"Must I give you up my sword? I warn you that it is long and heavy; you had better let me wear if to the Louvre: I feel quite lost in the streets without a sword, and you would be more at a loss that I should, with two."
"The king has given me no orders about it," replied the Swiss, "so keep your sword."
"Well, that is very polite on the part of the king. Let us go, at once."
Monsieur Friedisch was not a talker, and D'Artagnan had too many things to think about to say much. From Planchet's shop to the Louvre was not far, - they arrived in ten minutes. It was a dark night. M. de Friedisch wanted to enter by the wicket. "No," said D'Artagnan, "you would lose time by that; take the little staircase."
The Swiss did as D'Artagnan advised, and conducted him to the vestibule of the king's cabinet. When arrived there, he bowed to his prisoner, and, without saying anything, returned to his post. D'Artagnan had not had time to ask why his sword was not taken from him, when the door of the cabinet opened, and a _valet de chambre_ called, "M. d'Artagnan!"
The musketeer assumed his parade carriage, and entered, with his large eyes wide open, his brow calm, his moustache stiff. The king was seated at a table writing. He did not disturb himself when the step of the musketeer resounded on the floor; he did not even turn his head.
D'Artagnan advanced as far as the middle of the room, and seeing that the king paid no attention to him, and suspecting, besides, that this was nothing but affectation, a sort of tormenting preamble to the explanation that was preparing, he turned his back on the prince, and began to examine the frescoes on the cornices, and the cracks in the ceiling.
This maneuver was accompanied by a little tacit monologue. "Ah! you want to humble me, do you? - you, whom I have seen so young - you, whom I have saved as I would my own child, - you, whom I have served as I would a God - that is to say, for nothing. Wait awhile! wait awhile! you shall see what a man can do who has suffered the air of the fire of the Huguenots, under the beard of monsieur le cardinal - the true cardinal." At this moment Louis turned round.
"Ah! are you there, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" said he.
D'Artagnan saw the movement and imitated it. "Yes, sire," said he.
"Very well; have the goodness to wait till I have cast this up."
D'Artagnan made no reply; he only bowed. "That is polite enough," thought he; "I have nothing to say."
Louis made a violent dash with his pen, and threw it angrily away.
"Ah! go on, work yourself up!" thought the musketeer; "you will put me at my ease. You shall find I did not empty the bag, the other day, at Blois."
Louis rose from his seat, passed his hand over his brow, then, stopping opposite to D'Artagnan, he looked at him with an air at once imperious and kind, "What the devil does he want with me? I wish he would begin!" thought the musketeer.
"Monsieur," said the king, "you know, without doubt, that monsieur le cardinal is dead?"
"I suspected so, sire."
"You know that, consequently, I am master in my own kingdom?"
"That is not a thing that dates from the death of monsieur le cardinal, sire; a man is always master in his own house, when he wishes to be so."
"Yes; but do you not remember all you said to me at Blois?"
"Now we come to it," thought D'Artagnan; "I was not deceived. Well, so much the better, it is a sign that my scent is tolerably keen yet."
"You do not answer me," said Louis.
"Sire, I think I recollect."
"You only think?"
"It is so long ago."
"If you do not remember, I do. You said to me, - listen with attention."
"Ah! I shall listen with all my ears, sire; for it is very likely the conversation will turn in a fashion very interesting to me."
Louis once more looked at the musketeer. The latter smoothed the feather of his hat, then his mustache, and waited bravely. Louis XIV. continued:
"You quitted my service, monsieur, after having told me the whole truth?"
"Yes, sire."
"That is, after having declared to me all you thought to be true, with regard to my mode of thinking and acting. That is always a merit. You began by telling me that you had served my family thirty years, and were fatigued."
"I said so; yes, sire."
"And you afterwards admitted that that fatigue was a pretext, and that discontent was the real cause."
"I was discontented, in fact; but that discontent has never betrayed itself, that I know of, and if, like a man of heart, I have spoken out before your majesty, I have not even thought of the matter before anybody else."
"Do not excuse yourself, D'Artagnan, but continue to listen to me. When ****** me the reproach that you were discontented, you received in reply a promise: - 'Wait.' - Is that not true?"
"Yes, sire, as true as what I told you."
"You answered me, 'Hereafter! No, now, immediately.' Do not excuse yourself, I tell you. It was natural, but you had no charity for your poor prince, Monsieur d'Artagnan."
"Sire! - charity for a king, on the part of a poor soldier!"
"You understand me very well; you knew that I stood in need of it; you knew very well that I was not master; you knew very well that my hope was in the future. Now, you answered me when I spoke of the future, 'My discharge, - and that directly.'"
"That is true," murmured D'Artagnan, biting his mustache.
"You did not flatter me when I was in distress," added Louis.
"But," said D'Artagnan, raising his head nobly, "if I did not flatter your majesty when poor, neither did I betray you. I have shed my blood for nothing; I have watched like a dog at a door, knowing full well that neither bread nor bone would be thrown to me. I, although poor likewise, asked nothing of your majesty but the discharge you speak of."
"I know you are a brave man, but I was a young man, and you ought to have had some indulgence for me. What had you to reproach the king with? – that he left King Charles II. without assistance? - let us say further – that he did not marry Mademoiselle de Mancini?" When saying these words, the king fixed upon the musketeer a searching look.
"Ah! ah!" thought the latter, "he is doing far more than remembering, he divines. The devil!"
