Being a Chapter of Explanations, which the reader has no occasion
to peruse if he understands the story without it.
"Great news! Cinq Mars!" exclaimed Fontrailles. "Great news! the
Cardinal is sick to the death, and goes without loss of time to
Tarascon: he trembles upon the brink of the grave."
Cinq Mars was stretched upon three chairs, the farthest of which he kept
balanced on its edge by the weight of his feet, idly rocking it
backwards and forwards, while his mind was deeply buried in one of the
weak romances of the day, the reading which was a favourite amusement
with the Master of the Horse, at those periods when the energies of his
mind seemed to sleep. "Too good news to be true, Fontrailles," he
replied, hardly looking up; "take my word for it, the Devil never dies."
"That may be," answered Fontrailles, "but nevertheless the Cardinal, as
I said, is dying, and goes instantly to Tarascon to try another
climate."
"Why, where hast thou heard all this? and when didst thou come from
Spain?" demanded Cinq Mars, rousing himself. "Thou hast made good
speed."
"Had I not good reason?" asked the other. "But they tell me that I must
question you for news; for that it is something in regard to your
friend, the young Count de Blenau, which has so deeply struck the
Cardinal."
"Well then, I will give the story, in true heroic style," answered Cinq
Mars, tossing the book from him. "Thou dost remember, O my friend!" he
continued, imitating the language of the romance he had just been
reading, "how stormy was the night, when last I parted from thee, at the
old Chateau of Mesnil St. Loup; and if the thunder clouds passed away,
and left the sky clear and moonlighted, it was but to be succeeded by a
still more violent tempest. For, long after thou wert snugly housed at
Troyes, De Thou and myself were galloping on through the storm of
night. The rain fell, the lightning glanced, the thunder rolled over
head, and the way seemed doubly long, and the forest doubly dreary, when
by a sudden blaze of the red fire of heaven, I descried some one,
mounted on a white horse, come rapidly towards us."
"Come, come, Cinq Mars!" exclaimed Fontrailles, "for grace, leave the
land of romance--remember I have a long story to tell, and not much time
to tell it in. Truce with imagination therefore, for we have more
serious work before us."
"It's truth--it's truth, thou unbelieving Jew," cried Cinq Mars. "No
romance, I can assure you. Well, soon as this white horseman saw two
others wending their way towards him, he suddenly reined in his beast,
and turning round, galloped off as hard as he could go. Now, if
curiosity be a failing, it is one I possess in an eminent degree; so,
clapping spurs to my horse, after him I went, full faster than he ran
away. As for De Thou, he calls out after me, loud enough to drown the
thunder, crying, 'Cinq Mars, where are you going? In God's name stop--We
know the place is full of banditti--If these are robbers, they may
murder you,'--and so on; but finding that I did not much heed, he also
was smitten with a galloping fit, and so we followed each other, like a
procession, though with no procession pace: the white horseman first--I
next--and De Thou last--with about a hundred yards between each of
us--going all at full speed, to the great peril of our necks, and no
small danger of our heads from the boughs. I was best mounted however,
on my stout black horse Sloeberry--you know Sloeberry;--and so
distancing De Thou all to nothing, I began to come closer to my white
horseman, who, finding that he could not get off, gradually pulled in,
and let me come up with him. 'Well, Sir,' said he directly, with all
possible coolness--'you have ridden hard to-night.'--'In truth, I have,
my man,' answered I, 'and so have you, and I should much like to know
why you did so.'--'For the same reason that you did, I suppose,' replied
the boy, for such it was who spoke.--'And what reason is that?' I
asked.--'Because we both liked it, I suppose,' replied he.--'That may
be,' answered I; 'but we have all a reason for our likings.'--'True,
Sir,' said the boy, 'and I dare say your's was a good one; pray,
believe that mine was so also,'--All the time he spoke, he kept looking
round at me, till at last he got a good sight of my face. 'Are not you
Monsieur de Cinq Mars?' cried he at length.--'And if I am, what follows
then?'--'Why it follows that you are the person I want,' said the
boy.--'And what want you with me?'--'Who is that?' demanded he, pointing
to De Thou, who now came up. I soon satisfied him on that score, and he
went on. 'My name is Henry de La Mothe, and I am Page to your good
friend, the Count de Blenau, whom I have seen arrested and carried to
the Bastille.'
"Now, you know, Fontrailles, how dear I hold De Blenau; so you may guess
how pleasantly this rang upon my ear. My first question to the Page was,
whether my friend had sent him to me. 'No, no, Seigneur,' answered the
boy; 'but as I knew you loved my master, and the King loved you, I
thought it best to let you know, in case you might wish to serve him. He
was taken as he was about to go with the Queen to Chantilly, and they
would not let me or any other go with him, to serve him in prison. So I
cast about in my mind, how I could serve him out of it, and consequently
came off to seek you.'--'But how did you know where to find me?'
demanded I, not a little fearing that our movements were watched; but
the boy relieved me from that by answering, 'Why, Sir, there was a
messenger came over from Chantilly to desire the Queen's presence; and
amongst all the questions I asked him, there was one which made him tell
me that you had gone to Troyes upon some business of inheritance, and as
I heard that the path through this wood would save me a league, I took
it, hoping to reach the town to-night.'
"Well, all the Page's news vexed me not a little, and I thought of a
thousand things to relieve De Blenau ere I could fix on any. But it
happened, as it often does in this world, that chance directed me when
reasoning failed. Having made the best of my way, I arrived with De Thou
and the boy at Chantilly, at the hour of nine the next night, and
passing towards my own apartments in the Palace, I saw the King's
cabinet open, and on inquiry, found that he had not yet retired to rest.
My resolution was instantly taken; and without waiting even to dust my
boots, I went just as I was, to pay my duty to his Majesty. My short
absence had done me no harm with Louis, who received me with more grace
than ever; so while the newness was on, I dashed at the subject next my
heart at once. Like a well-bred falcon, I soared my full pitch, hovered
an instant in my pride of place, and then stooped at once with
irresistible force. In short, Fontrailles, for the first time I believe
in my life, I boasted. I told Louis how I loved him; I counted over the
services I had done him. His noble heart--you may smile, Sir, but he has
a noble heart--was touched; I saw it, and gave him a moment to think
over all old passages of affection between us, and to combine them with
the feelings of the moment, and then I told him that my friend--my bosom
friend--was suffering from the tyranny of the Cardinal, and demanded his
favour for De Blenau. 'What can I do, Cinq Mars?' demanded he, 'you know
I must follow the advice of my ministers and counsellors.'
"It was an opportunity not to be lost," exclaimed Fontrailles, eagerly;
"I hope you seized it."--"I did," replied Cinq Mars. "I plied him hard
on every point that could shake the influence of Richelieu. I showed him
the shameful bondage he suffered. I told him, that if he allowed the
sovereign power, placed by God in his hands, to be abused by another, he
was as guilty as if he misused it himself; and then I said--'I plead
alone for the innocent, Sire. Hear De Blenau yourself, and if you find
him guilty, bring him to the block at once. But if he have done nothing
worthy of death, I will trust that your Majesty's justice will instantly
set him free.' Well, the King not only promised that he would go to
Paris and examine De Blenau himself, but he added--'And I will be firm,
Cinq Mars; I know the power is in my own hands, and I will exert it to
save your friend, if he be not criminal.'
"This was all fair, Fontrailles; I could desire no more; but Louis even
out did my expectation. Something had already irritated him against the
Cardinal--I think it was the banishment of Clara de Hauteford. However,
he went to the Bastille with Richelieu, Chavigni, and others of the
council. Of course I was not admitted; but I heard all that passed from
one who was present. De Blenau bore him nobly and bravely, and downright
refused to answer any questions about the Queen, without her Majesty's
own commands. Well; Richelieu, according to custom, was for giving him
the torture instantly. But the King had many good reasons for not
suffering that to be done. Besides wishing to pleasure me, and being
naturally averse to cruelty, he had a lingering inclination to cross
Richelieu, and De Blenau's firmness set him a good example: so the
Cardinal was overruled; and the Queen's commands to De Blenau to confess
all being easily procured, he owned that he had forwarded letters from
her Majesty to her brother the King of Spain. Now, you see, Richelieu
was angry, and irritated at being thwarted; and he did the most foolish
thing that man ever did; for though he saw that Louis was roused, and
just in the humour to cross him, he got up, and not considering the
King's presence, at once pronounced a sentence of exile against De
Blenau, as if the sovereign power had been entirely his own, without
consulting Louis, or asking his approbation at all. Though, God knows,
the King cares little enough about using his power, of course he does
not like to be treated as a mere cipher before his own Council; and
accordingly he revoked the Cardinal's sentence without hesitation,
sending De Blenau, merely for form's sake, into Bourbon, and then
rising, he broke up the Council, treating Richelieu with as scanty
consideration as he had shown himself. By Heaven! Fontrailles, when I
heard it, I could have played the fool for joy. Richelieu was deeply
touched, you may suppose; and what with his former ill health and this
new blow, he has never been himself since; but I knew not that he was so
far gone as you describe."
"It is so reported in Paris," replied Fontrailles, "and he has become so
humble that no one would know him. But mark me, Cinq Mars. The Cardinal
is now upon the brink of a precipice, and we must urge him quickly down;
for if he once again gain the ascendency, we are not only lost for ever,
but his power will be far greater than it was before."
"He will never rise more in this world," answered Cinq Mars. "His day, I
trust, is gone by: his health is broken; and the King, who always hated
him, now begins to fear him no longer. I will do my best to strengthen
Louis's resolution, and get him into a way of thinking for himself. And
now, Fontrailles, for the news from Spain."
"Why, my story might be made longer than yours, if I were to go through
all that happened to me on the road. It was a long and barren journey,
and I believe I should have been almost starved before I reached Madrid,
if I had not half filled my bags with biscuits. However, I arrived at
length, and not without some difficulty found a place to lodge, for
these cold Spaniards are as fearful of admitting a stranger to their
house, as if he were a man-tiger. My next step was to send for a tailor,
and to hire me a lacquais or two, one of whom I sent instantly to Madame
de Chevreuse, praying an audience of her, which was granted
immediately."
"Why thou wert not mad enough to make a _confidante_ of Madame de
Chevreuse?" exclaimed Cinq Mars; "why, it is carrying water in a sieve.
A thousand to one, she makes her peace with Richelieu, by telling him
the whole story."
"Fear not, Cinq Mars," answered Fontrailles. "Have you yet to learn that
a woman's first passion is revenge? To such extent is the hatred of
Madame de Chevreuse against the Cardinal, that I believe, were she asked
to sacrifice one of her beautiful hands, she would do it, if it would
but conduce to his ruin."
Cinq Mars shook his head, still doubting the propriety of what had been
done; but Fontrailles proceeded.
"However, I told her nothing; she knew it all, before I set foot in
Spain. You must know, King Philip is a monarch no way insensible to
female charms, and the Duchess is too lovely to pass unnoticed any
where. The consequences are natural--A lady of her rank having taken
refuge in his dominions, of course the King must pay her every
attention. He is always with her--has a friendship, a _penchant_, an
affection for her--call it what you will, but it is that sort of feeling
which makes a man tell a woman every thing: and thus very naturally our
whole correspondence has gone direct to Madame de Chevreuse. My object
in first asking to see her, was only to gain an immediate audience of
the King, which she can always command; but when I found that she knew
the whole business, of course, I made her believe that I came for the
express purpose of consulting her upon it. Her vanity was flattered. She
became more than ever convinced, that she was a person of infinite
consequence, and acknowledged discernment; entered heart and hand into
all our schemes; stuck out her pretty little foot, and made me buckle
her shoe; brought me speedily to the King's presence, and made him
consent to all I wished; got the treaty signed and sealed, and sent me
back to France with my object accomplished, remaining herself fully
convinced that she is at the head of the most formidable conspiracy that
ever was formed, and that future ages will celebrate her talents for
diplomacy and intrigue."
Cinq Mars, though not fully satisfied at the admission of so light a
being as Madame de Chevreuse into secrets of such importance, could not
help smiling at the account his companion gave; and as it was in vain to
regret what was done, he turned to the present, asking what was to be
done next. "No time is now to be lost," said he. "For the whole danger
is now incurred, and we must not allow it to be fruitless."
"Certainly not," answered Fontrailles. "You must ply the King hard to
procure his consent as far as possible. In the next place, a counterpart
of the treaty must be signed by all the confederates, and sent into
Spain, for which I have pledged my word; and another, similarly signed,
must be sent to the Duke of Bouillon in Italy. But who will carry it to
the Duke? that is the question. I cannot absent myself again."
"I will provide a messenger," said Cinq Mars. "There is an Italian
attached to my service, named Villa Grande, a sort of half-bred
gentleman, who, lacking gold himself, hangs upon any who will feed him.
They laugh at him here for his long mustaches, and his longer rapier;
but if he tell truth, his rapier has done good service; so, as this will
be an undertaking of danger, he shall have it, as he says he seeks but
to distinguish himself in my service, and being an Italian, he knows the
country to which he is going."
"If you can trust him, be it so," replied Fontrailles. "At present let
us look to other considerations. We must seek to strengthen our party by
all means; for though circumstances seem to combine to favour us, yet it
is necessary to guard against any change. Do you think that the Queen
could be brought to join us?"
"Certainly not!" replied the Master of the Horse; "and if she would, to
us it would be far more dangerous than advantageous. She has no power
over the mind of the King--she has no separate authority; and besides,
though Richelieu's avowed enemy, she is so cautious of giving offence
to Louis, that she would consent to nothing that was not openly
warranted by him."
"But suppose we are obliged to have recourse to arms," said Fontrailles,
"would it not be every thing in our favour to have in our hands the
Queen and the Heir apparent to the throne."
"True," answered Cinq Mars; "but if we are driven to such extremity, she
will be obliged to declare for some party, and that of necessity must be
our's; for she will never side with Richelieu. We can also have her well
surrounded by our friends, and seize upon the Dauphin should the case
require it."
"What say you, then, to trying the Count de Blenau? He is your friend.
He is brave, expert in war, and just such a man as leads the blind
multitude. But more, he is wealthy and powerful, and has much credit in
Languedoc."
"I do not know," said Cinq Mars thoughtfully, "I do not know.--De Blenau
would never betray us, even if he refused to aid our scheme. But I much
think his scruples would go farther than even De Thou's. I have often
remarked, he has that sort of nicety in his ideas which will not suffer
him to enter into any thing which may, by even a remote chance, cast a
shade upon his name."
"Well, we can try him at all events," said Fontrailles. "You, Cinq Mars,
can ask him whether he will join the liberators of his country."
"No, Fontrailles," answered the Master of the Horse in a decided tone;
"no, I will not do it. Claude de Blenau is a man by whom I should not
like to be refused. Besides, I should hesitate to involve him, young and
noble-hearted as he is, in a scheme which might draw down ruin on his
head."
"In the name of Heaven, Cinq Mars," cried Fontrailles, with real
astonishment at a degree of generosity of which he could find no trace
in his own bosom, "of what are you dreaming? Are you frenzied? Why, you
have engaged life and fortune, hope and happiness, in this scheme
yourself, and can you love another man better?"
"There is every difference, Fontrailles--every difference. If I cut my
own throat, I am a fool and a madman, granted; but if I cut the throat
of another man, I am a murderer, which is somewhat worse. But I will be
plain with you. I have embarked in this with my eyes open, and it is my
own fault. Therefore, whatever happens, I will go on and do my best for
our success. But mark me, Fontrailles, if all were to come over again, I
would rather lay down one of my hands and have it chopped off, than
enter into any engagement of the kind."
A cloud came over the brow of Fontrailles for a moment, and a gleam of
rage lighted up his dark grey eye, which soon, however, passed away from
his features, though the rankling passion still lay at his heart, like a
smouldering fire, which wants but a touch to blaze forth and destroy.
But his look, as I have said, was soon cleared of all trace of anger;
and he replied with that show of cheerfulness which he well knew how to
assume, "Well, Cinq Mars, I do not look upon it in so gloomy a light as
you do; though perhaps, were it now to begin, I might not be so ready in
it either, for the chances we have run were great; but these, I trust,
are over, and every thing certainly looks prosperous at present.
However, there is no use in thinking what either of us might do had we
now our choice. We are both too far engaged to go back at this time of
day; so let us think alone of insuring success, and the glory of having
attempted to free our country will at least be ours, let the worst
befall us."
The word _glory_ was never without its effect on Cinq Mars. It was his
passion, and was but the more violent from the restraint to which his
constant attendance on the King had subjected it, seldom having been
enabled to display in their proper field those high qualities which he
possessed as a soldier. "So far you are right, Fontrailles," replied he;
"the glory even of the attempt is great, and we have but one course to
pursue, which is straightforward to our object. You, do every thing to
bind the fickle goddess to our cause, and so will I; but thinking as I
do, I cannot find it in my heart to involve De Blenau. Manage that as
you like; only do not ask me to do it."
"Oh that is easily done," answered Fontrailles, "without your bearing
any part in it. Of course each of the confederates has a right to invite
whomsoever he may think proper to join his party, and it would be highly
dishonourable of any other to dissuade the person so invited from aiding
the scheme on which all our lives depend. The Count de Blenau, I think
you say, is now retired to Bourbon. There also is the Duke of Orleans,
and I will take care that he shall broach the subject to the Count
without implicating you."
Cinq Mars started from his seat, and began pacing the room with his eyes
bent on the ground, feeling an undefined sensation of dissatisfaction at
the plans of Fontrailles, yet hardly knowing how to oppose them. "Well,
well," said he at length; "it is your business, not mine; and besides, I
do not, in the least, think that De Blenau will listen to you for a
moment. He has other things to think of. Mademoiselle de Beaumont is
absent, no one knows where; and he must soon hear of it."
"Be that as it may," replied Fontrailles, "I will try. And now, Cinq
Mars, let me touch upon another point;" and the wily conspirator
prepared all his powers to work upon the mind of his less cautious
companion, and to urge him on to an attempt which had already been the
object of more than one conspiracy in that day, but which, by some
unaccountable means, had always failed without any apparent difficulty
or obstacle. This was no other than the assassination of the Cardinal de
Richelieu: and those who read the memoirs of the faction-breathing
Gondi, or any other of the historical records of the time, will wonder
how, without any precaution for his personal safety, Richelieu escaped
the many hands that were armed for his destruction.
Princes and nobles, warriors and politicians had thought it no crime to
undertake the death of this tyrant Minister; but yet there was something
in the mind of Cinq Mars so opposite to every thing base and
treacherous, that Fontrailles feared to approach boldly the proposal he
was about to make. "Let us suppose, my noble friend," said he, in that
slow and energetic manner which often lends authority to bad argument,
"that all our schemes succeed--that the tyrant is stripped of the power
he has so abused--that the tiger is enveloped in our toils. What are we
to do? Are we to content ourselves with having caught him? Are we only
to hold him for a moment in our power, and then to set him loose again,
once more to ravage France, and to destroy ourselves? And if we agree to
hold him in captivity, where shall we find chains sufficient to bind
him, or a cage in which we can confine him with security, when there are
a thousand other tigers of his race ready to attack the hunters of their
fellow?"
"I propose nothing of the kind," answered Cinq Mars; "once stripped of
his authority, let him be arraigned for the crimes which he has
committed, and suffer the death he has merited. The blood of thousands
will cry out for justice, and his very creatures will spurn the monster
that they served from fear."
"Then you think him worthy of death," said Fontrailles, in that kind of
undecided manner which showed that he felt he was treading on dangerous
ground.
"Worthy of death!" exclaimed Cinq Mars; "who can doubt it?--Fontrailles,
what is it that you mean? You speak as if there was something in your
mind that you know not how to discover. Speak, man. What is it you would
say?"
"Who will deny that Brutus was a patriot?" said Fontrailles; "a brave, a
noble, and a glorious man? And Brutus stabbed Cæsar in the
Capitol!--Cinq Mars, when the freedom of our country is at stake, shall
we wait tamely till we have preached a timid Monarch into compliance, or
drawn a foreign power to our aid, when _one--single--hand_ could do the
work of justice, and rid the world of a tyrant who has lived so much too
long?"
"Ha!" exclaimed Cinq Mars, starting back, and laying his hand upon his
sword; "dost thou suppose me an assassin? Art thou one thyself, that
thou canst so well gloze over murder with a stale tale of
antiquity?--Monsieur de Fontrailles," he continued more calmly, but
still with stern indignation, "you have mistaken the person to whom you
addressed yourself. Pardon me. We will speak no more upon this subject,
lest we end worse friends than we began."
Fontrailles was not a common hypocrite; he saw at once that on this
point persuasion would be vain, and defence of his first proposal would
but leave the worse impression on the mind of his companion; and
therefore his determination was formed in a moment to take up the exact
reverse position to that which he had just occupied, and if possible to
force Cinq Mars into a belief that the proposal had only been made to
try him. The first wild start of his companion had caused Fontrailles to
draw back almost in fear; but instantly recovering himself, like a
well-trained actor, every muscle of whose face is under command, he
fixed his eyes on Cinq Mars, and instead of any sign of anger or
disappointment, he threw into his countenance an expression of gratified
admiration. "Cinq Mars, my noble friend!" he exclaimed, opening his
arms to embrace him as the other concluded; "you are the man I thought
you! Pardon me if I have sought to try you! but when I heard you propose
to affect the Cardinal's life by our plans, I knew not how far that idea
might lead you, and I wished to be sure of the man with whom I was so
deeply engaged. I declare before Heaven, that had I found that you
proposed to do Richelieu to death by aught but legal means, I should
have been deeply grieved, and would have fled from France where-e'er my
fortune might lead, leaving you to follow your plans as best you might.
But I am now satisfied, and demand your pardon for having ever doubted
you."
Cinq Mars suffered the embrace which Fontrailles proffered, but returned
it coldly. Acting is ever acting, however near it may approach to
nature; and notwithstanding all the hypocritical art of which
Fontrailles was a master, and which he took care to exert on the present
occasion, the mind of Cinq Mars still retained its doubts as to the
character of the man with whom he had so closely linked his fate. "If he
_is_ a villain," thought the Master of the Horse, "he is a most black
and consummate villain;" and though they parted apparently friends, the
recollection of that morning's conversation still haunted the
imagination of Cinq Mars like some ill vision; nor did the impression
cease with his waking thoughts, but visited him even during the hours of
repose, making him believe himself chained in a dungeon with Fontrailles
standing over him turning a dagger round and round in his heart, while
ever and anon he cried "Thou art a murderer!"