e
messenger was, and recognizing from afar the uniform of the
Guards, he put his horse into a gallop, and rode straight up to
D'Artagnan.  Patrick discreetly kept in the background.

"No misfortune has happened to the queen?" cried Buckingham, the
instant he came up, throwing all his fear and love into the
question.

"I believe not; nevertheless I believe she runs some great peril
from which your Grace alone can extricate her."

"I!" cried Buckingham.  "What is it?  I should be too happy to be
of any service to her.  Speak, speak!"

"Take this letter," said D'Artagnan.

"This letter!  From whom comes this letter?"

"From her Majesty, as I think."

"From her Majesty!" said Buckingham, becoming so pale that
D'Artagnan feared he would faint as he broke the seal.

"What is this rent?" said he, showing D'Artagnan a place where it
had been pierced through.

"Ah," said D'Artagnan, "I did not see that; it was the sword of
the Comte de Wardes which made that hole, when he gave me a good
thrust in the breast."

"You are wounded?" asked Buckingham, as he opened the letter.

"Oh, nothing but a scratch," said D'Artagnan.

"Just heaven, what have I read?" cried the duke.  "Patrick,
remain here, or rather join the king, wherever he may be, and
tell his Majesty that I humbly beg him to excuse me, but an
affair of the greatest importance recalls me to London.  Come,
monsieur, come!" and both set off towards the capital at full
gallop.



21  THE COUNTESS DE WINTER

As they rode along, the duke endeavored to draw from D'Artagnan,
not all that had happened, but what D'Artagnan himself knew.  By
adding all that he heard from the mouth of the young man to his
own remembrances, he was enabled to form a pretty exact idea of a
position of the seriousness of which, for the rest, the queen's
letter, short but explicit, gave him the clue.  But that which
astonished him most was that the cardinal, so deeply interested
in preventing this young man from setting his foot in England,
had not succeeded in arresting him on the road.  It was then,
upon the manifestation of this astonishment, that D'Artagnan
related to him the precaution taken, and how, thanks to the
devotion of his three friends, whom he had left scattered and
bleeding on the road, he had succeeded in coming off with a
single sword thrust, which had pierced the queen's letter and for
which he had repaid M. de Wardes with such terrible coin.  While
he was listening to this recital, delivered with the greatest
simplicity, the duke looked from time to time at the young man
with astonishment, as if he could not comprehend how so much
prudence, courage, and devotedness could be allied with a
countenance which indicated not more than twenty years.

The horses went like the wind, and in a few minutes they were at
the gates of London.  D'Artagnan imagined that on arriving in
town the duke would slacken his pace, but it was not so.  He kept
on his way at the same rate, heedless about upsetting those whom
he met on the road.  In fact, in crossing the city two or three
accidents of this kind happened; but Buckingham did not even turn
his head to see what became of those he had knocked down.
D'Artagnan followed him amid cries which strongly resembled
curses.

On entering the court of his hotel, Buckingham sprang from his
horse, and without thinking what became of the animal, threw the
bridle on his neck, and sprang toward the vestibule.  D'Artagnan
did the same, with a little more concern, however, for the noble
creatures, whose merits he fully appreciated; but he had the
satisfaction of seeing three or four grooms run from the kitchens
and the stables, and busy themselves with the steeds.

The duke walked so fast that D'Artagnan had some trouble in
keeping up with him.  He passed through several apartments, of an
elegance of which even the greatest nobles of France had not even
an idea, and arrived at length in a bedchamber which was at once
a miracle of taste and of richness.  In the alcove of this
chamber was a door concealed in the tapestry which the duke
opened with a little gold key which he wore suspended from his
neck by a chain of the same metal.  With discretion D'Artagnan
remained behind; but at the moment when Buckingham crossed the
threshold, he turned round, and seeing the hesitation of the
young man, "Come in!" cried he, "and if you have the good fortune
to be admitted to her Majesty's presence, tell her what you have
seen."

Encouraged by this invitation, D'Artagnan followed the duke, who
closed the door after them.  The two found themselves in a small
chapel covered with a tapestry of Persian silk worked with gold,
and brilliantly lighted with a vast number of candles.  Over a
species of altar, and beneath a canopy of blue velvet, surmounted
by white and red plumes, was a full-length portrait of Anne of
Austria, so perfect in its resemblance that D'Artagnan uttered a
cry of surprise on beholding it.  One might believe the queen was
about to speak.  On the altar, and beneath the portrait, was the
casket containing the diamond studs.

The duke approached the altar, knelt as a priest might have done
before a crucifix, and opened the casket.  "There, said he,
drawing from the casket a large bow of blue ribbon all sparkling
with diamonds, "there are the precious studs which I have taken
an oath should be buried with me.  The queen have them to me, the
queen requires them again.  Her will be done, like that of God,
in all things."

Then, he began to kiss, one after the other, those dear studs
with which he was about to part.  All at once he uttered a
terrible cry.

"What is the matter?" exclaimed D'Artagnan, anxiously; "what has
happened to you, my Lord?"

"All is lost!" cried Buckingham, becoming as pale as a corpse;
"two of the studs are wanting, there are only ten."

"Can you have lost them, my Lord, or do you think they have been
stolen?"

"They have been stolen," replied the duke, "and it is the
cardinal who has dealt this blow.  Hold; see!  The ribbons which
held them have been cut with scissors."

"If my Lord suspects they have been stolen, perhaps the person
who stole them still has them in his hands."

"Wait, wait!" said the duke.  "The only time I have worn these
studs was at a ball given by the king eight days ago at Windsor.
The Comtesse de Winter, with whom I had quarreled, became
reconciled to me at that ball.  That reconciliation was nothing
but the vengeance of a jealous woman.  I have never seen her from
that day.  The woman is an agent of the cardinal."

"He has agents, then, throughout the world?" cried D'Artagnan.

"Oh, yes," said Buckingham, grating his teeth with rage.  "Yes,
he is a terrible antagonist.  But when is this ball to take
place?"

"Monday next."

"Monday next!  Still five days before us.  That's more time than
we want.  Patrick!" cried the duke, opening the door of the
chapel, "Patrick!"  His confidential valet appeared.

"My jeweler and my secretary."

The valet went out with a mute promptitude which showed him
accustomed to obey blindly and without reply.

But although the jeweler had been mentioned first, it was the
secretary who first made his appearance.  This was simply because
he lived in the hotel.  He found Buckingham seated at a table in
his bedchamber, writing orders with his own hand.

"Mr. Jackson," said he, "go instantly to the Lord Chancellor, and
tell him that I charge him with the execution of these orders.  I
wish them to be promulgated immediately."

"But, my Lord, if the Lord Chancellor interrogates me upon the
motives which may have led your Grace to adopt such an
extraordinary measure, what shall I reply?"

"That such is my pleasure, and that I answer for my will to no
man."

"Will that be the answer," replied the secretary, smiling, "which
he must transmit to his Majesty if, by chance, his Majesty should
have the curiosity to know why no vessel is to leave any of the
ports of Great Britain?"

"You are right, Mr. Jackson," replied Buckingham.  "He will say,
in that case, to the king that I am determined on war, and that
this measure is my first act of hostility against France."

The secretary bowed and retired.

"We are safe on that side," said Buckingham, turning toward
D'Artagnan.  "If the studs are not yet gone to Paris, they will
not arrive till after you."

"How so?"

"I have just placed an embargo on all vessels at present in his
Majesty's ports, and without particular permission, not one dare
life an anchor."

D'Artagnan looked with stupefaction at a man who thus employed
the unlimited power with which he was clothed by the confidence
of a king in the prosecution of his intrigues.  Buckingham saw by
the expression of the young man's face what was passing in his
mind, and he smiled.

"Yes," said he, "yes, Anne of Austria is my true queen.  Upon a
word from her, I would betray my country, I would betray my king,
I would betray my God.  She asked me not to send the Protestants
of La Rochelle the assistance I promised them; I have not done
so.  I broke my word, it is true; but what signifies that?  I
obeyed my love; and have I not been richly paid for that
obedience?  It was to that obedience I owe her portrait."

D'Artagnan was amazed to note by what fragile and unknown threads
the destinies of nations and the lives of men are suspended.  He
was lost in these reflections when the goldsmith entered.  He was
an Irishman--one of the most skillful of his craft, and who
himself confessed that he gained a hundred thousand livres a year
by the Duke of Buckingham.

"Mr. O'Reilly," said the duke, leading him into the chapel, "look
at these diamond studs, and tell me what they are worth apiece."

The goldsmith cast a glance at the elegant manner in which they
were set, calculated, one with another, what the diamonds were
worth, and without hesitation said, "Fifteen hundred pistoles
each, my Lord."

"How many days would it require to make two studs exactly like
them?  You see there are two wanting."

"Eight days, my Lord."

"I will give you three thousand pistoles apiece if I can have
them by the day after tomorrow."

"My Lord, they shall be yours."

"You are a jewel of a man, Mr. O'Reilly; but that is not all.
These studs cannot be trusted to anybody; it must be done in the
palace."

"Impossible, my Lord!  There is no one but myself can so execute
them that one cannot tell the new from the old."

"Therefore, my dear Mr. O'Reilly, you are my prisoner.  And if
you wish ever to leave my palace, you cannot; so make the best of
it.  Name to me such of your workmen as you need, and point out
the tools they must bring."

The goldsmith knew the duke.  He knew all objection would be
useless, and instantly determined how to act.

"May I be permitted to inform my wife?" said he.

"Oh, you may even see her if you like, my dear Mr. O'Reilly.
Your captivity shall be mild, be assured; and as every
inconvenience deserves its indemnification, here is, in addition
to the price of the studs, an order for a thousand pistoles, to
make you forget the annoyance I cause you."

D'Artagnan could not get over the surprise created in him by this
minister, who thus open-handed, sported with men and millions.

As to the goldsmith, he wrote to his wife, sending her the order
for the thousand pistoles, and charging her to send him, in
exchange, his most skillful apprentice, an assortment of
diamonds, of which he gave the names and the weight, and the
necessary tools.

Buckingham conducted the goldsmith to the chamber destined for
him, and which, at the end of half an hour, was transformed into
a workshop.  Then he placed a sentinel at each door, with an
order to admit nobody upon any pretense but his VALET DE CHAMBRE,
Patrick.  We need not add that the goldsmith, O'Reilly, and his
assistant, were prohibited from going out under any pretext.
This point, settled, the duke turned to D'Artagnan.  "Now, my
young friend," said he, "England is all our own.  What do you
wish for?  What do you desire?"

"A bed, my Lord," replied D'Artagnan.  "At present, I confess,
that is the thing I stand most in need of."

Buckingham gave D'Artagnan a chamber adjoining his own.  He
wished to have the young man at hand--not that he at all
mistrusted him, but for the sake of having someone to whom he
could constantly talk of the queen.

In one hour after, the ordinance was published in London that no
vessel bound for France should leave port, not even the packet
boat with letters.  In the eyes of everybody this was a
declaration of war between the two kingdoms.

On the day after the morrow, by eleven o'clock, the two diamond
studs were finished, and they were so completely imitated, so
perfectly alike, that Buckingham could not tell the new ones from
the old ones, and experts in such matters would have been
deceived as he was.  He immediately called D'Artagnan.  "Here,"
said he to him, "are the diamond studs that you came to bring;
and be my witness that I have done all that human power could
do."

"Be satisfied, my Lord, I will tell all that I have seen.  But
does your Grace mean to give me the studs without the casket?"

"The casket would encumber you.  Besides, the casket is the more
precious from being all that is left to me.  You will say that I
keep it."

"I will perform your commission, word for word, my Lord."

"And now," resumed Buckingham, looking earnestly at the young
man, "how shall I ever acquit myself of the debt I owe you?"

D'Artagnan blushed up to the whites of his eyes.  He saw that the
duke was searching for a means of making him accept something and
the idea that the blood of his friends and himself was about to
be paid for with English gold was strangely repugnant to him.

"Let us understand each other, my Lord," replied D'Artagnan, "and
let us make things clear beforehand in order that there may be no
mistake.  I am in the service of the King and Queen of France,
and form part of the company of Monsieur Dessessart, who, as well
as his brother-in-law, Monsieur de Treville, is particularly
attached to their Majesties.  What I have done, then, has been
for the queen, and not at all for your Grace.  And still further,
it is very probable I should not have done anything of this, if
it had not been to make myself agreeable to someone who is my
lady, as the queen is yours."

"Yes," said the duke, smiling, "and I even believe that I know
that other person; it is--"

"My Lord, I have not named her!" interrupted the young man,
warmly.

"That is true," said the duke; "and it is to this person I am
bound to discharge my debt of gratitude."

"You have said, my Lord; for truly, at this moment when there is
question of war, I confess to you that I see nothing in your
Grace but an Englishman, and consequently an enemy whom I should
have much greater pleasure in meeting on the field of battle than
in the park at Windsor of the corridors of the Louvre--all which,
however, will not prevent me from executing to the very point my
commission or from laying down my life, if there be need of it,
to accomplish it; but I repeat it to your Grace, without your
having personally on that account more to thank me for in this
second interview than for what I did for you in the first."

"We say, 'Proud as a Scotsman,'" murmured the Duke of Buckingham.

"And we say, 'Proud as a Gascon,'" replied D'Artagnan.  "The
Gascons are the Scots of France."

D'Artagnan bowed to the duke, and was retiring.

"Well, are you going away in that manner?  Where, and how?"

"That's true!"

"Fore Gad, these Frenchmen have no consideration!"

"I had forgotten that England was an island, and that you were
the king of it."

"Go to the riverside, ask for the brig SUND, and give this letter
to the captain; he will convey you to a little port, where
certainly you are not expected, and which is ordinarily only
frequented by fishermen."

"The name of that port?"

"St. Valery; but listen.  When you have arrived there you will go
to a mean tavern, without a name and without a sign--a mere
fisherman's hut.  You cannot be mistaken; there is but one."

"Afterward?"

"You will ask for the host, and will repeat to him the word
'Forward!'"

"Which means?"

"In French, EN AVANT.  It is the password.  He will give you a
horse all saddled, and will point out to you the road you ought
to take.  You will find, in the same way, four relays on your
route.  If you will give at each of these relays your address in
Paris, the four horses will follow you thither.  You already know
two of them, and you appeared to appreciate them like a judge.
They were those we rode on; and you may rely upon me for the
others not being inferior to them.  These horses are equipped for
the field.  However proud you may be, you will not refuse to
accept one of them, and to request your three companions to
accept the others--that is, in order to make war against us.
Besides, the end justified the means, as you Frenchmen say, does
it not?"

"Yes, my Lord, I accept them," said D'Artagnan; "and if it please
God, we will make a good use of your presents."

"Well, now, your hand, young man.  Perhaps we shall soon meet on
the field of battle; but in the meantime we shall part good
friends, I hope."

"Yes, my Lord; but with the hope of soon becoming enemies."

"Be satisfied; I promise you that."

"I depend upon your word, my Lord."

D'Artagnan bowed to the duke, and made his way as quickly as
possible to the riverside.  Opposite the Tower of London he found
the vessel that had been named to him, delivered his letter to
the captain, who after having it examined by the governor of the
port made immediate preparations to sail.

Fifty vessels were waiting to set out.  Passing alongside one of
them, D'Artagnan fancied he perceived on board it the woman of
Meung--the same whom the unknown gentleman had called Milady, and
whom D'Artagnan had thought so handsome; but thanks to the
current of the stream and a fair wind, his vessel passed so
quickly that he had little more than a glimpse of her.

The next day about nine o'clock in the morning, he landed at St.
Valery.  D'Artagnan went instantly in search of the inn, and
easily discovered it by the riotous noise which resounded from
it.  War between England and France was talked of as near and
certain, and the jolly sailors were having a carousal.

D'Artagnan made his way through the crowd, advanced toward the
host, and pronounced the word "Forward!"  The host instantly made
him a sign to follow, went out with him by a door which opened
into a yard, led him to the stable, where a saddled horse awaited
him, and asked him if he stood in need of anything else.

"I want to know the route I am to follow," said D'Artagnan.

"Go from hence to Blangy, and from Blangy to Neufchatel.  At
Neufchatel, go to the tavern of the Golden Harrow, give the
password to the landlord, and you will find, as you have here, a
horse ready saddled."

"Have I anything to pay?" demanded D'Artagnan.

"Everything is paid," replied the host, "and liberally.  Begone,
and may God guide you!"

"Amen!" cried the young man, and set off at full gallop.

Four hours later he was in Neufchatel.  He strictly followed the
instructions he had received.  At Neufchatel, as at St. Valery,
he found a horse quite ready and awaiting him.  He was about to
remove the pistols from the saddle he had quit to the one he was
about to fill, but he found the holsters furnished with similar
pistols.

"Your address at Paris?"

"Hotel of the Guards, company of Dessessart."

"Enough," replied the questioner.

"Which route must I take?" demanded D'Artagnan, in his turn.

"That of Rouen; but you will leave the city on your right.  You
must stop at the little village of Eccuis, in which there is but
one tavern--the Shield of France.  Don't condemn it from
appearances; you will find a horse in the stables quite as good
as this."

"The same password?"

"Exactly."

"Adieu, master!"

"A good journey, gentlemen!  Do you want anything?"

D'Artagnan shook his head, and set off at full speed.  At Eccuis,
the same scene was repeated.  He found as provident a host and a
fresh horse.  He left his address as he had done before, and set
off again at the same pace for Pontoise.  At Pontoise he changed
his horse for the last time, and at nine o'clock galloped into
the yard of Treville's hotel.  He had made nearly sixty leagues
in little more than twelve hours.

M. de Treville received him as if he had seen him that same
morning; only, when pressing his hand a little more warmly than
usual, he informed him that the company of Dessessart was on duty
at the Louvre, and that he might repair at once to his post.



22  THE BALLET OF LA MERLAISON

On the morrow, nothing was talked of in Paris but the ball which
the aldermen of the city were to give to the king and queen, and
in which their Majesties were to dance the famous La Merlaison--
the favorite ballet of the king.

Eight days had been occupied in preparations at the Hotel de
Ville for this important evening.  The city carpenters had
erected scaffolds upon which the invited ladies were to be
placed; the city grocer had ornamented the chambers with two
hundred FLAMBEAUX if white wax, a piece of luxury unheard of at
that period; and twenty violins were ordered, and the price for
them fixed at double the usual rate, upon condition, said the
report, that they should be played all night.

At ten o'clock in the morning the Sieur de la Coste, ensign in
the king's Guards, followed by two officers and several archers
of that body, came to the city registrar, named Clement, and
demanded of him all the keys of the rooms and offices of the
hotel.  These keys were given up to him instantly.  Each of them
had ticket attached to it, by which it might be recognized; and
from that moment the Sieur de la Coste was charged with the care
of all the doors and all the avenues.

At eleven o'clock came in his turn Duhallier, captain of the
Guards, bringing with him fifty archers, who were distributed
immediately through the Hotel de Ville, at the doors assigned
them.

At three o'clock came two companies of the Guards, one French,
the other Swiss.  The company of French guards was composed of
half of M. Duhallier's men and half of M. Dessessart's men.

At six in the evening the guests began to come.  As fast as they
entered, they were placed in the grand saloon, on the platforms
prepared for them.

At nine o'clock Madame la Premiere Presidente arrived.  As next
to the queen, she was the most considerable personage of the
fete, she was received by the city officials, and placed in a box
opposite to that which the queen was to occupy.

At ten o'clock, the king's collation, consisting of preserves and
other delicacies, was prepared in the little room on the side of
the church of St. Jean, in front of the silver buffet of the
city, which was guarded by four archers.

At midnight great cries and loud acclamations were heard.  It was
the king, who was passing through the streets which led from the
Louvre to the Hotel de Ville, and which were all illuminated with
colored lanterns.

Immediately the alderman, clothed in their cloth robes and
preceded by six sergeants, each holding a FLAMBEAU in his hand,
went to attend upon the king, whom they met on the steps, where
the provost of the merchants made him the speech of welcome--a
compliment to which his Majesty replied with an apology for
coming so late, laying the blame upon the cardinal, who had
detained him till eleven o'clock, talking of affairs of state.

His Majesty, in full dress, was accompanied by his royal
Highness, M. le Comte de Soissons, by the Grand Prior, by the Duc
de Longueville, by the Duc d'Euboeuf, by the Comte d'Harcourt, by
the Comte de la Roche-Guyon, by M. de Liancourt, by M. de
Baradas, by the Comte de Cramail, and by the Chevalier de
Souveray.  Everybody noticed that the king looked dull and
preoccupied.

A private room had been prepared for the king and another for
Monsieur.  In each of these closets were placed masquerade
dresses.  The same had been done for the queen and Madame the
President.  The nobles and ladies of their Majesties' suites were
to dress, two by two, in chambers prepared for the purpose.
Before entering his closet the king desired to be informed the
moment the cardinal arrived.

Half an hour after the entrance of the king, fresh acclamations
were heard; these announced the arrival of the queen.  The
aldermen did as they had done before, and preceded by their
sergeants, advanced to receive their illustrious guest.  The
queen entered the great hall; and it was remarked that, like the
king, she looked dull and even weary.

At the moment she entered, the curtain of a small gallery which
to that time had been closed, was drawn, and the pale face of the
cardinal appeared, he being dresses as a Spanish cavalier.  His
eyes were fixed upon those of the queen, and a smile of terrible
joy passed over his lips; the queen did not wear her diamond
studs.

The queen remained for a short time to receive the compliments of
the city dignitaries and to reply to the salutations of the
ladies.  All at once the king appeared with the cardinal at one
of the doors of the hall.  The cardinal was speaking to him in a
low voice, and the king was very pale.

The king made his way through the crowd without a mask, and the
ribbons of his doublet scarcely tied.  He went straight to the
queen, and in an altered voice said, "Why, madame, have you not
thought proper to wear your diamond studs, when you know it would
give me so much gratification?"

The queen cast a glance around her, and saw the cardinal behind,
with a diabolical smile on his countenance.

"Sire," replied the queen, with a faltering voice, "because, in
the midst of such a crowd as this, I feared some accident might
happen to them."

"And you were wrong, madame.  If I made you that present it was
that you might adorn yourself therewith.  I tell you that you
were wrong."

The voice of the king was tremulous with anger.  Everybody looked
and listened with astonishment, comprehending nothing of what
passed.

"Sire," said the queen, "I can send for them to the Louvre, where
they are, and thus your Majesty's wishes will be complied with."

"Do so, madame, do so, and that at once; for within an hour the
ballet will commence."

The queen bent in token of submission, and followed the ladies
who were to conduct her to her room.  On his part the king
returned to his apartment.

There was a moment of trouble and confusion in the assembly.
Everybody had remarked that something had passed between the king
and queen; but both of them had spoken so low that everybody, out
of respect, withdrew several steps, so that nobody had heard
anything.  The violins began to sound with all their might, but
nobody listened to them.

The king came out first from his room.  He was in a most elegant
hunting costume; and Monsieur and the other nobles were dressed
like him.  This was the costume that best became the king.  So
dressed, he really appeared the first gentleman of his kingdom.

The cardinal drew near to the king, and placed in his hand a
small casket.  The king opened it, and found in it two diamond
studs.

"What does this mean?" demanded he of the cardinal.

"Nothing," replied the latter; "only, if the queen has the studs,
which I very much doubt, count them, sire, and if you only find
ten, ask her Majesty who can have stolen from her the two studs
that are here."

The king looked at the cardinal as if to interrogate him; but he
had not time to address any question to him--a cry of admiration
burst from every mouth.  If the king appeared to be the first
gentleman of his kingdom, the queen was without doubt the most
beautiful woman in France.

It is true that the habit of a huntress became her admirably.
She wore a beaver had with blue feathers, a surtout of gray-pearl
velvet, fastened with diamond clasps, and a petticoat of blue
satin, embroidered with silver.  On her left shoulder sparkled
the diamonds studs, on a bow of the same color as the plumes and
the petticoat.

The king trembled with joy and the cardinal with vexation;
although, distant as they were from the queen, they could not
count the studs.  The queen had them.  The only question was, had
she ten or twelve?

At that moment the violins sounded the signal for the ballet.
The king advanced toward Madame the President, with whom he was
to dance, and his Highness Monsieur with the queen.  They took
their places, and the ballet began.

The king danced facing the queen, and every time he passed by
her, he devoured with his eyes those studs of which he could not
ascertain the number.  A cold sweat covered the brow of the
cardinal.

The ballet lasted an hour, and had sixteen ENTREES.  The ballet
ended amid the applause of the whole assemblage, and everyone
reconducted his lady to her place; but the king took advantage of
the privilege he had of leaving his lady, to advance eagerly
toward the queen.

"I thank you, madame," said he, "for the deference you have shown
to my wishes, but I think you want two of the studs, and I bring
them back to you."

With these words he held out to the queen the two studs the
cardinal had given him.

"How, sire?" cried the young queen, affecting surprise, "you are
giving me, then, two more:  I shall have fourteen."

In fact the king counted them, and the twelve studs were all on
her Majesty's shoulder.

The king called the cardinal.

"What does this mean, Monsieur Cardinal?" asked the king in a
severe tone.

"This means, sire," replied the cardinal, "that I was desirous of
presenting her Majesty with these two studs, and that not daring
to offer them myself, I adopted this means of inducing her to
accept them."

"And I an the more grateful to your Eminence," replied Anne of
Austria, with a smile that proved she was not the dupe of this
ingenious gallantry, "from being certain that these two studs
alone have cost you as much as all the others cost his Majesty."

Then saluting the king and the cardinal, the queen resumed her
way to the chamber in which she had dressed, and where she was to
take off her costume.

The attention which we have been obliged to give, during the
commencement of the chapter, to the illustrious personages we
have introduced into it, has diverted us for an instant from him
to whom Anne of Austria owed the extraordinary triumph she had
obtained over the cardinal; and who, confounded, unknown, lost in
the crowd gathered at one of the doors, looked on at this scene,
comprehensible only to four persons--the king, the queen, his
Eminence, and himself.

The queen had just regained her chamber, and D'Artagnan was about
to retire, when he felt his should lightly touched.  He turned
and saw a young woman, who made him a sign to follow her.  The
face of this young woman was covered with a black velvet mask;
but notwithstanding this precaution, which was in fact taken
rather against others than against him, he at once recognized his
usual guide, the light and intelligent Mme. Bonacieux.

On the evening before, they had scarcely seen each other for a
moment at the apartment of the Swiss guard, Germain, whither
D'Artagnan had sent for her.  The haste which the young woman was
in to convey to the queen the excellent news of the happy return
of her messenger prevented the two lovers from exchanging more
than a few words.  D'Artagnan therefore followed Mme. Bonacieux
moved by a double sentiment--love and curiosity.  All the way,
and in proportion as the corridors became more deserted,
D'Artagnan wished to stop the young woman, seize her and gaze
upon her, were it only for a minute; but quick as a bird she
glided between his hands, and when he wished to speak to her, her
finger placed upon her mouth, with a little imperative gesture
full of grace, reminded him that he was under the command of a
power which he must blindly obey, and which forbade him even to
make the slightest complaint.  At length, after winding about for
a minute or two, Mme. Bonacieux opened the door of a closet,
which was entirely dark, and led D'Artagnan into it.  There she
made a fresh sign of silence, and opened a second door concealed
by tapestry.  The opening of this door disclosed a brilliant
light, and she disappeared.

D'Artagnan remained for a moment motionless, asking himself where
he could be; but soon a ray of light which penetrated through the
chamber, together with the warm and perfumed air which reached
him from the same aperture, the conversation of two of three
ladies in language at once respectful and refined, and the word
"Majesty" several times repeated, indicated clearly that he was
in a closet attached to the queen's apartment.  The young man
waited in comparative darkness and listened.

The queen appeared cheerful and happy, which seemed to astonish
the persons who surrounded her and who were accustomed to see her
almost always sad and full of care.  The queen attributed this
joyous feeling to the beauty of the fete, to the pleasure she had
experienced in the ballet; and as it is not permissible to
contradict a queen, whether she smile or weep, everybody
expatiated on the gallantry of the aldermen of the city of Paris.

Although D'Artagnan did not at all know the queen, he soon
distinguished her voice from the others, at first by a slightly
foreign accent, and next by that tone of domination naturally
impressed upon all royal words.  He heard her approach and
withdraw from the partially open door; and twice or three times
he even saw the shadow of a person intercept the light.

At length a hand and an arm, surpassingly beautiful in their form
and whiteness, glided through the tapestry.  D'Artagnan at once
comprehended that this was his recompense.  He cast himself on
his knees, seized the hand, and touched it respectfully with his
lips.  Then the hand was withdrawn, leaving in his an object
which he perceived to be a ring.  The door immediately closed,
and D'Artagnan found himself again in complete obscurity.

D'Artagnan placed the ring on his finger, and again waited; it
was evident that all was not yet over.  After the reward of his
devotion, that of his love was to come.  Besides, although the
ballet was danced, the evening had scarcely begun.  Supper was to
be served at three, and the clock of St. Jean had struck three
quarters past two.

The sound of voices diminished by degrees in the adjoining
chamber.  The company was then heard departing; then the door of
the closet in which D'Artagnan was, was opened, and Mme.
Bonacieux entered.

"You at last?" cried D'Artagnan.

"Silence!" said the young woman, placing her hand upon his lips;
"silence, and go the same way you came!"

"But where and when shall I see you again?" cried D'Artagnan.

"A note which you will find at home will tell you.  Begone,
begone!"

At these words she opened the door of the corridor, and pushed
D'Artagnan out of the room.  D'Artagnan obeyed like a child,
without the least resistance or objection, which proved that he
was really in love.



23  THE RENDEZVOUS

D'Artagnan ran home immediately, and although it was three
o'clock in the morning and he had some of the worst quarters of
Paris to traverse, he met with no misadventure.  Everyone knows
that drunkards and lovers have a protecting deity.

He found the door of his passage open, sprang up the stairs and
knocked softly in a manner agreed upon between him and his
lackey.  Planchet*, whom he had sent home two hours before from
the Hotel de Ville, telling him to sit up for him, opened the
door for him.

*The reader may ask, "How came Planchet here?" when he was left
"stiff as a rush" in London.  In the intervening time Buckingham
perhaps sent him to Paris, as he did the horses.

"Has anyone brought a letter for me?" asked D'Artagnan, eagerly.

"No one has BROUGHT a letter, monsieur," replied Planchet; "but
one has come of itself."

"What do you mean, blockhead?"

"I mean to say that when I came in, although I had the key of
your apartment in my pocket, and that key had never quit me, I
found a letter on the green table cover in your bedroom."

"And where is that letter?"

"I left it where I found it, monsieur.  It is not natural for
letters to enter people's houses in this manner.  If the window
had been open or even ajar, I should think nothing of it; but,
no--all was hermetically sealed.  Beware, monsieur; there is
certainly some magic underneath."

Meanwhile, the young man had darted in to his chamber, and opened
the letter.  It was from Mme. Bonacieux, and was expressed in
these terms:

"There are many thanks to be offered to you, and to be
transmitted to you.  Be this evening about ten o'clock at St.
Cloud, in front of the pavilion which stands at the corner of the
house of M. d'Estrees.--C.B."

While reading this letter, D'Artagnan felt his heart dilated and
compressed by that delicious spasm which tortures and caresses
the hearts of lovers.

It was the first billet he had received; it was the first
rendezvous that had been granted him.  His heart, swelled by the
intoxication of joy, felt ready to dissolve away at the very gate
of that terrestrial paradise called Love!

"Well, monsieur," said Planchet, who had observed his master grow
read and pale successively, "did I not guess truly?  Is it not
some bad affair?"

"You are mistaken, Planchet," replied D'Artagnan; "and as a
proof, there is a crown to drink my health."

"I am much obliged to Monsieur for the crown he had given me, and
I promise him to follow his instructions exactly; but it is not
the less true that letters which come in this way into shut-up
houses--"

"Fall from heaven, my friend, fall from heaven."

"Then Monsieur is satisfied?" asked Planchet.

"My dear Planchet, I an the happiest of men!"

"And I may profit by Monsieur's happiness, and go to bed?"

"Yes, go."

"May the blessings of heaven fall upon Monsieur!  But it is not
the less true that that letter--"

And Planchet retired, shaking his head with an air of doubt,
which the liberality of D'Artagnan had not entirely effaced.

Left alone, D'Artagnan read and reread his billet.  Then he
kissed and rekissed twenty times the lines traced by the hand of
his beautiful mistress.  At length he went to bed, fell asleep,
and had golden dreams.

At seven o'clock in the morning he arose and called Planchet, who
at the second summons opened the door, his countenance not yet
quite freed from the anxiety of the preceding night.

"Planchet," said D'Artagnan, "I am going out for all day,
perhaps.  You are, therefore, your own master till seven o'clock
in the evening; but at seven o'clock you must hold yourself in
readiness with two horses."

"There!" said Planchet.  "We are going again, it appears, to have
our hides pierced in all sorts of ways."

"You will take your musketoon and your pistols."

"There, now!  Didn't I say so?" cried Planchet.  "I was sure of
it--the cursed letter!"

"Don't be afraid, you idiot; there is nothing in hand but a party
of pleasure."

"Ah, like the charming journey the other day, when it rained
bullets and produced a crop of steel traps!"

"Well, if you are really afraid, Monsieur Planchet," resumed
D'Artagnan, "I will go without you.  I prefer traveling alone to
having a companion who entertains the least fear."

"Monsieur does me wrong," said Planchet; "I thought he had seen
me at work."

"Yes, but I thought perhaps you had worn out all your courage the
first time."

"Monsieur shall see that upon occasion I have some left; only I
beg Monsieur not to be too prodigal of it if he wishes it to last
long."

"Do you believe you have still a certain amount of it to expend
this evening?"

"I hope so, monsieur."

"Well, then, I count on you."

"At the appointed hour I shall be ready; only I believed that
Monsieur had but one horse in the Guard stables."

"Perhaps there is but one at this moment; but by this evening
there will be four."

"It appears that our journey was a remounting journey, then?"

"Exactly so," said D'Artagnan; and nodding to Planchet, he went
out.

M. Bonacieux was at his door.  D'Artagnan's intention was to go
out without speaking to the worthy mercer; but the latter made so
polite and friendly a salutation that his tenant felt obliged,
not only to stop, but to enter into conversation with him.

Besides, how is it possible to avoid a little condescension
toward a husband whose pretty wife has appointed a meeting with
you that same evening at St. Cloud, opposite D'Estrees's
pavilion?  D'Artagnan approached him with the most amiable air he
could assume.

The conversation naturally fell upon the incarceration of the
poor man.  M. Bonacieux, who was ignorant that D'Artagnan had
overheard his conversation with the stranger of Meung, related to
his young tenant the persecutions of that monster, M. de
Laffemas, whom he never ceased to designate, during his account,
by the title of the "cardinal's executioner," and expatiated at
great length upon the Bastille, the bolts, the wickets, the
dungeons, the gratings, the instruments of torture.

D'Artagnan listened to him with exemplary complaisance, and when
he had finished said, "And Madame Bonacieux, do you know who
carried her off?--For I do not forget that I owe to that
unpleasant circumstance the good fortune of having made your
acquaintance."

"Ah!" said Bonacieux, "they took good care not to tell me that;
and my wife, on her part, has sworn to me by all that's sacred
that she does not know.  But you," continued M. Bonacieux, in a
tine of perfect good fellowship, "what has become of you all
these days?  I have not seen you nor your friends, and I don't
think you could gather all that dust that I saw Planchet brush
off your boots yesterday from the pavement of Paris."

"You are right, my dear Monsieur Bonacieux, my friends and I have
been on a little journey."

"Far from here?"

"Oh, Lord, no!  About forty leagues only.  We went to take
Monsieur Athos to the waters of Forges, where my friends still
remain."

"And you have returned, have you not?" replied M. Bonacieux,
giving to his countenance a most sly air.  "A handsome young
fellow like you does not obtain long leaves of absence from his
mistress; and we were impatiently waited for at Paris, were we
not?"

"My faith!" said the young man, laughing, "I confess it, and so
much more the readily, my dear Bonacieux, as I see there is no
concealing anything from you.  Yes, I was expected, and very
impatiently, I acknowledge."

A slight shade passed over the brow of Bonacieux, but so slight
that D'Artagnan did not perceive it.

"And we are going to be recompensed for our diligence?" continued
the mercer, with a trifling alteration in his voice--so trifling,
indeed, that D'Artagnan did not perceive it any more than he had
the momentary shade which, an instant before, had darkened the
countenance of the worthy man.

"Ah, may you be a true prophet!" said D'Artagnan, laughing.

"No; what I say," replied Bonacieux, "is only that I may know
whether I am delaying you."

"Why that question, my dear host?" asked D'Artagnan.  "Do you
intend to sit up for me?"

"No; but since my arrest and the robbery that was committed in my
house, I am alarmed every time I hear a door open, particularly
in the night.  What the deuce can you expect?  I am no
swordsman."

"Well, don't be alarmed if I return at one, two or three o'clock
in the morning; indeed, do not be alarmed if I do not come at
all."

This time Bonacieux became so pale that D'Artagnan could not help
perceiving it, and asked him what was the matter.

"Nothing," replied Bonacieux, "nothing.  Since my misfortunes I
have been subject to faintnesses, which seize me all at once, and
I have just felt a cold shiver.  Pay no attention to it; you have
nothing to occupy yourself with but being happy."

"Then I have full occupation, for I am so."

"Not yet; wait a little!  This evening, you said."

"Well, this evening will come, thank God!  And perhaps you look
for it with as much impatience as I do; perhaps this evening
Madame Bonacieux will visit the conjugal domicile."

"Madame Bonacieux is not at liberty this evening," replied the
husband, seriously; "she is detained at the Louvre this evening
by her duties."

"So much the worse for you, my dear host, so much the worse!
When I am happy, I wish all the world to be so; but it appears
that is not possible."

The young man departed, laughing at the joke, which he thought he
alone could comprehend.

"Amuse yourself well!" replied Bonacieux, in a sepulchral tone.

But D'Artagnan was too far off to hear him; and if he had heard
him in the disposition of mind he then enjoyed, he certainly
would not have remarked it.

He took his way toward the hotel of M. de Treville; his visit of
the day before, it is to be remembered, had been very short and
very little explicative.

He found Treville in a joyful mood.  He had thought the king and
queen charming at the ball.  It is true the cardinal had been
particularly ill-tempered.  He had retired at one o'clock under
the pretense of being indisposed.  As to their Majesties, they
did not return to the Louvre till six o'clock in the morning.

"Now," said Treville, lowering his voice, and looking into every
corner of the apartment to see if they were alone, "now let us
talk about yourself, my young friend; for it is evident that your
happy return has something to do with the joy of the king, the
triumph of the queen, and the humiliation of his Eminence.  You
must look out for yourself."

"What have I to fear," replied D'Artagnan, "as long as I shall
have the luck to enjoy the favor of their Majesties?"

"Everything, believe me.  The cardinal is not the man to forget a
mystification until he has settled account with the mystifier;
and the mystifier appears to me to have the air of being a
certain young Gascon of my acquaintance."

"Do you believe that the cardinal is as well posted as yourself,
and knows that I have been to London?"

"The devil!  You have been to London!  Was it from London you
brought that beautiful diamond that glitters on your finger?
Beware, my dear D'Artagnan!  A present from an enemy is not a
good thing.  Are there not some Latin verses upon that subject?
Stop!"

"Yes, doubtless," replied D'Artagnan, who had never been able to
cram the first rudiments of that language into his head, and who
had by his ignorance driven his master to despair, "yes,
doubtless there is one."

"There certainly is one," said M. de Treville, who had a tincture
of literature, "and Monsieur de Benserade was quoting it to me
the other day.  Stop a minute--ah, this is it:  'Timeo Danaos et
dona ferentes,' which means, 'Beware of the enemy who makes you
presents."

"This diamond does not come from an enemy, monsieur," replied
D'Artagnan, "it comes from the queen."

"From the queen! Oh, oh!" said M. de Treville.  "Why, it is
indeed a true royal jewel, which is worth a thousand pistoles if
it is worth a denier.  By whom did the queen send you this
jewel?"

"She gave it to me herself."

"Where?"

"In the room adjoining the chamber in which she changed her
toilet."

"How?"

"Giving me her hand to kiss."

"You have kissed the queen's hand?" said M. de Treville, looking
earnestly at D'Artagnan.

"Her Majesty did me the honor to grant me that favor."

"And that in the presence of witnesses!  Imprudent, thrice
imprudent!"

"No, monsieur, be satisfied; nobody saw her," replied D'Artagnan,
and he related to M. de Treville how the affair came to pass.

"Oh, the women, the women!" cried the old soldier.  "I know them
by their romantic imagination.  Everything that savors of mystery
charms them.  So you have seen the arm, that was all.  You would
meet the queen, and she would not know who you are?"

"No; but thanks to this diamond," replied the young man.

"Listen," said M. de Treville; "shall I give you counsel, good
counsel, the counsel of a friend?"

"You will do me honor, monsieur," said D'Artagnan.

"Well, then, off to the nearest goldsmith's, and sell that
diamond for the highest price you can get from him.  However much
of a Jew he may be, he will give you at least eight hundred
pistoles.  Pistoles have no name, young man, and that ring has a
terrible one, which may betray him who wears it."

"Sell this ring, a ring which comes from my sovereign?  Never!"
said D'Artagnan.

"Then, at least turn the gem inside, you silly fellow; for
everybody must be aware that a cadet from Gascony does not find
such stones in his mother's jewel case."

"You think, then, I have something to dread?" asked D'Artagnan.

"I mean to say, young man, that he who sleeps over a mine the
match of which is already lighted, may consider himself in safety
in comparison with you."

"The devil!" said D'Artagnan, whom the positive tone of M. de
Treville began to disquiet, "the devil!  What must I do?"

"Above all things be always on you