THE WINE OF MELUN.
The king had, in point of fact, entered Melun with the intention of
merely passing through the city. The youthful monarch was most eagerly
anxious for amusements; only twice during the journey had he been able
to catch a glimpse of La Valliere, and, suspecting that his only
opportunity of speaking to her would be after nightfall, in the gardens,
and after the ceremonial of reception had been gone through, he had been
very desirous to arrive at Vaux as early as possible. But he reckoned
without his captain of the musketeers, and without M. Colbert. Like
Calypso, who could not be consoled at the departure of Ulysses, our
Gascon could not console himself for not having guessed why Aramis had
asked Percerin to show him the king's new costumes. "There is not a
doubt," he said to himself, "that my friend the bishop of Vannes had
some motive in that;" and then he began to rack his brains most
uselessly. D'Artagnan, so intimately acquainted with all the court
intrigues, who knew the position of Fouquet better even than Fouquet
himself did, had conceived the strangest fancies and suspicions at the
announcement of the fete, which would have ruined a wealthy man, and
which became impossible, utter madness even, for a man so destitute as
he was. And then, the presence of Aramis, who had returned from
Belle-Isle, and been nominated by Monsieur Fouquet inspector-general of
all the arrangements; his perseverance in mixing himself up with all the
surintendant's affairs; his visit to Baisemeaux;--all this suspicious
singularity of conduct had excessively troubled and tormented D'Artagnan
during the last several weeks.
"With men of Aramis' stamp," he said, "one is never the stronger except
sword in hand. So long as Aramis continued a soldier, there was hope of
getting the better of him; but since he has covered his cuirass with a
stole, we are lost. But what can Aramis' object possibly be?" And
D'Artagnan plunged again into deep thought. "What does it matter to me,
after all," he continued, "if his only object is to overthrow M.
Colbert? And what else can he be after?" And D'Artagnan rubbed his
forehead--that fertile land, whence the plowshare of his nails had
turned up so many and such admirable ideas in his time. He, at first,
thought of talking the matter over with Colbert, but his friendship for
Aramis, the oath of earlier days, bound him too strictly. He revolted at
the bare idea of such a thing, and, besides, he hated the financier too
cordially. Then, again, he wished to unburden his mind to the king; but
yet the king would not be able to understand the suspicions, which had
not even a shadow of reality at their base. He resolved to address
himself to Aramis, direct, the first time he met him. "I will take him,"
said the musketeer, "between a couple of candles, suddenly, and when he
least expects it, I will place my hand upon his heart, and he will tell
me--What will he tell me? Yes, he will tell me something, for, mordioux!
there is something in it, I know."
Somewhat calmer, D'Artagnan made every preparation for the journey, and
took the greatest care that the military household of the king, as yet
very inconsiderable in numbers, should be well officered and well
disciplined in its meager and limited proportions. The result was that,
through the captain's arrangements, the king, on arriving at Melun, saw
himself at the head of the musketeers, his Swiss guards, as well as a
picket of the French guards. It might almost have been called a small
army. M. Colbert looked at the troops with great delight: he even wished
there had been a third more in number.
"But why?" said the king.
"In order to show greater honor to M. Fouquet," replied Colbert.
"In order to ruin him the sooner," thought D'Artagnan.
When this little army appeared before Melun, the chief magistrates came
out to meet the king, and to present him with the keys of the city, and
invited him to enter the Hotel de Ville, in order to partake of the wine
of honor. The king, who expected to pass through the city and to proceed
to Vaux without delay, became quite red in the face from vexation.
"Who was fool enough to occasion this delay?" muttered the king, between
his teeth, as the chief magistrate was in the middle of a long address.
"Not I, certainly," replied D'Artagnan, "but I believe it was M.
Colbert."
Colbert, having heard his name pronounced, said, "What was M. d'Artagnan
good enough to say?"
"I was good enough to remark that it was you who stopped the king's
progress, so that he might taste the vin de Brie. Was I right?"
"Quite so, monsieur."
"In that case, then, it was you whom the king called some name or
other."
"What name?"
"I hardly know; but wait a moment--idiot, I think it was--no, no, it was
fool or stupid. Yes; his majesty said that the man who had thought of
the vin de Melun was something of the sort."
D'Artagnan, after this broadside, quietly caressed his mustache; M.
Colbert's large head seemed to become larger and larger than ever.
D'Artagnan, seeing how ugly anger made him, did not stop half-way. The
orator still went on with his speech, while the king's color was visibly
increasing.
"Mordioux!" said the musketeer, coolly, "the king is going to have an
attack of determination of blood to the head. Where the deuce did you
get hold of that idea, Monsieur Colbert? You have no luck."
"Monsieur," said the financier, drawing himself up, "my zeal for the
king's service inspired me with the idea."
"Bah!"
"Monsieur, Melun is a city, an excellent city, which pays well, and
which it would be imprudent to displease."
"There now! I, who do not pretend to be a financier, saw only one idea
in your idea."
"What was that, monsieur?"
"That of causing a little annoyance to M. Fouquet, who is making himself
quite giddy on his donjons yonder, in waiting for us."
This was a home-stroke, hard enough in all conscience. Colbert was
completely thrown out of his saddle by it, and retired, thoroughly
discomfited. Fortunately, the speech was now at an end; the king drank
the wine which was presented to him, and then every one resumed the
progress through the city. The king bit his lips in anger, for the
evening was closing in, and all hope of a walk with La Valliere was at
an end. In order that the whole of the king's household should enter
Vaux, four hours at least were necessary, owing to the different
arrangements. The king, therefore, who was boiling with impatience,
hurried forward as much as possible, in order to reach it before
nightfall. But, at the moment he was setting off again, other and fresh
difficulties arose.
"Is not the king going to sleep at Melun?" said Colbert, in a low tone
of voice, to D'Artagnan.
M. Colbert must have been badly inspired that day, to address himself in
that manner to the chief of the musketeers; for the latter guessed that
the king's intention was very far from that of remaining where he was.
D'Artagnan would not allow him to enter Vaux except he were well and
strongly accompanied; and desired that his majesty would not enter
except with all the escort. On the other hand, he felt that these delays
would irritate that impatient character beyond measure. In what way
could he possibly reconcile these two difficulties? D'Artagnan took up
Colbert's remark, and determined to repeat it to the king.
"Sire," he said, "M. Colbert has been asking me if your majesty does not
intend to sleep at Melun."
"Sleep at Melun! What for?" exclaimed Louis XIV. "Sleep at Melun! Who,
in Heaven's name, can have thought of such a thing when M. Fouquet is
expecting us this evening?"
"It was simply," returned Colbert, quickly, "the fear of causing your
majesty any delay; for, according to established etiquette, you cannot
enter any place, with the exception of your own royal residences, until
the soldiers' quarters have been marked out by the quartermaster, and
the garrison properly distributed."
D'Artagnan listened with the greatest attention, biting his mustache to
conceal his vexation; and the queens listened attentively also. They
were fatigued, and would have liked to have gone to rest without
proceeding any farther; and, especially, in order to prevent the king
walking about in the evening with M. de Saint-Aignan and the ladies of
the court; for, if etiquette required the princesses to remain within
their own rooms, the ladies of honor, as soon as they had performed the
services required of them, had no restrictions placed upon them, but
were at liberty to walk about as they pleased. It will easily be
conjectured that all these rival interests, gathering together in
vapors, must necessarily produce clouds, and that the clouds would be
followed by a tempest. The king had no mustache to gnaw, and therefore
kept biting the handle of his whip instead, with ill-concealed
impatience. How could he get out of it? D'Artagnan looked as agreeable
as possible, and Colbert as sulky as he could. Whom was there he could
get in a passion with?
"We will consult the queen," said Louis XIV., bowing to the royal
ladies. And this kindness of consideration, which softened
Maria-Theresa's heart, who was of a kind and generous disposition, when
left to her own free will, replied:
"I shall be delighted to do whatever your majesty wishes."
"How long will it take us to get to Vaux?" inquired Anne of Austria, in
slow and measured accents, and placing her hand upon her bosom, where
the seat of her pain lay.
"An hour for your majesties' carriages," said D'Artagnan; "the roads are
tolerably good."
The king looked at him. "And a quarter of an hour for the king," he
hastened to add.
"We should arrive by daylight?" said Louis XIV.
"But the billetting of the king's military escort," objected Colbert,
softly, "will make his majesty lose all the advantage of his speed,
however quick he may be."
"Double ass that you are!" thought D'Artagnan; "if I had any interest or
motive in demolishing your credit, I could do it in ten minutes. If I
were in the king's place," he added, aloud, "I should, in going to M.
Fouquet, leave my escort behind me; I should go to him as a friend; I
should enter accompanied only by my captain of the guards; I should
consider that I was acting more nobly, and should be invested with a
still more sacred character by doing so."
Delight sparkled in the king's eyes. "That is indeed a very good
suggestion. We will go to see a friend as friends; those gentlemen who
are with the carriages can go slowly: but we who are mounted will ride
on." And he rode off, accompanied by all those who were mounted. Colbert
hid his ugly head behind his horse's neck.
"I shall be quits," said D'Artagnan, as he galloped along, "by getting a
little talk with Aramis this evening. And then, M. Fouquet is a man of
honor. Mordioux! I have said so, and it must be so."
And this was the way how, toward seven o'clock in the evening, without
announcing his arrival by the din of trumpets, and without even his
advanced guard, without out-riders or musketeers, the king presented
himself before the gate of Vaux, where Fouquet, who had been informed of
his royal guest's approach, had been waiting for the last half-hour,
with his head uncovered, surrounded by his household and his friends.