CROWN AND TIARA.
Aramis was first to descend from the carriage; he held the door open for
the young man. He saw him place his foot on the mossy ground with a
trembling of the whole body, and walk round the carriage with an
unsteady and almost tottering step. It seemed as if the poor prisoner
was unaccustomed to walk on God's earth. It was the 15th of August,
about eleven o'clock at night; thick clouds, portending a tempest,
overspread the heavens, and shrouded all light, and prospect beneath
their heavy folds. The extremities of the avenues were imperceptibly
detached from the copse, by a lighter shadow of opaque gray, which, upon
closer examination, became visible in the midst of the obscurity. But
the fragrance which ascended from the grass, fresher and more
penetrating than that which exhaled from the trees around him; the warm
and balmy air which enveloped him for the first time for many years
past; the ineffable enjoyment of liberty in an open country, spoke to
the prince in so seducing a language, that notwithstanding the great
caution, we would almost say the dissimulation of his character, of
which we have tried to give an idea, he could not restrain his emotion,
and breathed a sigh of joy. Then, by degrees, he raised his aching head
and inhaled the perfumed air, as it was wafted in gentle gusts across
his uplifted face. Crossing his arms on his chest as if to control this
new sensation of delight, he drank in delicious draughts of that
mysterious air which penetrates at night-time through lofty forests. The
sky he was contemplating, the murmuring waters, the moving creatures,
was not this reality? Was not Aramis a madman to suppose that he had
aught else to dream of in this world? Those exciting pictures of country
life, so free from cares, from fears, and troubles, that ocean of happy
days which glitters incessantly before all youthful imaginations, are
real allurements wherewith to fascinate a poor, unhappy prisoner, worn
out by prison life, and emaciated by the close air of the Bastille.
It was the picture, it will be remembered, drawn by Aramis, when he
offered the thousand pistoles which he had with him in the carriage to
the prince, and the enchanted Eden which the deserts of Bas-Poiton hid
from the eyes of the world. Such were the reflections of Aramis as he
watched, with an anxiety impossible to describe, the silent progress of
the emotions of Philippe, whom he perceived gradually becoming more and
more absorbed in his meditations. The young prince was offering up an
inward prayer to Heaven, to be divinely guided in this trying moment,
upon which his life or death depended. It was an anxious time for the
bishop of Vannes, who had never before been so perplexed. His iron will,
accustomed to overcome all obstacles, never finding itself inferior or
vanquished on any occasion, to be foiled in so vast a project from not
having foreseen the influence which a view of Nature in all its
luxuriance would have on the human mind! Aramis, overwhelmed by anxiety,
contemplated with emotion the painful struggle which was taking place in
Philippe's mind. This suspense lasted the whole ten minutes which the
young man had requested. During this space of time, which appeared an
eternity, Philippe continued gazing with an imploring and sorrowful look
toward the heavens; Aramis did not remove the piercing glance he had
fixed on Philippe. Suddenly the young man bowed his head. His thoughts
returned to the earth, his looks perceptibly hardened, his brow
contracted, his mouth assuming an expression of fierce courage; and then
again his look became fixed, but this time it wore a worldly expression,
hardened by covetousness, pride, and strong desire. Aramis' look then
became as soft as it had before been gloomy. Philippe, seizing his hand
in a quick, agitated manner, exclaimed:
"Let us go where the crown of France is to be found!"
"Is this your decision, monseigneur?" asked Aramis.
"It is."
"Irrevocably so?"
Philippe did not even deign to reply. He gazed earnestly at the bishop,
as if to ask him if it were possible for a man to waver after having
once made up his mind.
"Those looks are flashes of fire which portray character," said Aramis,
bowing over Philippe's hand; "you will be great, monseigneur, I will
answer for that."
"Let us resume our conversation. I wished to discuss two points with
you; in the first place, the dangers or the obstacles we may meet with.
That point is decided. The other is the conditions you intend imposing
on me. It is your turn to speak, M. d'Herblay."
"The conditions, monseigneur?"
"Doubtless. You will not allow so mere a trifle to stop me, and you will
not do me the injustice to suppose that I think you have no interest in
this affair. Therefore, without subterfuge or hesitation, tell me the
truth."
"I will do so, monseigneur. Once a king--"
"When will that be?"
"To-morrow evening--I mean in the night."
"Explain yourself."
"When I have asked your highness a question."
"Do so."
"I sent to your highness a man in my confidence, with instructions to
deliver some closely written notes, carefully drawn up, which will
thoroughly acquaint your highness with the different persons who compose
and will compose your court."
"I perused all the notes."
"Attentively?"
"I know them by heart."
"And understood them? Pardon me, but I may venture to ask that question
of a poor, abandoned captive of the Bastille. It will not be requisite
in a week's time to further question a mind like yours, when you will
then be in full possession of liberty and power."
"Interrogate me, then, and I will be a scholar repeating his lesson to
his master."
"We will begin with your family, monseigneur."
"My mother, Anne of Austria! all her sorrows, her painful malady. Oh! I
know her--I know her."
"Your second brother?" asked Aramis, bowing.
"To these notes," replied the prince, "you have added portraits so
faithfully painted, that I am able to recognize the persons whose
characters, manners, and history, you have so carefully portrayed.
Monsieur, my brother, is a fine, dark young man, with a pale face; he
does not love his wife, Henrietta, whom I, Louis XIV., loved a little,
and still flirt with, even although she made me weep on the day she
wished to dismiss Mademoiselle de la Valliere from her service in
disgrace."
"You will have to be careful with regard to watchfulness of the latter,"
said Aramis; "she is sincerely attached to the actual king. The eyes of
a woman who loves are not easily deceived."
"She is fair, has blue eyes, whose affectionate gaze will reveal her
identity. She halts slightly in her gait; she writes a letter every day,
to which I shall have to send an answer by M. de Saint-Aignan.
"Do you know the latter?"
"As if I saw him, and I know the last verses he composed for me, as well
as those I composed in answer to his."
"Very good. Do you know your ministers?"
"Colbert, an ugly, dark-browed man, but intelligent enough; his hair
covering his forehead, a large, heavy, full head; the mortal enemy of M.
Fouquet."
"As for the latter, we need not disturb ourselves about him."
"No; because necessarily you will require me to exile him, I suppose?"
Aramis, struck with admiration at the remark, said, "You will become
very great, monseigneur."
"You see," added the prince, "that I know my lesson by heart, and with
Heaven's assistance, and yours afterward, I shall seldom go wrong."
"You have still a very awkward pair of eyes to deal with, monseigneur."
"Yes; the captain of the musketeers, M. d'Artagnan, your friend."
"Yes; I can well say, my friend."
"He who escorted La Valliere to Le Chaillot; he who delivered up Monk,
fastened in an iron box, to Charles II.; he who so faithfully served my
mother; he to whom the crown of France owes so much that it owes
everything. Do you intend to ask me to exile him also?"
"Never, sire. D'Artagnan is a man to whom, at a certain given time, I
will undertake to reveal everything; but be on your guard with him; for
if he discovers our plot before it is revealed to him, you or I will
certainly be killed or taken. He is a bold, enterprising man."
"I will think it over. Now tell me about M. Fouquet; what do you wish to
be done with regard to him?"
"One moment more. I entreat you, monseigneur; and forgive me, if I seem
to fail in respect in questioning you further."
"It is your duty to do so, and, more than that, your right also."
"Before we pass to M. Fouquet, I should very much regret forgetting
another friend of mine."
"M. de Valon, the Hercules of France, you mean; oh! as far as he is
concerned, his fortune is safe."
"No; it is not he whom I intended to refer to."
"The Comte de la Fere, then."
"And his son, the son of all four of us."
"That poor boy who is dying of love for La Valliere, whom my brother so
disloyally deprived him of? Be easy on that score, I shall know how to
restore him. Tell me only one thing, Monsieur d'Herblay; do men, when
they love, forget the treachery that has been shown them? Can a man ever
forgive the woman who has betrayed him? Is that a French custom, or is
it one of the laws of the human heart?"
"A man who loves deeply, as deeply as Raoul loves Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, finishes by forgetting the fault or crime of the woman he
loves; but I do not know if Raoul will be able to forget."
"I will see after that. Have you anything further to say about your
friend?"
"No; that is all."
"Well, then, now for M. Fouquet. What do you wish me to do for him?"
"To continue him as surintendant, as he has hitherto acted, I entreat
you."
"Be it so; but he is the first minister at present."
"Not quite so."
"A king, ignorant and embarrassed as I shall be, will, as a matter of
course, require a first minister of state."
"Your majesty will require a friend."
"I have only one and that is yourself."
"You will have many others by-and-by, but none so devoted, none so
zealous for your glory."
"You will be my first minister of state."
"Not immediately, monseigneur; for that would give rise to too much
suspicion and astonishment."
"M. de Richelieu, the first minister of my grandmother, Marie de Medici,
was simply bishop of Lucon, as you are bishop of Vannes."
"I perceive that your royal highness has studied my notes to great
advantage; your amazing perspicacity overpowers me with delight."
"I am perfectly aware that M. de Richelieu, by means of the queen's
protection, soon became cardinal."
"It would be better," said Aramis, bowing, "that I should not be
appointed first minister until after your royal highness had procured my
nomination as cardinal."
"You shall be nominated before two months are past, Monsieur d'Herblay.
But that is a matter of very trifling moment; you would not offend me if
you were to ask more than that, and you would cause me serious regret if
you were to limit yourself to that."
"In that case I have something still further to hope for, monseigneur."
"Speak! speak!"
"M. Fouquet will not keep long at the head of affairs, he will soon get
old. He is fond of pleasure, consistently so with his labors, thanks to
that amount of youthfulness which he still retains; but this
youthfulness will disappear at the approach of the first serious
annoyance, or at the first illness he may experience. We will spare him
the annoyance, because he is an agreeable and noble-hearted man; but we
cannot save him from ill-health. So it is determined. When you shall
have paid all M. Fouquet's debts, and restored the finances to a sound
condition, M. Fouquet will be able to remain the sovereign ruler in his
little court of poets and painters, but we shall have made him rich.
When that has been done, and I shall have become your royal highness's
prime minister, I shall be able to think of my own interests and yours."
The young man looked at his interrogator.
"M. de Richelieu, of whom we were speaking just now, was very blamable
in the fixed idea he had of governing France alone, unaided. He allowed
two kings, the King Louis XIII. and himself, to be seated upon the same
throne, while he might have installed them more conveniently upon two
separate and distinct thrones."
"Upon two thrones?" said the young man, thoughtfully.
"In fact," pursued Aramis, quietly, "a cardinal, prime minister of
France, assisted by the favor and by the countenance of his Most
Christian Majesty the the king of France, a cardinal to whom the king
his master lends the treasures of the state, his arm, his counsel, such
a man would be acting with twofold injustice in applying these mighty
resources to France alone. Besides," added Aramis, "you will not be a
king such as your father was; delicate in health, slow in judgment, whom
all things wearied; you will be a king governing by your brain and by
your sword; you would have in the government of the state no more than
you could manage unaided; I should only interfere with you. Besides, our
friendship ought never to be, I do not say impaired, but in any way
affected, by a secret thought. I shall have given you the throne of
France, you will confer on me the throne of St. Peter. Whenever your
loyal, firm, and mailed hand shall have joined in ties of intimate
association the hand of a pope such as I shall be, neither Charles the
Fifth, who owned two-thirds of the habitable globe, nor Charlemagne, who
possessed it entirely, will be able to reach to half your stature. I
have no alliances, I have no predilections; I will not throw you into
persecutions of heretics, nor will I cast you into the troubled waters
of family dissension; I will simply say to you: The whole universe is
our own: for me the minds of men, for you their bodies. And as I shall
be the first to die, you will have my inheritance. What do you say of my
plan, monseigneur?"
"I say that you render me happy and proud, for no other reason than that
of having comprehended you thoroughly. Monsieur d'Herblay, you shall be
cardinal, and when cardinal, my prime minister; and then you will point
out to me the necessary steps to be taken to secure your election as
pope, and I will take them. You can ask what guarantees from me you
please."
"It is useless. I shall never act except in such a manner that you are
the gainer; I shall never ascend the ladder of fortune, fame, or
position, until I shall have first seen you placed upon the round of the
ladder immediately above me; I shall always hold myself sufficiently
aloof from you to escape incurring your jealousy, sufficiently near to
sustain your personal advantage and to watch over your friendship. All
the contracts in the world are easily violated because the interest
included in them inclines more to one side than to another. With us,
however, it will never be the case; I have no need of any guarantees."
"And so--my brother--will disappear?"
"Simply. We will remove him from his bed by means of a plank which
yields to the pressure of the finger. Having retired to rest as a
crowned sovereign, he will awaken in captivity. Alone you will rule from
that moment, and you will have no interest dearer and better than that
of keeping me near you."
"I believe it. There is my hand on it, Monsieur d'Herblay."
"Allow me to kneel before you, sire, most respectfully. We will embrace
each other on the day we shall both have on our temples, you the crown,
and I the tiara."
"Still embrace me this very day also, and be, for and toward me, more
than great, more than skillful, more than sublime in genius; be kind and
indulgent--be my father."
Aramis was almost overcome as he listened to his voice; he fancied he
detected in his own heart an emotion hitherto unknown to him; but this
impression was speedily removed. "His father!" he thought; "yes, his
Holy Father."
And they resumed their places in the carriage, which sped rapidly along
the road leading to Vaux-le-Vicomte.