“I listen to you, and I wonder at you, sir,” said the queen. “In fact, I have rarely seen such excess of impudence.”
“Your Majesty, on your side,” said d’Artagnan, “is as much mistaken as to our intentions as the Cardinal Mazarin has always been.”
“You are in error, sir,” answered the queen. “I am so little mistaken that in ten minutes you shall be arrested, and in an hour I shall set off at the head of my army to release my minister.”
“I am sure Your Majesty will not commit such an act of imprudence, first, because it would be useless and would produce the most disastrous results. Before he could be possibly set free the cardinal would be dead; and indeed, so convinced is he of this, that he entreated me, should I find Your Majesty disposed to act in this way, to do all I could to induce you to change your resolution.”
“Well, then, I will content myself with arresting you!”
“Madame, the possibility of my arrest has been foreseen, and should I not have returned by tomorrow, at a certain hour the next day the cardinal will be brought to Paris and delivered to the parliament.”
“It is evident, sir, that your position has kept you out of relation to men and affairs; otherwise you would know that since we left Paris Monsieur le Cardinal has returned thither five or six times; that he has there met de Beaufort, de Bouillon, the coadjutor and d’Elbeuf and that not one of them had any desire to arrest him.”
“Your pardon, Madame, I know all that. And therefore my friends will conduct Monsieur le Cardinal neither to de Beaufort, nor to de Bouillon, nor to the coadjutor, nor to d’Elbeuf. These gentlemen wage war on private account, and in buying them up, by granting them what they wished, Monsieur le Cardinal has made a good bargain. He will be delivered to the parliament, members of which can, of course, be bought, but even Monsieur de Mazarin is not rich enough to buy the whole body.”
“I think,” returned Anne of Austria, fixing upon him a glance, which in any woman’s face would have expressed disdain, but in a queen’s, spread terror to those she looked upon, “nay, I perceive you dare to threaten the mother of your sovereign.”
“Madame,” replied d’Artagnan, “I threaten simply and solely because I am obliged to do so. Believe me, Madame, as true a thing as it is that a heart beats in this bosom—a heart devoted to you—believe that you have been the idol of our lives; that we have, as you well know—good Heaven!—risked our lives twenty times for Your Majesty. Have you, then, Madame, no compassion for your servants who for twenty years have vegetated in obscurity, without betraying in a single sigh the solemn and sacred secrets they have had the honor to share with you? Look at me, Madame—at me, whom you accuse of speaking loud and threateningly. What am I? A poor officer, without fortune, without protection, without a future, unless the eye of my queen, which I have sought so long, rests on me for a moment. Look at the Comte de la Fère, a type of nobility, a flower of chivalry. He has taken part against his queen, or rather, against her minister. He has not been unreasonably exacting, it seems to me. Look at Monsieur du Vallon, that faithful soul, that arm of steel, who for twenty years has awaited the word from your lips which will make him in rank what he is in sentiment and in courage. Consider, in short, your people who love you and who yet are famished, who have no other wish than to bless you, and who, nevertheless—no, I am wrong, your subjects, Madame, will never curse you; say one word to them and all will be ended—peace succeed war, joy tears, and happiness to misfortune!”
Anne of Austria looked with wonderment on the warlike countenance of d’Artagnan, which betrayed a singular expression of deep feeling.
“Why did you not say all this before you took action, sir?” she said.
“Because, Madame, it was necessary to prove to Your Majesty one thing of which you doubted—that is, that we still possess amongst us some valor and are worthy of some consideration at your hands.”
“And that valor would shrink from no undertaking, according to what I see.”
“It has hesitated at nothing in the past; why, then, should it be less daring in the future?”
“Then, in case of my refusal, this valor, should a struggle occur, will even go the length of carrying me off in the midst of my court, to deliver me into the hands of the Fronde, as you propose to deliver my minister?”
“We have not thought about it yet, Madame,” answered d’Artagnan, with that Gascon effrontery which had in him the appearance of naivete; “but if we four had resolved upon it we should do it most certainly.”
“I ought,” muttered Anne to herself, “by this time to remember that these men are giants.”
“Alas, Madame!” exclaimed d’Artagnan, “this proves to me that not till today has Your Majesty had a just idea of us.”
“Perhaps,” said Anne; “but that idea, if at last I have it—”
“Your Majesty will do us justice. In doing us justice you will no longer treat us as men of vulgar stamp. You will see in me an ambassador worthy of the high interests he is authorized to discuss with
