KING AND NOBILITY.
The king endeavored to recover his self-possession as quickly as
possible, in order to meet M. de la Fere with an undisturbed
countenance. He clearly saw it was not mere chance that had induced the
comte's visit, he had some vague impression of its importance; but he
felt that to a man of Athos' tone of mind, to one of his high order of
intellect, his first reception ought not to present anything either
disagreeable or otherwise than kind and courteous. As soon as the king
had satisfied himself that, as far as appearances were concerned, he was
perfectly calm again, he gave directions to the ushers to introduce the
comte. A few minutes afterward Athos, in full court dress, and with his
breast covered with the orders that he alone had the right to wear at
the court of France, presented himself with so grave and solemn an air,
that the king perceived, at the first glance, that he was not deceived
in his anticipations. Louis advanced a step toward the comte, and, with
a smile, held out his hand to him, over which Athos bowed with the air
of the deepest respect.
"Monsieur le Comte de la Fere," said the king, rapidly, "you are so
seldom here, that it is a real piece of good fortune to see you."
Athos bowed and replied, "I should wish always to enjoy the happiness of
being near your majesty."
The tone, however, in which this reply was conveyed, evidently
signified, "I should wish to be one of your majesty's advisers, to save
you the commission of faults." The king felt it so, and determined in
this man's presence to preserve all the advantages which could be
derived from his command over himself, as well as from his rank and
position.
"I see you have something to say to me," he said.
"Had it not been so, I should not have presumed to present myself before
your majesty."
"Speak quickly; I am anxious to satisfy you," returned the king, seating
himself.
"I am persuaded," replied Athos, in a slightly agitated tone of voice,
"that your majesty will give me every satisfaction."
"Ah!" said the king, with a certain haughtiness of manner, "you have
come to lodge a complaint here, then."
"It would be a complaint," returned Athos, "only in the event of your
majesty--, but if you will deign to permit me, sire, I will repeat the
conversation from the very commencement."
"Do so; I am listening."
"Your majesty will remember that at the period of the Duke of
Buckingham's departure, I had the honor of an interview with you."
"At or about that period, I think I remember you did; only with regard
to the subject of the conversation, I have quite forgotten it."
Athos started, as he replied, "I shall have the honor to remind your
majesty of it. It was with regard to a formal demand I had addressed to
you respecting a marriage which M. de Bragelonne wished to contract with
Mademoiselle de la Valliere."
"Ah!" thought the king, "we have come to it now. I remember," he said,
aloud.
"At that period," pursued Athos, "your majesty was so kind and generous
toward M. de Bragelonne and myself, that not a single word which then
fell from your lips has escaped my memory; and, when I asked your
majesty to accord me Mademoiselle de la Valliere's hand for M. de
Bragelonne, you refused."
"Quite true," said Louis, dryly.
"Alleging," Athos hastened to say, "that the young lady had no position
in society." Louis could hardly force himself to listen patiently.
"That," added Athos, "she had but little fortune." The king threw
himself back in his armchair.
"That her extraction was indifferent." A renewed impatience on the part
of the king.
"And little beauty," added Athos, pitilessly. This last bolt buried
itself deep in the king's heart, and made him almost bound from his
seat.
"You have a good memory, monsieur," he said.
"I invariably have, on all occasions when I have had the distinguished
honor of an interview with your majesty," retorted the comte, without
being in the least disconcerted.
"Very good; it is admitted I said all that."
"And I thanked your majesty for your remarks at the time, because they
testified an interest in M. de Bragelonne, which did him much honor."
"And you may possibly remember," said the king, very deliberately, "that
you had the greatest repugnance for this marriage."
"Quite true, sire."
"And that you solicited my permission, much against your own
inclination?"
"Yes, sire."
"And, finally, I remember, for I have a memory nearly as good as your
own; I remember, I say, that you observed at the time: 'I do not believe
that Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves M. de Bragelonne.' Is that true?"
The blow told well, but Athos did not draw back. "Sire," he said, "I
have already begged your majesty's forgiveness; but there are certain
particulars in that conversation which are only intelligible from the
_dénouement_."
"Well, what is the _dénouement_, monsieur?"
"This: your majesty then said, that you would defer the marriage out of
regard for M. de Bragelonne's own interests."
The king remained silent. "M. de Bragelonne is now so exceedingly
unhappy that he cannot any longer defer asking your majesty for a
solution of the matter."
The king turned pale; Athos looked at him with fixed attention.
"And what," said the king, with considerable hesitation, "does M. de
Bragelonne request?"
"Precisely the very thing that I came to ask your majesty for at my last
audience, namely, your majesty's consent to his marriage."
The king remained perfectly silent.
"The questions which referred to the different obstacles in the way are
all now quite removed for us," continued Athos. "Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, without fortune, birth, or beauty, is not the less on that
account the only good match in the world for M. de Bragelonne, since he
loves this young girl."
The king pressed his hands impatiently together. "Does your majesty
hesitate?" inquired the comte, without losing a particle either of his
firmness or his politeness.
"I do not hesitate--I refuse," replied the king.
Athos paused a moment, as if to collect himself: "I have had the honor,"
he said, in a mild tone, "to observe to your majesty that no obstacle
now interferes with M. de Bragelonne's affections, and that his
determination seems unalterable."
"There is my will--and that is an obstacle, I should imagine!"
"That is the most serious of all," Athos replied quickly.
"Ah!"
"And may we, therefore, be permitted to ask your majesty, with the
greatest humility, for your reason for this refusal?"
"The reason!--A question to me!" exclaimed the king.
"A demand, sire!"
The king, leaning with both his hands upon the table, said, in a deep
tone of concentrated passion: "You have lost all recollection of what is
usual at court. At court, please to remember, no one ventures to put a
question to the king."
"Very true, sire; but if men do not question, they conjecture."
"Conjecture! What may that mean, monsieur?"
"Very frequently, sire, conjecture with regard to a particular subject
implies a want of frankness on the part of the king--"
"Monsieur!"
"And a want of confidence on the part of the subject," pursued Athos,
intrepidly.
"You are forgetting yourself," said the king, hurried away by his anger
in spite of his control over himself.
"Sire, I am obliged to seek elsewhere for what I thought I should find
in your majesty. Instead of obtaining a reply from you, I am compelled
to make one for myself."
The king rose. "Monsieur le Comte," he said, "I have now given you all
the time I had at my disposal." This was a dismissal.
"Sire," replied the comte, "I have not yet had time to tell your majesty
what I came with the express object of saying, and I so rarely see your
majesty that I ought to avail myself of the opportunity."
"Just now you spoke of conjectures; you are now becoming offensive,
monsieur."
"Oh, sire! offend your majesty! I? Never! All my life through have I
maintained that kings are above all other men, not only from their rank
and power, but from their nobleness of heart and their true dignity of
mind. I never can bring myself to believe that my sovereign, he who
passed his word to me, did so with a mental reservation."
"What do you mean? What mental reservation do you allude to?"
"I will explain my meaning," said Athos, coldly. "If, in refusing
Mademoiselle de la Valliere to Monsieur de Bragelonne, your majesty had
some other object in view than the happiness and fortune of the
vicomte--"
"You perceive, monsieur, that you are offending me."
"If in requiring the vicomte to delay his marriage your majesty's only
object was to remove the gentleman to whom Mademoiselle de la Valliere
was engaged--"
"Monsieur! monsieur!"
"I have heard it said so in every direction, sire. Your majesty's
affection for Mademoiselle de la Valliere is spoken of on all sides."
The king tore his gloves, which he had been biting for some time. "Woe
to those," he cried, "who interfere in my affairs. I have made up my
mind to take a particular course, and I will break through every
obstacle in my way."
"What obstacle?" said Athos.
The king stopped short, like a horse which, having taken the bit between
his teeth and run away, finds it had slipped back again, and that his
career was checked. "I love Mademoiselle de la Valliere," he said,
suddenly, with mingled nobleness of feeling and passion.
"But," interrupted Athos, "that does not preclude your majesty from
allowing M. de Bragelonne to marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere. The
sacrifice is worthy of so great a monarch; it is fully merited by M. de
Bragelonne, who has already rendered great service to your majesty, and
who may well be regarded as a brave and worthy man. Your majesty,
therefore, in renouncing the affection you entertain, offers a proof at
once of generosity, latitude, and good policy."
"Mademoiselle de la Valliere does not love M. de Bragelonne," said the
king, hoarsely.
"Does your majesty know that to be the case?" remarked Athos, with a
searching look.
"I do know it."
"Since a very short time, then; for, doubtlessly, had your majesty known
it when I first preferred my request, you would have taken the trouble
to inform me of it."
"Since a very short time, truly, monsieur."
Athos remained silent for a moment, and then resumed: "In that case, I
do not understand why your majesty should have sent M. de Bragelonne to
London. That exile, and most properly so too, is a matter of
astonishment to every one who regards your majesty's honor with sincere
affection."
"Who presumes to speak of my honor, Monsieur de la Fere?"
"The king's honor, sire, is made up of the honor of his whole nobility.
Whenever the king offends one of his gentlemen, that is, whenever he
deprives him of the smallest particle of his honor, it is from him, from
the king himself, that that portion of honor is stolen."
"Monsieur de la Fere!" said the king, haughtily.
"Sire, you sent M. de Bragelonne to London either before you were
Mademoiselle de la Valliere's lover, or since you have become so."
The king, irritated beyond measure, especially because he felt that he
was mastered, endeavored to dismiss Athos by a gesture.
"Sire," replied the comte, "I will tell you all; I will not leave your
presence until I have been satisfied either by your majesty or by
myself: satisfied, if you prove to me that you are right--satisfied, if
I prove to you that you are wrong. Nay, sire, you cannot but listen to
me. I am old now, and I am attached to everything that is really great
and really powerful in your kingdom. I am a gentleman who shed my blood
for your father and for yourself, without ever having asked a single
favor either from yourself or from your father. I have never inflicted
the slightest wrong or injury on any one in this world, and kings even
are still my debtors. You cannot but listen to me, I repeat. I have come
to ask you for an account of the honor of one of your servants whom you
have deceived by a falsehood, or betrayed by a want of heart or
judgment. I know that these words irritate your majesty, but the facts
themselves are killing us. I know you are endeavoring to find some means
whereby to chastise me for my frankness; but I know also the
chastisement I will implore God to inflict upon you when I relate to Him
your perjury and my son's unhappiness."
The king during these remarks was walking hurriedly to and fro, his hand
thrust into the breast of his coat, his head haughtily raised, his eyes
blazing with wrath. "Monsieur," he cried suddenly, "if I acted toward
you as the king, you would be already punished; but I am only a man, and
I have the right to love in this world every one who loves me--a
happiness which is so rarely found."
"You cannot pretend to such a right as a man any more than as a king,
sire; or if you intended to exercise that right in a loyal manner, you
should have told M. de Bragelonne so, and not have exiled him."
"I think I am condescending in discussing with you, monsieur!"
interrupted Louis XIV., with that majesty of air and manner which he
alone seemed able to give to his look and his voice.
"I was hoping that you would reply to me," said the comte.
"You shall know my reply, monsieur."
"You already know my thoughts on the subject," was the Comte de la
Fere's answer.
"You have forgotten you are speaking to the king, monsieur. It is a
crime."
"You have forgotten you are destroying the lives of two men, sire. It is
a mortal sin."
"Leave the room."
"Not until I have said this: 'Son of Louis XIII., you begin your reign
badly, for you begin it by abduction and disloyalty! My race--myself
too--are now freed from all that affection and respect toward you, which
I made my son swear to observe in the vaults of Saint-Denis, in the
presence of the relics of your noble forefathers. You are now become our
enemy, sire, and henceforth we have nothing to do save with Heaven
alone, our sole master. Be warned.'"
"Do you threaten?"
"Oh, no," said Athos, sadly, "I have as little bravado as fear in my
soul. The God of whom I spoke to you is now listening to me; He knows
that for the safety and honor of your crown I would even yet shed every
drop of blood which twenty years of civil and foreign warfare have left
in my veins. I can well say, then, that I threaten the king as little as
I threaten the man; but I tell you, sire, you lose two servants; for you
have destroyed faith in the heart of the father, and love in the heart
of the son; the one ceases to believe in the royal word, the other no
longer believes in the loyalty of man, or the purity of woman; the one
is dead to every feeling of respect, the other to obedience. Adieu!"
Thus saying, Athos broke his sword across his knee, slowly placed the
two pieces upon the floor, and saluting the king, who was almost choking
from rage and shame, he quitted the cabinet. Louis, who sat near the
table, completely overwhelmed, was several minutes before he could
collect himself; but he suddenly rose and rang the bell violently. "Tell
M. d'Artagnan to come here," he said to the terrified ushers.