IN THE CARRIAGE OF M. COLBERT.
As Gourville had seen, the king's musketeers were mounting and following
their captain. The latter, who did not like to be confined in his
proceedings, left his brigade under the orders of a lieutenant, and set
off, on his part, upon post horses, recommending his men to use all
diligence. However rapidly they might travel, they could not arrive
before him. He had time, in passing along the Rue des Petits-Champs, to
see a thing which afforded him plenty of food for thought, and
conjecture. He saw M. Colbert coming out from his house to get into his
carriage, which was stationed before the door. In this carriage
D'Artagnan perceived the hoods of two women, and being rather curious,
he wished to know the names of the women concealed beneath these hoods.
To get a glimpse at them, for they kept themselves closely covered up,
he urged his horse so near to the carriage, that he drove him against
the step with such force as to shake everything containing and
contained. The terrified women uttered, the one a faint cry, by which
D'Artagnan recognized a young woman, the other an imprecation, by which
he recognized the vigor and _aplomb_ which half a century bestows. The
hoods were thrown back: one of the women was Madame Vanel, the other was
the Duchesse de Chevreuse. D'Artagnan's eyes were quicker than those of
the ladies; he had seen and known them, while they did not recognize
him; and as they laughed at their fright, pressing each other's hands--
"Humph!" said D'Artagnan, "the old duchesse is not more difficult in her
friendships than she was formerly. She paying her court to the mistress
of M. Colbert! Poor M. Fouquet! that presages you nothing good!"
He rode on. M. Colbert got into his carriage, and this noble trio
commenced a sufficiently slow pilgrimage toward the wood of Vincennes.
Madame de Chevreuse set down Madame Vanel at her husband's house, and,
left alone with M. Colbert, she chatted upon affairs, while continuing
her ride. She had an inexhaustible fund of conversation, had that dear
duchesse, and as she always talked for the ill of others, always with a
view to her own good, her conversation amused her interlocutor, and did
not fail to leave a favorable impression behind.
She taught Colbert, who, poor man! was ignorant of it, how great a
minister he was, and how Fouquet would soon become nothing. She promised
to rally around him, when he should become surintendant, all the old
nobility of the kingdom, and questioned him as to the preponderance it
would be proper to allow La Valliere to take. She praised him, she
blamed him, she bewildered him. She showed him the secret of so many
secrets, that, for a moment, Colbert feared he must have to do with the
devil. She proved to him that she held in her hand the Colbert of
to-day, as she had held the Fouquet of yesterday; and as he asked her
very simply the reason of her hatred for the surintendant: "Why do you
yourself hate him?" said she.
"Madame, in politics," replied he, "the differences of system may bring
about divisions between men. M. Fouquet always appeared to me to
practice a system opposed to the true interests of the king."
She interrupted him.--"I will say no more to you about M. Fouquet. The
journey the king is about to take to Nantes will give a good account of
him. M. Fouquet, for me, is a man quite gone by--and for you also."
Colbert made no reply. "On his return from Nantes," continued the
duchesse, "the king, who is only anxious for a pretext, will find that
the States have not behaved well--that they have made too few
sacrifices. The States will say that the imposts are too heavy, and that
the surintendant has ruined them. The king will lay all the blame on M.
Fouquet, and then--"
"And then?" said Colbert.
"Oh! he will be disgraced. Is not that your opinion?"
Colbert darted a glance at the duchesse, which plainly said: "If M.
Fouquet be only disgraced, you will not be the cause of it."
"Your place, M. Colbert," the duchesse hastened to say, "must be quite a
marked place. Do you perceive any one between the king and yourself,
after the fall of M. Fouquet?"
"I do not understand," said he.
"You will understand. To what does your ambition aspire?"
"I have none."
"It was useless then to overthrow the surintendant, Monsieur Colbert.
That is idle."
"I had the honor to tell you, Madame--"
"Oh! yes, I know, all about the interest of the king--but, if you
please, we will speak of your own."
"Mine! that is to say the affairs of his majesty."
"In short, are you, or are you not ruining M. Fouquet? Answer without
evasion."
"Madame, I ruin nobody."
"I cannot then comprehend why you should purchase of me the letters of
M. Mazarin concerning M. Fouquet. Neither can I conceive why you have
laid those letters before the king."
Colbert, half stupefied, looked at the duchesse with an air of
constraint.
"Madame," said he, "I can less easily conceive how you, who received the
money, can reproach me on that head."
"That is," said the old duchesse, "because we must will that which we
wish for, unless we are not able to obtain what we wish."
"_Will!_" said Colbert, quite confounded by such coarse logic.
"You are not able, hein! Speak."
"I am not able, I allow, to destroy certain influences near the king."
"Which combat for M. Fouquet? What are they? Stop, let me help you."
"Do, madame."
"La Valliere?"
"Oh! very little influence; no knowledge of business, and small means.
M. Fouquet has paid his court to her."
"To defend him would be to accuse herself, would it not?"
"I think it would."
"There is still another influence, what do you say to that?"
"Is it considerable?"
"The queen-mother, perhaps?"
"Her majesty, the queen-mother, has for M. Fouquet a weakness very
prejudicial to her son."
"Never believe that," said the old duchess, smiling.
"Oh!" said Colbert, with incredulity, "I have often experienced it."
"Formerly?"
"Very recently, madame, at Vaux. It was she who prevented the king from
having M. Fouquet arrested."
"People do not always entertain the same opinions, my dear monsieur.
That which the queen may have wished recently, she would not, perhaps,
to-day."
"And why not?" said Colbert, astonished.
"Oh! the reason is of very little consequence."
"On the contrary, I think it is of great consequence; for, if I were
certain of not displeasing her majesty the queen-mother, all my scruples
would be removed."
"Well! have you never heard talk of a certain secret?"
"A secret?"
"Call it what you like. In short, the queen-mother has conceived a
horror for all those who have participated, in one fashion or another,
in the discovery of this secret, and M. Fouquet, I believe to be one of
these."
"Then," said Colbert, "we may be sure of the assent of the
queen-mother?"
"I have just left her majesty, and she assures me so."
"So be it then, madame."
"But there is something further: do you happen to know a man who was the
intimate friend of M. Fouquet, a M. d'Herblay, a bishop, I believe?"
"Bishop of Vannes."
"Well! this M. d'Herblay, who also knew the secret, the queen-mother is
having him pursued with the utmost rancor."
"Indeed!"
"So hotly pursued, that if he were dead she would not be satisfied with
anything less than his head, to satisfy her he would never speak
again."
"And is that the desire of the queen-mother?"
"An order is given for it."
"This Monsieur d'Herblay shall be sought for, madame."
"Oh! it is well known where he is."
Colbert looked at the duchesse.
"Say where, madame."
"He is at Belle-Isle-en-Mer."
"At the residence of M. Fouquet?"
"At the residence of M. Fouquet."
"He shall be taken."
It was now the duchesse's turn to smile. "Do not fancy that so easy,"
said she, "and do not promise it so lightly."
"Why not, madame?"
"Because M. d'Herblay is not one of those people who can be taken just
when you please."
"He is a rebel, then!"
"Oh! Monsieur Colbert, we folks have passed all our lives in making
rebels, and yet you see plainly, that so far from being taken, we take
others."
Colbert fixed upon the old duchesse one of those fierce looks of which
no words can convey the expression, accompanied by a firmness which was
not wanting in grandeur. "The times are gone," said he, "in which
subjects gained duchies by making war against the king of France. If M.
d'Herblay conspires, he will perish on the scaffold. That will give, or
will not give, pleasure to his enemies--that is of very little
importance to _us_."
And this _us_, a strange word in the mouth of Colbert, made the duchesse
thoughtful for a moment. She caught herself reckoning inwardly with this
man.--Colbert had regained his superiority in the conversation, and he
was desirous of keeping it.
"You ask me, madame," he said, "to have this M. d'Herblay arrested?"
"I!--I ask you nothing of the kind!"
"I thought you did, madame. But as I have been mistaken, we will leave
him alone; the king has said nothing about him."
The duchesse bit her nails.
"Besides," continued Colbert, "what a poor capture would this bishop
be! A bishop game for a king! Oh! no, no; I will not even take the least
notice of him."
The hatred of the duchesse now discovered itself.
"Game for a woman!" said she, "and the queen is a woman. If she wishes
to have M. d'Herblay arrested, she has her reasons for it. Besides, is
not M. d'Herblay the friend of him who is destined to fall?"
"Oh! never mind that," said Colbert. "This man shall be spared, if he is
not the enemy of the king. Is that displeasing to you?"
"I say nothing."
"Yes--you wish to see him in prison, in the Bastille for instance."
"I believe a secret better concealed behind the walls of the Bastille
than behind those of Belle-Isle."
"I will speak to the king about it; he will clear up the point."
"And while wailing for that enlightenment, Monsieur l'Eveque de Vannes
will have escaped. I would do so."
"Escaped! he! and whither would he escape? Europe is ours, in will, if
not in fact."
"He will always find an asylum, monsieur. It is evident you know nothing
of the man you have to do with. You do not know D'Herblay; you did not
know Aramis. He was one of those four musketeers who, under the late
king, made Cardinal de Richelieu tremble, and who, during the regency,
gave so much trouble to Monseigneur Mazarin."
"But, madame, what can he do, unless he has a kingdom to back him?"
"He has one, monsieur."
"A kingdom, he! what Monsieur d'Herblay?"
"I repeat to you, monsieur, that if he wants a kingdom, he either has
it, or will have it."
"Well, as you are so earnest that this rebel should not escape, madame,
I promise you he shall not escape."
"Belle-Isle is fortified, M. Colbert, and fortified by him."
"If Belle-Isle were also defended by him, Belle-Isle is not impregnable;
and if Monsieur l'Eveque de Vannes is shut up in Belle-Isle, well,
madame, the place will be besieged, and he will be taken."
"You may be very certain, monsieur, that the zeal which you display for
the interests of the queen-mother will affect her majesty warmly, and
that you will be magnificently rewarded for it; but what shall I tell
her of your projects respecting this man?"
"That when once taken, he shall be shut up in a fortress from which her
secret shall never escape."
"Very well, Monsieur Colbert, and we may say, that, dating from this
instant, we have formed a solid alliance; that is, you and I, and that I
am perfectly at your service."
"It is I, madame, who place myself at yours. This Chevalier d'Herblay is
a kind of Spanish spy, is he not?"
"More than that."
"A secret ambassador!"
"Higher still."
"Stop--King Philip III. of Spain is a bigot. He is, perhaps, the
confessor of Philip III."
"You must go much higher than that."
"Mordieu!" cried Colbert, who forgot himself so far as to swear in the
presence of this great lady, of this old friend of the queen-mother--of
the Duchesse de Chevreuse, in short. "He must then be the general of the
Jesuits?"
"I believe you have guessed at last," replied the duchesse.
"Ah! then, madame, this man will ruin us all if we do not ruin him; and
we must make haste to do it, too."
"That was my opinion, monsieur, but I did not dare to give it you."
"And it is fortunate for us that he has attacked the throne, and not
us."
"But, mark this well, M. Colbert. M. d'Herblay is never discouraged; and
if he has missed one blow, he will be sure to make another: he will
begin again. If he has allowed an opportunity to escape of making a king
for himself, sooner or later, he will make another, of whom, to a
certainty, you will not be prime minister."
Colbert knitted his brow with a menacing expression.
"I feel assured that a prison will settle this affair for us, madame, in
a manner satisfactory for both." The duchesse smiled again.
"Oh! if you knew," said she, "how many times Aramis has got out of
prison!"
"Oh!" replied Colbert, "we will take care he shall not get out this
time."
"But you have not attended to what I said to you just now. Do you
remember that Aramis was one of the four invincibles whom Richelieu
dreaded? And at that period the four musketeers were not in possession
of that which they have now--money and experience."
Colbert bit his lips.
"We will renounce the idea of the prison," said he, in a lower tone; "we
will find a retreat from which the invincible will not possibly escape."
"That is well spoken, our ally!" replied the duchesse. "But it is
getting late; had we not better return?"
"The more willingly, madame, from my having my preparations to make for
setting out with the king."
"To Paris!" cried the duchesse to the coachman.
And the carriage returned toward the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, after the
conclusion of the treaty which gave up to death the last friend of
Fouquet, the last defender of Belle-Isle, the ancient friend of Marie
Michon, the new enemy of the duchesse.