“A truce to compliments,” said Aramis; “we want to see the coadjutor, and instantly, as we are in haste.”
“Certainly, sir—it is not such lords as you are who are allowed to wait in the antechamber, only just now he has a secret conference with Monsieur de Bruy.”
“De Bruy!” cried the friends, “ ’tis then useless our seeing Monsieur the coadjutor this evening,” said Aramis, “so we give it up.”
And they hastened to quit the palace, followed by Bazin, who was lavish of bows and compliments.
“Well,” said Athos, when Aramis and he were in the boat again, “are you beginning to be convinced that we should have done a bad turn to all these people in arresting Mazarin?”
“You are wisdom incarnate, Athos,” Aramis replied.
What had especially been observed by the two friends was the little interest taken by the court of France in the terrible events which had occurred in England, which they thought should have arrested the attention of all Europe.
In fact, aside from a poor widow and a royal orphan who wept in the corner of the Louvre, no one appeared to be aware that Charles I had ever lived and that he had perished on the scaffold.
The two friends made an appointment for ten o’clock on the following day; for though the night was well advanced when they reached the door of the hotel, Aramis said that he had certain important visits to make and left Athos to enter alone.
At ten o’clock the next day they met again. Athos had been out since six o’clock.
“Well, have you any news?” Athos asked.
“Nothing. No one has seen d’Artagnan and Porthos has not appeared. Have you anything?”
“Nothing.”
“The devil!” said Aramis.
“In fact,” said Athos, “this delay is not natural; they took the shortest route and should have arrived before we did.”
“Add to that d’Artagnan’s rapidity in action and that he is not the man to lose an hour, knowing that we were expecting him.”
“He expected, you will remember, to be here on the fifth.”
“And here we are at the ninth. This evening the margin of possible delay expires.”
“What do you think should be done,” asked Athos, “if we have no news of them tonight?”
“Pardieu! we must go and look for them.”
“All right,” said Athos.
“But Raoul?” said Aramis.
A light cloud passed over the count’s face.
“Raoul gives me much uneasiness,” he said. “He received yesterday a message from the Prince de Condé; he went to meet him at Saint Cloud and has not returned.”
“Have you seen Madame de Chevreuse?”
“She was not at home. And you, Aramis, you were going, I think, to visit Madame de Longueville.”
“I did go there.”
“Well?”
“She was no longer there, but she had left her new address.”
“Where was she?”
“Guess; I give you a thousand chances.”
“How should I know where the most beautiful and active of the Frondists was at midnight? for I presume it was when you left me that you went to visit her.”
“At the Hôtel de Ville, my dear fellow.”
“What! at the Hôtel de Ville? Has she, then, been appointed provost of merchants?”
“No; but she has become queen of Paris, ad interim, and since she could not venture at once to establish herself in the Palais Royal or the Tuileries, she is installed at the Hôtel de Ville, where she is on the point of giving an heir or an heiress to that dear duke.”
“You didn’t tell me of that, Aramis.”
“Really? It was my forgetfulness then; pardon me.”
“Now,” asked Athos, “what are we to do with ourselves till evening? Here we are without occupation, it seems to me.”
“You forget, my friend, that we have work cut out for us in the direction of Charenton; I hope to see Monsieur de Châtillon, whom I’ve hated for a long time, there.”
“Why have you hated him?”
“Because he is the brother of Coligny.”
“Ah, true! he who presumed to be a rival of yours, for which he was severely punished; that ought to satisfy you.”
“Yes, but it does not; I am rancorous—the only stigma that proves me to be a churchman. Do you understand? You understand that you are in no way obliged to go with me.”
“Come, now,” said Athos, “you are joking.”
“In that case, my dear friend, if you are resolved to accompany me there is no time to lose; the drum beats; I observed cannon on the road; I saw the citizens in order of battle on the Place of the Hôtel de Ville; certainly the fight will be in the direction of Charenton, as the Duc de Châtillon said.”
“I supposed,” said Athos, “that last night’s conferences would modify those warlike arrangements.”
“No doubt; but they will fight, none the less, if only to mask the conferences.”
“Poor creatures!” said Athos, “who are going to be killed, in order that Monsieur de Bouillon may have his estate at Sedan restored to him, that the reversion of the admiralty may be given to the Duc de Beaufort, and that the coadjutor may be made a cardinal.”
“Come, come, dear Athos, confess that you would not be so philosophical if your Raoul were to be involved in this affair.”
“Perhaps you speak the truth, Aramis.”
“Well, let us go, then, where the fighting is, for that is the most likely place to meet with d’Artagnan, Porthos, and possibly even Raoul. Stop, there are a fine body of citizens passing; quite attractive, by Jupiter! and their captain—see! he has the true military style.”
“What, ho!” said Grimaud.
“What?” asked Athos.
“Planchet, sir.”
“Lieutenant yesterday,” said Aramis, “captain today, colonel, doubtless, tomorrow; in a fortnight the fellow will be marshal of France.”
“Question him about the fight,” said Athos.
Planchet, prouder than ever of his new duties, deigned to explain to the two gentlemen that he was ordered to take up his position on the Place Royale with two hundred men, forming the rear of the army of Paris, and to march on Charenton when necessary.
“This day will be a warm one,” said Planchet, in a warlike tone.
“No doubt,” said Aramis, “but it is far from here to
