“Make ready!”
At the same moment the guardhouse was opened and a voice called out:
“La Bruyère and Du Barthois! March!”
“It seems that I am named La Bruyère,” remarked d’Artagnan.
“And I, Du Barthois,” added Porthos.
“Where are you?” asked the valet de chambre, whose eyes, dazzled by the light, could not clearly distinguish our heroes in the gloom.
“Here we are,” said the Gascon.
“What say you to that, Monsieur du Vallon?” he added in a low tone to Porthos.
“If it but lasts, most capital,” responded Porthos.
These two newly enlisted soldiers marched gravely after the valet de chambre, who opened the door of the vestibule, then another which seemed to be that of a waiting-room, and showing them two stools:
“Your orders are very simple,” he said; “don’t allow anybody, except one person, to enter here. Do you hear—not a single creature! Obey that person implicitly. On your return you cannot make a mistake. You have only to wait here till I release you.”
D’Artagnan was known to this valet de chambre, who was no other than Bernouin, and he had during the last six or eight months introduced the Gascon a dozen times to the cardinal. The Gascon, therefore, instead of answering, growled out “Ja! Ja!” in the most German and the least Gascon accent possible.
As for Porthos, on whom d’Artagnan had impressed the necessity of absolute silence and who did not even now begin to comprehend the scheme of his friend, which was to follow Mazarin in his visit to Athos, he was simply mute. All that he was allowed to say, in case of emergencies, was the proverbial Der Teufel!
Bernouin shut the door and went away. When Porthos heard the key turn in the lock he began to be alarmed, lest they should only have exchanged one prison for another.
“Porthos, my friend,” said d’Artagnan, “don’t distrust Providence! Let me meditate and consider.”
“Meditate and consider as much as you like,” replied Porthos, who was now quite out of humor at seeing things take this turn.
“We have walked eight paces,” whispered d’Artagnan, “and gone up six steps, so hereabouts is the pavilion called the Pavilion of the Orangery. The Comte de la Fère cannot be far off, only the doors are locked.”
“That is a slight difficulty,” said Porthos, “and a good push with the shoulders—”
“For God’s sake, Porthos my friend, reserve your feats of strength, or they will not have, when needed, the honor they deserve. Have you not heard that someone is coming here?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that someone will open the doors.”
“But, my dear fellow, if that someone recognizes us, if that someone cries out, we are lost; for you don’t propose, I imagine, that I shall kill that man of the church. That might do if we were dealing with Englishmen or Germans.”
“Oh, may God keep me from it, and you, too!” said d’Artagnan. “The young king would, perhaps, show us some gratitude; but the queen would never forgive us, and it is she whom we have to consider. And then, besides, the useless blood! never! no, never! I have my plan; let me carry it out and we shall laugh.”
“So much the better,” said Porthos; “I feel some need of it.”
“Hush!” said d’Artagnan; “the someone is coming.”
The sound of a light step was heard in the vestibule. The hinges of the door creaked and a man appeared in the dress of a cavalier, wrapped in a brown cloak, with a lantern in one hand and a large beaver hat pulled down over his eyes.
Porthos effaced himself against the wall, but he could not render himself invisible; and the man in the cloak said to him, giving him his lantern:
“Light the lamp which hangs from the ceiling.”
Then addressing d’Artagnan:
“You know the watchword?” he said.
“Ja!” replied the Gascon, determined to confine himself to this specimen of the German tongue.
“Tedesco!” answered the cavalier; “va bene.”
And advancing toward the door opposite to that by which he came in, he opened it and disappeared behind it, shutting it as he went.
“Now,” asked Porthos, “what are we to do?”
“Now we shall make use of your shoulder, friend Porthos, if this door proves to be locked. Everything in its proper time, and all comes right to those who know how to wait patiently. But first barricade the first door well; then we will follow yonder cavalier.”
The two friends set to work and crowded the space before the door with all the furniture in the room, as not only to make the passage impassable, but so to block the door that by no means could it open inward.
“There!” said d’Artagnan, “we can’t be overtaken. Come! forward!”
LXXXV
The Oubliettes of Cardinal Mazarin
At first, on arriving at the door through which Mazarin had passed, d’Artagnan tried in vain to open it, but on the powerful shoulder of Porthos being applied to one of the panels, which gave way, d’Artagnan introduced the point of his sword between the bolt and the staple of the lock. The bolt gave way and the door opened.
“As I told you, everything can be attained, Porthos, women and doors, by proceeding with gentleness.”
“You’re a great moralist, and that’s the fact,” said Porthos.
They entered; behind a glass window, by the light of the cardinal’s lantern, which had been placed on the floor in the midst of the gallery, they saw the orange and pomegranate trees of the castle of Rueil, in long lines, forming one great alley and two smaller side alleys.
“No cardinal!” said d’Artagnan, “but only his lantern; where the devil, then, is he?”
Exploring, however, one of the side wings of the gallery, after making a sign to Porthos to explore the other, he saw, all at once, at his left, a tub containing an orange tree, which had been pushed out of its place and in its place an open aperture.
Ten men would have found difficulty in moving that tub, but by some mechanical contrivance it had turned with the flagstone on which
