain is clear. To embroil Europe with the Provinces would doubtless be our policy, but the king of France is an ally of the United Provinces. You are not ignorant, besides, that it would infer a maritime war, and that France is in no state to undertake this with advantage.”
Colbert, turning round at this moment, saw d’Artagnan who was seeking some interlocutor, during this “aside” of the king and Monsieur. He called him, at the same time saying in a low voice to Aramis, “We may talk openly with d’Artagnan, I suppose?”
“Oh! certainly,” replied the ambassador.
“We were saying, M. d’Alméda and I,” said Colbert, “that a conflict with the United Provinces would mean a maritime war.”
“That’s evident enough,” replied the musketeer.
“And what do you think of it, Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
“I think that to carry on such a war successfully, you must have very large land forces.”
“What did you say?” said Colbert, thinking he had ill understood him.
“Why such a large land army?” said Aramis.
“Because the king will be beaten by sea if he has not the English with him, and that when beaten by sea, he will soon be invaded, either by the Dutch in his ports, or by the Spaniards by land.”
“And Spain neutral?” asked Aramis.
“Neutral as long as the king shall prove stronger,” rejoined d’Artagnan.
Colbert admired that sagacity which never touched a question without enlightening it thoroughly. Aramis smiled, as he had long known that in diplomacy d’Artagnan acknowledged no superior. Colbert, who, like all proud men, dwelt upon his fantasy with a certainty of success, resumed the subject, “Who told you, M. d’Artagnan, that the king had no navy?”
“Oh! I take no heed of these details,” replied the captain. “I am but an indifferent sailor. Like all nervous people, I hate the sea; and yet I have an idea that, with ships, France being a seaport with two hundred exits, we might have sailors.”
Colbert drew from his pocket a little oblong book divided into two columns. On the first were the names of vessels, on the other the figures recapitulating the number of cannon and men requisite to equip these ships. “I have had the same idea as you,” said he to d’Artagnan, “and I have had an account drawn up of the vessels we have altogether—thirty-five ships.”
“Thirty-five ships! impossible!” cried d’Artagnan.
“Something like two thousand pieces of cannon,” said Colbert. “That is what the king possesses at this moment. Of five and thirty vessels we can make three squadrons, but I must have five.”
“Five!” cried Aramis.
“They will be afloat before the end of the year, gentlemen; the king will have fifty ship of the line. We may venture on a contest with them, may we not?”
“To build vessels,” said d’Artagnan, “is difficult, but possible. As to arming them, how is that to be done? In France there are neither foundries nor military docks.”
“Bah!” replied Colbert, in a bantering tone, “I have planned all that this year and a half past, did you not know it? Do you know M. d’Imfreville?”
“D’Imfreville?” replied d’Artagnan; “no.”
“He is a man I have discovered; he has a specialty; he is a man of genius—he knows how to set men to work. It is he who has cast cannon and cut the woods of Bourgogne. And then, Monsieur l’Ambassadeur, you may not believe what I am going to tell you, but I have a still further idea.”
“Oh, Monsieur!” said Aramis, civilly, “I always believe you.”
“Calculating upon the character of the Dutch, our allies, I said to myself, ‘They are merchants, they are friendly with the king; they will be happy to sell to the king what they fabricate for themselves; then the more we buy’—Ah! I must add this: I have Forant—do you know Forant, d’Artagnan?”
Colbert, in his warmth, forgot himself; he called the captain simply d’Artagnan, as the king did. But the captain only smiled at it.
“No,” replied he, “I do not know him.”
“That is another man I have discovered, with a genius for buying. This Forant has purchased for me 350,000 pounds of iron in balls, 200,000 pounds of powder, twelve cargoes of Northern timber, matches, grenades, pitch, tar—I know not what! with a saving of seven percent upon what all those articles would cost me fabricated in France.”
“That is a capital and quaint idea,” replied d’Artagnan, “to have Dutch cannonballs cast which will return to the Dutch.”
“Is it not,
