BELLE-ISLE-EN-MER.
At the extremity of the mole, which the furious sea beats at evening
tide, two men, holding each other by the arm, were conversing in an
animated and expansive tone, without the possibility of any other human
being hearing their words, borne away, as they were, one by one, by the
gusts of wind, with the white foam swept from the crests of the waves.
The sun had just gone down in the vast sheet of the reddened ocean, like
a gigantic crucible. From time to time, one of these men, turning toward
the east, cast an anxious, inquiring look over the sea. The other,
interrogating the features of his companion, seemed to seek for
information in his looks. Then, both silent, both busied with dismal
thoughts, they resumed their walk. Every one has already perceived that
those two men were our proscribed heroes, Porthos and Aramis, who had
taken refuge in Belle-Isle, since the ruin of their hopes, since the
discomfiture of the vast plan of M. d'Herblay.
"It is of no use your saying anything to the contrary, my dear Aramis,"
repeated Porthos, inhaling vigorously the saline air with which he
filled his powerful chest. "It is of no use, Aramis. The disappearance
of all the fishing-boats that went out two days ago is not an ordinary
circumstance. There has been no storm at sea; the weather has been
constantly calm, not even the slightest gale; and even if we had had a
tempest, all our boats would not have foundered. I repeat, it is
strange. This complete disappearance astonishes me, I tell you."
"True," murmured Aramis. "You are right, friend Porthos; it is true,
there is something strange in it."
"And further," added Porthos, whose ideas the assent of the bishop of
Vannes seemed to enlarge; "and further, have you remarked that if the
boats have perished, not a single plank has been washed ashore?"
"I have remarked that as well as you."
"Have you remarked, besides, that the two only boats we had left in the
whole island, and which I sent in search of the others--"
Aramis here interrupted his companion by a cry, and by so sudden a
movement, that Porthos stopped as if he were stupefied. "What do you
say, Porthos! What!--You have sent the two boats--"
"In search of the others! Yes; to be sure I have," replied Porthos,
quite simply.
"Unhappy man! What have you done? Then we are, indeed, lost," cried the
bishop.
"Lost!--what did you say?" exclaimed the terrified Porthos. "How lost,
Aramis? How are we lost?"
Aramis bit his lips. "Nothing! nothing! Your pardon, I meant to say--"
"What?"
"That if we were inclined--if we took a fancy to make an excursion by
sea, we could not."
"Very good! and why should that vex you? A fine pleasure, ma foi! For my
part, I don't regret it at all. What I regret is certainly not the more
or less amusement we can find at Belle-Isle;--what I regret, Aramis, is
Pierrefonds; is Bracieux; is le Valon; is my beautiful France! Here we
are not in France, my dear friend; we are--I know not where. Oh! I tell
you, in the full sincerity of my soul, and your affection will excuse my
frankness, but I declare to you I am not happy at Belle-Isle. No; in
good truth, I am not happy!"
Aramis breathed a long but stifled sigh. "Dear friend," replied he,
"that is why it is so sad a thing you have sent the two boats we had
left in search of the boats which disappeared two days ago. If you had
not sent them away, we would have departed."
"'Departed!' And the orders, Aramis?"
"What orders?"
"Parbleu! Why the orders you have been constantly, and on all occasions,
repeating to me--that we were to hold Belle-Isle against the usurper.
You know very well!"
"That is true!" murmured Aramis again.
"You see, then, plainly, my friend, that we could not depart; and that
the sending away of the boats in search of the others is not prejudicial
to us in any way."
Aramis was silent; and his vague glance, luminous as that of a gull,
hovered for a long time over the sea, interrogating space, and seeking
to pierce the very horizon.
"With all that, Aramis," continued Porthos, who adhered to his idea, and
that the more closely from the bishop having found it correct--"with all
that, you give me no explanation about what can have happened to these
unfortunate boats. I am assailed by cries and complaints whichever way I
go. The children cry at seeing the desolation of the women, as if I
could restore the absent husbands and fathers. What do you suppose, my
friend, and what ought I to answer them?"
"Suppose, then, my good Porthos, and say nothing."
This reply did not satisfy Porthos at all. He turned away, grumbling
some words in a very ill humor. Aramis stopped the valiant soldier. "Do
you remember," said he, in a melancholy tone, pressing the two hands of
the giant between his own with an affectionate cordiality, "do you
remember, my friend, that in the glorious days of our youth--do you
remember, Porthos, when we were all strong and valiant--we, and the
other two--if we had then had an inclination to return to France, do you
think this sheet of salt water would have stopped us?"
"Oh!" said Porthos; "but six leagues!"
"If you had seen me get astride of a plank, would you have remained on
land, Porthos?"
"No, pardieu! No! Aramis. But, nowadays, what sort of a plank should we
want, my friend! I, in particular." And the Seigneur de Bracieux cast a
proud glance over his colossal rotundity, with a loud laugh. "And do you
mean seriously to say you are not tired of Belle-Isle also a little, and
that you would not prefer the comforts of your dwelling--of your
espiscopal palace, at Vannes? Come, confess!"
"No," replied Aramis, without daring to look at Porthos.
"Let us stay where we are, then," said his friend, with a sigh; which,
in spite of the efforts he made to restrain it, escaped with a loud
report from his breast. "Let us remain!--let us remain! And yet," added
he, "and yet, if we seriously wished, but that decidedly--if we had a
fixed idea, one firmly taken, to return to France, and there were no
boats--"
"Have you remarked anything, my friend?--that is, since the
disappearance of our barks, during the two days' absence of the
fishermen, not a single small boat has landed on the shores of the
isle?"
"Yes, certainly! you are right. I have remarked it also, and the
observation was the more naturally made, for before the last two fatal
days, we saw barks and shallops arrive by dozens."
"I must inquire," said Aramis, suddenly, and with great agitation. "And
then, if I had a raft constructed--"
"But there are some canoes, my friend; shall I go on board one?"
"A canoe!--a canoe! Can you think of such a thing, Porthos? A canoe to
be upset in. No, no," said the bishop of Vannes; "it is not our trade to
ride upon the waves. We will wait, we will wait."
And Aramis continued walking about with increased agitation. Porthos,
who grew tired of following all the feverish movements of his
friend--Porthos, who, in his calmness and belief, understood nothing of
the sort of exasperation which was betrayed by his continual convulsive
starts--Porthos stopped him. "Let us sit down upon this rock," said he.
"Place yourself there, close to me, Aramis, and I conjure you, for the
last time, to explain to me in a manner I can comprehend--explain to me
what we are doing here."
"Porthos," said Aramis, much embarrassed.
"I know that the false king wished to dethrone the true king. That is a
fact, that I understand. Well--"
"Yes," said Aramis.
"I know that the false king formed the project of selling Belle-Isle to
the English. I understand that too."
"Yes."
"I know that we engineers and captains came and threw ourselves into
Belle-Isle to take the direction of the works, and the command of the
ten companies levied and paid by M. Fouquet, or rather the ten companies
of his son-in-law. All that is plain."
Aramis arose in a state of great impatience. He might be said to be a
lion importuned by a gnat. Porthos held him by the arm. "But what I
cannot understand, what, in spite of all the efforts of my mind, and all
my reflections, I cannot comprehend, and never shall comprehend, is,
that instead of sending us troops, instead of sending us re-enforcements
of men, munitions, and provisions, they leave us without boats, they
leave Belle-Isle without arrivals, without help; it is that instead of
establishing with us a correspondence, whether by signals, or written or
verbal communications, all relations with us are intercepted. Tell me,
Aramis, answer me, or rather, before answering me, will you allow me to
tell you what I have thought? Will you hear what my idea is, what
imagination I have conceived?"
The bishop raised his head. "Well! Aramis," continued Porthos, "I have
thought, I have had an idea, I have imagined that an event has taken
place in France. I dreamed of M. Fouquet all the night; I dreamed of
dead fish, broken eggs, chambers badly furnished, meanly kept. Bad
dreams, my dear D'Herblay; very unlucky, such dreams!"
"Porthos, what is that yonder?" interrupted Aramis, rising suddenly,
and pointing out to his friend a black spot upon the empurpled line of
the water.
"A bark!" said Porthos; "yes, it is a bark! Ah! we shall have some news
at last."
"There are two!" cried the bishop, on discovering another mast; "two!
three! four!"
"Five!" said Porthos, in his turn. "Six! seven! Ah! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!
it is a whole fleet!"
"Our boats returning, probably," said Aramis, very uneasily, in spite of
the assurance he affected.
"They are very large for fishing-boats," observed Porthos, "and do you
not remark, my friend, they come from the Loire?"
"They come from the Loire--yes--"
"And look! everybody here sees them as well as ourselves: look, the
women and children are beginning to get upon the jetty."
An old fisherman passed. "Are those our barks, yonder?" asked Aramis.
The old man looked steadily into the horizon.
"No, monseigneur," he replied, "they are lighter boats in the king's
service."
"Boats in the royal service?" replied Aramis, starting. "How do you know
that?" said he.
"By the flag."
"But," said Porthos, "the boat is scarcely visible; how the devil, my
friend, can you distinguish the flag?"
"I see there is one," replied the old man; "our boats, or trade
lighters, do not carry any. That sort of craft is generally used for the
transport of troops."
"Ah!" said Aramis.
"Vivat!" cried Porthos, "they are sending us re-enforcements, don't you
think they are, Aramis?"
"Probably."
"Unless it is the English coming."
"By the Loire? That would have an ill look. Porthos: for they must have
come through Paris!"
"You are right: they are re-enforcements, decidedly, or provisions."
Aramis leaned his head upon his hands and made no reply. Then, all at
once--"Porthos," said he, "have the alarm sounded."
"The alarm! do you think of such a thing?"
"Yes; and let the cannoniers mount to their batteries, let the
artillerymen be at their pieces, and be particularly watchful of the
coast batteries." Porthos opened his eyes to their widest extent. He
looked attentively at his friend, to convince himself he was in his
proper senses.
"I will do it, my dear Porthos," continued Aramis, in his most bland
tone; "I will go and have the orders executed myself, if you do not go,
my friend."
"Well! I will go instantly!" said Porthos, who went to execute the
orders, casting all the while looks behind him, to see if the bishop of
Vannes were not deceived; and if, on returning to more rational ideas,
he would not recall him. The alarm was sounded, the trumpets brayed and
drums rolled: the great bell of the belfry was put in motion. The dikes
and moles were quickly filled with the curious and soldiers; the matches
sparkled in the hands of the artillerymen, placed behind the large
cannon bedded in their stone carriages. When every man was at his post,
when all the preparations for the defense were made; "Permit, me,
Aramis, to try to comprehend," whispered Porthos, timidly, in Aramis'
ear.
"My dear friend, you will comprehend but too soon," murmured M.
d'Herblay, in reply to this question of his lieutenant.
"The fleet which is coming yonder, with sails unfurled, straight toward
the port of Belle-Isle, is a royal fleet, is it not?"
"But as there are two kings in France, Porthos, to which of these two
kings does this fleet belong?"
"Oh! you open my eyes," replied the giant, stunned by this argument.
And Porthos, for whom the reply of his friend had just opened the eyes,
or rather thickened the bandage which covered his sight, went with his
best speed to the batteries to overlook his people, and exhort every one
to do his duty. In the meantime, Aramis, with his eyes fixed on the
horizon, saw the ships continue to draw nearer. The people and the
soldiers, mounted upon all the summits or irregularities of the rocks,
could distinguish the masts, then the lower sails, and at last the hulls
of the lighters, bearing at the masthead the royal flag of France. It
was quite night when one of these vessels, which had created such a
sensation among the inhabitants of Belle-Isle, was moored within
cannon-shot of the place. It was soon seen, notwithstanding the
darkness, that a sort of agitation reigned on board this vessel, from
the side of which a skiff was lowered, of which the three rowers,
bending to their oars, took the direction of the port, and in a few
instants struck land at the foot of the fort. The commander of this yawl
jumped on shore. He had a letter in his hand, which he waved in the air,
and seemed to wish to communicate with somebody. This man was soon
recognized, by several soldiers, as one of the pilots of the island. He
was the patron of one of the two barks kept back by Aramis, and which
Porthos, in his anxiety with regard to the fate of the fishermen who had
disappeared for two days, had sent in search of the missing boats. He
asked to be conducted to M. d'Herblay. Two soldiers, at a signal from
the sergeant, placed him between them, and escorted him. Aramis was upon
the quay. The envoy presented himself before the bishop of Vannes. The
darkness was almost complete, notwithstanding the flambeaux borne at a
small distance by the soldiers who were following Aramis in his rounds.
"Well, Jonathan, from whom do you come?"
"Monseigneur, from those who captured me."
"Who captured you?"
"You know, monseigneur, we set out in search of our comrades?"
"Yes; and afterward?"
"Well! monseigneur, within a short league we were captured by a
_chasse-marée_ belonging to the king."
"Ah!" said Aramis.
"Of which king?" cried Porthos. Jonathan started.
"Speak!" continued the bishop.
"We were captured, monseigneur, and joined to those who had been taken
yesterday morning."
"What was the cause of the mania for capturing you all?" said Porthos.
"Monsieur, to prevent us from telling you," replied Jonathan.
Porthos was again at a loss to comprehend. "And they have released you
to-day?" asked he.
"That I might tell you they have captured us, monsieur."
"Trouble upon trouble," thought honest Porthos.
During this time Aramis was reflecting.
"Humph!" said he, "then I suppose it is a royal fleet blockading the
coasts?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"Who commands it?"
"The captain of the king's musketeers."
"D'Artagnan?"
"D'Artagnan!" exclaimed Porthos.
"I believe that is the name."
"And did he give you this letter?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"Bring the flambeaux nearer."
"It is his writing," said Porthos. Aramis eagerly read the following
lines:
"Order of the king to take Belle-Isle; or to put the garrison to the
sword, if they resist; order to make prisoners of all the men of the
garrison; signed D'ARTAGNAN who, the day before yesterday,
arrested M. Fouquet, for the purpose of his being sent to the Bastille."
Aramis turned pale, and crushed the paper in his hands.
"What is it?" asked Porthos.
"Nothing, my friend, nothing."
"Tell me, Jonathan?"
"Monseigneur."
"Did you speak to M. d'Artagnan?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"What did he say to you?"
"That for more ample information, he would speak with monseigneur."
"Where?"
"On board his own vessel."
"On board his vessel!" and Porthos repeated, "On board his vessel!"
"M. le mousquetaire!" continued Jonathan, "told me to take you both on
board my canoe, and bring you to him."
"Let us go at once," exclaimed Porthos. "Dear D'Artagnan!"
But Aramis stopped him. "Are you mad?" cried he. "Who knows that it is
not a snare?"
"Of the other king's?" said Porthos, mysteriously.
"A snare, in fact! That's what it is, my friend."
"Very possibly; what is to be done, then? If D'Artagnan sends for us--"
"Who assures you that D'Artagnan sends for us?"
"Yes, but--but his writing--"
"Writing is easily counterfeited. This looks counterfeited--trembling--"
"You are always right; but, in the meantime, we know nothing."
Aramis was silent.
"It is true," said the good Porthos, "we do not want to know anything."
"What shall I do?" asked Jonathan.
"You will return on board this captain's vessel."
"Yes, monseigneur."
"And will tell him that we beg he will himself come into the island."
"Ah! I comprehend!" said Porthos.
"Yes, monseigneur," replied Jonathan; "but if the captain should refuse
to come to Belle-Isle?"
"If he refuses, as we have cannon, we will make use of them."
"What! against D'Artagnan?"
"If it is D'Artagnan, Porthos, he will come. Go, Jonathan, go!"
"Ma foi! I no longer comprehend anything," murmured Porthos.
"I will make you comprehend all, my dear friend; the time for it is
come: sit down upon this gun-carriage, open your ears, and listen well
to me."
"Oh! pardieu! I shall listen, no fear of that."
"May I depart, monsiegneur?" cried Jonathan.
"Yes, begone, and bring back an answer. Allow the canoe to pass, you men
there!" And the canoe pushed off to regain the fleet.
Aramis took Porthos by the hand, and commenced the explanations.