THE SON OF BISCARRAT.
The Bretons of the isle were very proud of this victory; Aramis did not
encourage them in the feeling.
"What will happen," said he to Porthos, when everybody was gone home,
"will be that the anger of the king will be roused by the account of the
resistance; and that these brave people will be decimated or shot when
they are taken, which cannot fail to take place."
"From which it results, then," said Porthos, "that what we have done is
of no use."
"For the moment it may be of some," replied the bishop, "for we have a
prisoner from whom we shall learn what out enemies are preparing to do."
"Yes, let us interrogate the prisoner," said Porthos, "and the means of
making him speak are very simple. We are going to supper; we will invite
him to join us; when he drinks he will talk."
This was done. The officer was at first rather uneasy, but became
reassured on seeing what sort of men he had to deal with. He gave,
without having any fear of compromising himself, all the details
imaginable of the resignation and departure of D'Artagnan. He explained
how, after that departure, the new leader of the expedition had ordered
a surprise upon Belle-Isle. There his explanations stopped. Aramis and
Porthos exchanged a glance which evinced their despair. No more
dependence to be placed upon the brave imagination of D'Artagnan,
consequently, no more resources in the event of defeat. Aramis,
continuing his interrogations, asked the prisoner what the leaders of
the expedition contemplated doing with the leaders of Belle-Isle.
"The orders are," replied he, "to kill during the combat, and hang
afterward."
Porthos and Aramis looked at each other again, and the color mounted to
their faces.
"I am too light for the gallows," replied Aramis; "people like me are
not hanged."
"And I am too heavy," said Porthos; "people like me break the cord."
"I am sure," said the prisoner, gallantly, "that we could have procured
you what sort of death you preferred."
"A thousand thanks!" said Aramis seriously. Porthos bowed.
"One more cup of wine to your health," said he, drinking himself. From
one subject to another the chat with the officer was prolonged. He was
an intelligent gentleman, and suffered himself to be led away by the
charm of Aramis' wit and Porthos' cordial _bonhomie_.
"Pardon me," said he, "if I address a question to you; but men who are
in their sixth bottle have a clear right to forget themselves a little."
"Address it!" said Porthos; "address it!"
"Speak," said Aramis.
"Were you not, gentlemen, both in the musketeers of the late king?"
"Yes, monsieur, and of the best of them, if you please," said Porthos.
"That is true, I should say even the best of all soldiers, messieurs, if
I did not fear to offend the memory of my father."
"Of your father?" cried Aramis.
"Do you know what my name is?"
"Ma foi! no, monsieur; but you can tell us, and--"
"I am called Georges de Biscarrat."
"Oh!" cried Porthos, in his turn, "Biscarrat! Do you remember that name,
Aramis?"
"Biscarrat!" reflected the bishop. "It seems to me--"
"Try to recollect, monsieur," said the officer.
"Pardieu! that won't take me long," said Porthos. "Biscarrat--called
cardinal--one of the four who interrupted us the day on which we formed
our friendship with D'Artagnan, sword in hand."
"Precisely, gentlemen."
"The only one," cried Aramis, eagerly, "we did not wound."
"Consequently, a good blade," said the prisoner.
"That's true! very true!" exclaimed both the friends together. "Ma foi!
Monsieur Biscarrat, we are delighted to make the acquaintance of such a
brave man's son."
Biscarrat pressed the hands held out to him by the two ancient
musketeers. Aramis looked at Porthos as much as to say:
"Here is a man who will help us, and without delay."
"Confess, monsieur," said he, "that it is good to have once been a good
man."
"My father always said so, monsieur."
"Confess, likewise, that it is a sad circumstance in which you find
yourself, of falling in with men destined to be shot or hanged, and to
learn that these men are old acquaintances--old hereditary
acquaintances."
"Oh! you are not reserved for such a frightful fate as that, messieurs
and friends!" said the young man, warmly.
"Bah! you said so yourself."
"I said so just now, when I did not know you; but now that I know you, I
say--you will avoid this dismal fate, if you like."
"How--if we like!" cried Aramis, whose eyes beamed with intelligence as
he looked alternately at the prisoner and Porthos.
"Provided," continued Porthos, looking, in his turn, with noble
intrepidity at M. Biscarrat and the bishop--"provided nothing
disgraceful be required of us."
"Nothing at all will be required of you, gentlemen," replied the
officer--"what should they ask of you? If they find you they will kill
you, that is a settled thing; try, then, gentlemen, to prevent their
finding you."
"I don't think I am mistaken," said Porthos, with dignity; "but it
appears evident to me that if they want to find us, they must come and
seek us here."
"In that you are perfectly right, my worthy friend," replied Aramis,
constantly consulting with his looks the countenance of Biscarrat, who
was silent and constrained. "You wish, M. de Biscarrat, to say something
to us, to make us some overture, and you dare not--is not that true?"
"Ah! gentlemen and friends! it is because in speaking I betray my duty.
But, hark! I hear a voice which liberates mine by dominating over it."
"Cannon?" cried Porthos.
"Cannon and musketry, too!" cried the bishop.
On hearing at a distance, among the rocks, these sinister reports of a
combat which they thought had ceased--"What can that be!" asked Porthos.
"Eh! pardieu!" cried Aramis; "this is just what I expected."
"What is that?"
"The attack made by you was nothing but a feint; is not that true,
monsieur? And while your companions allowed themselves to be repulsed,
you were certain of effecting a landing on the other side of the
island."
"Oh! several, monsieur."
"We are lost then," said the bishop of Vannes, quietly.
"Lost! that is possible," replied the Seigneur de Pierrefonds, "but we
are not taken or hanged." And so saying, he rose from the table, went
straight to the wall, and coolly took down his sword and pistols, which
he examined with the care of an old soldier who is preparing for battle,
and who feels that his life, in a great measure, depends upon the
excellence and the good condition of his arms.
At the report of the cannon, at the news of the surprise which might
deliver up the isle to the royal troops, the terrified crowd rushed
precipitately to the fort to demand assistance and advice from their
leaders. Aramis, pale and downcast, between two flambeaux, showed
himself at the window which looked into the principal court, full of
soldiers waiting for orders and bewildered inhabitants imploring succor.
"My friends," said D'Herblay, in a grave and sonorous voice, "M.
Fouquet, your protector, your friend, your father, has been arrested by
an order of the king, and thrown into the Bastille." A long cry of fury
and menace came floating up to the window at which the bishop stood, and
enveloped him in a vibrating fluid.
"Avenge Monsieur Fouquet!" cried the most excited of his hearers, "and
death to the royalists!"
"No, my friends," replied Aramis, solemnly; "no, my friends; no
resistance. The king is master in his kingdom. The king is the mandatory
of God. The king and God have struck M. Fouquet. Humble yourselves
before the hand of God. Love God and the king, who have struck M.
Fouquet. But do not avenge your seigneur, do not think of avenging him.
You would sacrifice yourselves in vain--you, your wives and children,
your property, and your liberty. Lay down your arms, my friends--lay
down your arms! since the king commands you so to do--and retire
peaceably to your dwellings. It is I who ask you to do so; it is I who
beg you to do so; it is I who now, in the hour of need, command you to
do so, in the name of M. Fouquet."
The crowd collected under the window uttered a prolonged growl of anger
and terror. "The soldiers of Louis XIV. have entered the island,"
continued Aramis. "From this time it would no longer be a combat between
them and you--it would be a massacre. Begone, then, begone and forget;
this time I command you, in the name of the Lord."
The mutineers retired slowly, submissive and silent.
"Ah! what have you just been saying there, my friend?" said Porthos.
"Monsieur," said Biscarrat to the bishop, "you may save all these
inhabitants, but you will neither save yourself nor your friend."
"Monsieur de Biscarrat," said the bishop of Vannes, with a singular
accent of nobleness and courtesy, "Monsieur de Biscarrat, be kind enough
to resume your liberty."
"I am very willing to do so, monsieur, but--"
"That would render us a service, for, when announcing to the king's
lieutenant the submission of the islanders, you will perhaps obtain some
grace for us on informing him of the manner in which that submission has
been effected."
"Grace!" replied Porthos with flashing eyes, "what is the meaning of
that word?"
Aramis touched the elbow of his friend roughly, as he had been
accustomed to do in the days of their youth, when he wanted to warn
Porthos that he had committed, or was about to commit, a blunder.
Porthos understood him, and was silent immediately.
"I will go, messieurs," replied Biscarrat, a little surprised likewise
at the word "grace" pronounced by the haughty musketeer, of whom, some
instants before, he had related and boasted with so much enthusiasm the
heroic exploits with which his father had delighted him.
"Go, then, Monsieur Biscarrat," said Aramis, bowing to him, "and at
parting receive the expression of our entire gratitude."
"But you, messieurs, you whom I take honor to call my friends, since you
have been willing to accept that title, what will become of you in the
meantime?" replied the officer, very much agitated at taking leave of
the two ancient adversaries of his father.
"We will wait here."
"But, mon Dieu!--the order is formal."
"I am bishop of Vannes, Monsieur de Biscarrat; and they no more shoot a
bishop than they hang a gentleman."
"Ah! yes, monsieur--yes, monseigneur," replied Biscarrat; "it is true,
you are right, there is still that chance for you. Then, I will depart,
I will repair to the commander of the expedition, the king's lieutenant.
Adieu! then, messieurs, or rather, to meet again, I hope."
The worthy officer, then jumping upon a horse given him by Aramis,
departed in the direction of the sound of the cannon, and which, by
bringing the crowd into the fort, had interrupted the conversation of
the two friends with their prisoner. Aramis watched his departure, and
when left alone with Porthos, "Well, do you comprehend?" said he.
"Ma foi! no."
"Did not Biscarrat inconvenience you here?"
"No; he is a brave fellow."
"Yes; but the grotto of Locmaria--is it necessary all the world should
know it?"
"Ah! that is true, that is true; I comprehend. We are going to escape by
the cavern."
"If you please," replied Aramis joyously. "Forward, my friend Porthos;
our boat awaits us, and the king has not caught us yet."