WHEREIN D'ARTAGNAN PERCEIVES THAT IT WAS HE WHO WAS MISTAKEN, AND
MANICAMP WHO WAS RIGHT.
The king, determined to be satisfied that no one was listening, went
himself to the door, and then returned precipitately and placed himself
opposite to Manicamp. "And now we are alone, Monsieur de Manicamp,
explain yourself?"
"With the greatest frankness, sire," replied the young man.
"And, in the first place, pray understand," added the king, "that there
is nothing to which I personally attach a greater importance than the
honor of any lady."
"That is the very reason, sire, why I endeavored to study your delicacy
of sentiment and feeling."
"Yes, I understand it all now. You say that it was one of the maids of
honor of my sister-in-law who was the subject of dispute, and that the
person in question, Guiche's adversary, the man, in point of fact, whom
you will not name--"
"But whom M. de Saint-Aignan will name, monsieur."
"Yes; you say, however, that this man has insulted some one belonging to
the household of Madame."
"Yes, sire, Mademoiselle de la Valliere."
"Ah!" said the king, as if he had expected the name, and yet as if its
announcement had caused him a sudden pang; "ah! it was Mademoiselle de
la Valliere who was insulted."
"I do not say precisely that she was insulted, sire."
"But at all events--"
"I merely say that she was spoken of in terms far from respectful."
"A man dares to speak in disrespectful terms of Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, and yet you refuse to tell me the name of the insulter."
"Sire, I thought it was quite understood that your majesty had abandoned
the idea of making me denounce him."
"Perfectly true, monsieur," returned the king, controlling his anger:
"besides, I shall always know in sufficient time the name of the man
whom I shall feel it my duty to punish."
Manicamp perceived that they had returned to the question again. As for
the king, he saw he had allowed himself to be hurried away a little too
far, and he therefore continued: "And I will punish him--not because
there is any question of Mademoiselle de La Valliere, although I esteem
her very highly--but because a lady was the object of the quarrel. And I
intend that ladies shall be respected at my court, and that quarrels
shall be put a stop to altogether."
Manicamp bowed.
"And now, Monsieur de Manicamp," continued the king, "what was said
about Mademoiselle de la Valliere?"
"Cannot your majesty guess?"
"I?"
"Your majesty can imagine the character of the jests in which young men
permit themselves to indulge."
"They very probably said that she was in love with some one?" the king
ventured to remark.
"Probably so."
"But Mademoiselle de la Valliere has a perfect right to love any one she
pleases," said the king.
"That is the very point De Guiche maintained."
"And on account of which he fought, do you mean?"
"Yes, sire, the very sole cause."
The king colored. "And you do not know anything more, then?"
"In what respect, sire?"
"In the very interesting respect which you are now referring to."
"What does your majesty wish to know?"
"Why, the name of the man with whom La Valliere is in love, and whom De
Guiche's adversary disputed her right to love."
"Sire, I know nothing--I have heard nothing--and have learned nothing,
even accidentally; but De Guiche is a noble-hearted fellow, and if,
momentarily, he substituted himself in the place or stead of La
Valliere's protector, it was because that protector was himself of too
exalted a position to undertake her defense."
These words were more than transparent; they made the king blush, but
this time with pleasure. He struck Manicamp gently on the shoulder.
"Well, well, Monsieur de Manicamp, you are not only a ready, witty
fellow, but a brave gentleman besides, and your friend De Guiche is a
paladin quite after my own heart; you will express that to him from me."
"Your majesty forgives me, then?"
"Completely."
"And I am free?"
The king smiled and held out his hand to Manicamp, which he took and
kissed respectfully. "And then," added the king, "you relate stories so
charmingly."
"I, sire!"
"You told me in the most admirable manner the particulars of the
accident which happened to Guiche. I can see the wild boar rushing out
of the wood--I can see the horse fall down, and the boar rush from the
horse to the rider. You do not simply relate a story well, but you
positively paint its incidents."
"Sire, I think your majesty deigns to laugh at my expense."
"On the contrary," said Louis, seriously, "I have so little intention of
laughing, Monsieur de Manicamp, that I wish you to relate this adventure
to every one."
"The adventure of the hunt?"
"Yes; in the same manner you told it to me, without changing a single
word--you understand."
"Perfectly, sire."
"And you will relate it, then?"
"Without losing a minute."
"Very well! and now summon M. d'Artagnan: I hope you are no longer
afraid of him."
"Oh! sire, from the very moment I am sure of your majesty's kind
dispositions, I no longer fear anything!"
"Call him, then," said the king.
Manicamp opened the door, and said, "Gentlemen, the king wishes you to
return." D'Artagnan, Saint-Aignan and Valot entered.
"Gentlemen," said the king, "I summoned you for the purpose of saying
that Monsieur de Manicamp's explanation has entirely satisfied me."
D'Artagnan glanced at Valot and Saint-Aignan, as much as to say, "Well!
did I not tell you so?"
The king led Manicamp to the door, and then in a low tone of voice,
said, "See that M. de Guiche takes good care of himself, and,
particularly that he recovers as soon as possible; I am very desirous of
thanking him in the name of every lady, but let him take special care
that he does not begin again."
"Were he to die a hundred times, sire, he would begin again if your
majesty's honor were in any way called in question."
This remark was direct enough. But we have already said that the incense
of flattery was very pleasing to the king, and, provided he received it,
he was not very particular as to its quality.
"Very well, very well," he said, as he dismissed Manicamp, "I will see
De Guiche myself, and make him listen to reason." And as Manicamp left
the apartment, the king turned round toward the three spectators of this
scene, and said, "Tell me, Monsieur d'Artagnan, how does it happen that
your sight is so imperfect?--you, whose eyes are generally so very
good."
"My sight bad, sire?"
"Certainly."
"It must be the case, since your majesty says so; but in what respect,
may I ask?"
"Why, with regard to what occurred in the Bois-Rochin."
"Ah! ah!"
"Certainly. You pretend to have seen the tracks of two horses, to have
detected the foot-prints of two men; and have described the particulars
of an engagement, which you assert took place. Nothing of the sort
occurred; pure illusion on your part."
"Ah! ah!" said D'Artagnan.
"Exactly the same thing with the galloping to and fro of the horses, and
the other indications of a struggle. It was the struggle of De Guiche
against the wild boar, and absolutely nothing else; only the struggle
was a long and a terrible one, it seems."
"Ah! ah!" continued D'Artagnan.
"And when I think that I almost believed it for a moment; but, then, you
speak with such confidence."
"I admit, sire, that I must have been very short-sighted," said
D'Artagnan, with a readiness of humor which delighted the king.
"You do admit, then?"
"Admit it, sire, most assuredly I do."
"So that now you see the thing--"
"In quite a different light to what I saw it half an hour ago."
"And to what, then, do you attribute this difference in your opinion?"
"Oh! a very simple thing, sire; half an hour ago I returned from the
Bois-Rochin, where I had nothing to light me but a stupid stable
lantern--"
"While now?"
"While now, I have all the wax-lights of your cabinet, and more than
that, your majesty's own eyes, which illuminate everything, like the
blazing sun at noon-day."
The king began to laugh, and Saint-Aignan broke out into convulsions of
merriment.
"It is precisely like M. Valot," said D'Artagnan, resuming the
conversation where the king had left off; "he has been imagining all
along, that, not only was M. de Guiche wounded by a bullet, but still
more, that he extracted it even from his chest."
"Upon my word," said Valot, "I assure you--"
"Now, did you not believe that?" continued D'Artagnan.
"Yes," said Valot, "not only did I believe it, but at this very moment I
would swear it."
"Well, my dear doctor, you have dreamed it."
"I have dreamed it!"
"M. de Guiche's wound--a mere dream; the bullet a dream. So take my
advice, and say no more about it."
"Well said," returned the king; "M. d'Artagnan's advice is very good. Do
not speak of your dream to any one, M. Valot, and upon the word of a
gentleman, you will have no occasion to repent it. Good evening,
gentlemen; a very sad affair indeed is a wild-boar hunt!"
"A very serious thing indeed," repeated D'Artagnan, in a loud voice, "is
a wild-boar hunt!" and he repeated it in every room through which he
passed, and left the chateau, taking Valot with him.
"And now we are alone," said the king to Saint-Aignan, "what is the name
of De Guiche's adversary?" Saint-Aignan looked at the king.
"Oh! do not hesitate," said the king: "you know that I must forgive."
"De Wardes," said Saint-Aignan.
"Very good," said Louis XIV.; and then hastily retiring to his own room,
added to himself, "To forgive is not to forget."