"Monsieur," said Mazarin, "I have just rendered a great service to the monarchy, the greatest I have ever rendered it.You will carry this letter, which proves it, to her majesty the queen-mother, and when she shall have returned it to you, you will lodge it in portfolio B., which is filled with documents and papers relative to my ministry."Brienne went as desired, and, as the letter was unsealed, did not fail to read it on his way.There is likewise no doubt that Bernouin, who was on good terms with everybody, approached so near to the secretary as to be able to read the letter over his shoulder; so that the news spread with such activity through the castle, that Mazarin might have feared it would reach the ears of the queen-mother before M.
de Brienne could convey Louis XIV.'s letter to her.A moment after orders were given for departure, and M.de Conde having been to pay his respects to the king on his pretended rising, inscribed the city of Poitiers upon his tablets, as the place of sojourn and rest for their majesties.
Thus in a few instants was unraveled an intrigue which had covertly occupied all the diplomacies of Europe.It had nothing, however, very clear as a result, but to make a poor lieutenant of musketeers lose his commission and his fortune.It is true, that in exchange he gained his liberty.
We shall soon know how M.d'Artagnan profited by this.For the moment, if the reader will permit us, we shall return to the hostelry of les Medici, of which one of the windows opened at the very moment the orders were given for the departure of the king.
The window that opened was that of one of the rooms of Charles II.The unfortunate prince had passed the night in bitter reflections, his head resting on his hands, and his elbows on the table, whilst Parry, infirm and old, wearied in body and in mind, had fallen asleep in a corner.Asingular fortune was that of this faithful servant, who saw beginning for the second generation the fearful series of misfortunes which had weighed so heavily on the first.When Charles II.had well thought over the fresh defeat he had experienced, when he perfectly comprehended the complete isolation into which he had just fallen, on seeing his fresh hope left behind him, he was seized as with a vertigo, and sank back in the large armchair in which he was seated.Then God took pity on the unhappy prince, and sent to console him sleep, the innocent brother of death.He did not wake till half-past six, that is to say, till the sun shone brightly into his chamber, and Parry, motionless with fear of waking him, was observing with profound grief the eyes of the young man already red with wakefulness, and his cheeks pale with suffering and privations.
At length the noise of some heavy carts descending towards the Loire awakened Charles.He arose, looked around him like a man who has forgotten everything, perceived Parry, shook him by the hand, and commanded him to settle the reckoning with Master Cropole.Master Cropole, being called upon to settle his account with Parry, acquitted himself, it must be allowed, like an honest man; he only made his customary remark, that the two travelers had eaten nothing, which had the double disadvantage of being humiliating for his kitchen, and of forcing him to ask payment for a repast not consumed, but not the less lost.Parry had nothing to say to the contrary, and paid.
"I hope," said the king, "it has not been the same with the horses.I don't see that they have eaten at your expense, and it would be a misfortune for travelers like us, who have a long journey to make, to have our horses fail us."But Cropole, at this doubt, assumed his majestic air, and replied that the stables of les Medici were not less hospitable than its refectory.
The king mounted his horse; his old servant did the same, and both set out towards Paris, without meeting a single person on their road, in the streets or the faubourgs of the city.For the prince the blow was the more severe, as it was a fresh exile.The unfortunates cling to the smallest hopes, as the happy do to the greatest good; and when they are obliged to quit the place where that hope has soothed their hearts, they experience the mortal regret which the banished man feels when he places his foot upon the vessel which is to bear him into exile.It appears that the heart already wounded so many times suffers from the least scratch; it appears that it considers as a good the momentary absence of evil, which is nothing but the absence of pain; and that God, into the most terrible misfortunes, has thrown hope as the drop of water which the rich bad man in hell entreated of Lazarus.
For one instant even the hope of Charles II.had been more than a fugitive joy; -- that was when he found himself so kindly welcomed by his brother king; then it had taken a form that had become a reality; then, all at once, the refusal of Mazarin had reduced the fictitious reality to the state of a dream.This promise of Louis XIV., so soon retracted, had been nothing but a mockery; a mockery like his crown -- like his scepter -- like his friends -- like all that had surrounded his royal childhood, and which had abandoned his proscribed youth.Mockery! everything was a mockery for Charles II.except the cold, black repose promised by death.
Such were the ideas of the unfortunate prince while sitting listlessly upon his horse, to which he abandoned the reins;he rode slowly along beneath the warm May sun, in which the somber misanthropy of the exile perceived a last insult to his grief.
