DArtagnan and the Iron Mask or Two Years Later - 1

D'Artagnan and the Iron Mask or Two Years Later

Book 1


Fanfic by Vadim Zhmud

© Vadim Zhmud 2022

All rights reserved.
For commercial using contact with oao_nips@bk.ru

This text has not been edited after machine translation. This is an introductory event.

Annotation

Why didn't Porthos die? How was Athos saved? Why don't the adventures of the famous four musketeers, d'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramis end with the last page of the book "The Vicomte de Bragelonne or another ten years later"?
You will learn about this from this book. The novel provides an alternative continuation of Alexandre Dumas' trilogy about the Three Musketeers. The action of the novel begins from the moment described in the twenty-second chapter of The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Next, an alternative presentation of events is proposed, which somewhat resembles in external events the presentation given in the said novel, yet is fundamentally different from it, and the subsequent adventures, starting from the twenty-ninth chapter, are radically different from the famous novel. Unlike the last volume of the third book of the novel, where Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan die, the novel reveals the reasons why our heroes escaped and were forced to keep their salvation a secret. What Aramis failed to do, d'Artagnan managed to complete. But did this feat make him happy? How did the twin brother of the King behave on the throne of the greatest state in Europe? What happened to the kidnapped King? Will he be able to regain his lost throne? You will learn about this and much more by reading the novel to the end.
Prologue

Exactly two years later, after the events described in my novel The Vicomte de Bragelonne, D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramis indulged in conversation, accompanied by snacks, comfortably sitting on a picnic in the middle of a forest clearing.
“My friends, this picnic reminds me of a couple of others,” said d’Artagnan.
- By my sword, I know what you're talking about! - exclaimed Porthos. – Firstly, is this dinner at the La Rochelle fortress? Those were great days!
“I agree,” Aramis smiled softly.
- For our youth, friends! Why are your cups empty? - Athos exclaimed, although his cup could hardly be called full, because he had hardly drunk in recent years.
- Well, what about the second one? – asked d'Artagnan.
“Of course, the one where we planned this glorious event,” said Aramis with the same soft smile.
- That's it, friends! How glad I am that we are together again, as then, and as, I hope, always! - exclaimed d'Artagnan, knocking over his goblet of excellent Anjou wine. – And do you know what came to my mind now?
“Apparently, we’ll find out now,” Athos grinned.
“And the fact that the four of us have been keeping our finger on the pulse of history for almost forty years now.”
- For goodness sake, d'Artagnan, are we really that old? – Aramis protested.
“I remember, Aramis, you are not good at mathematics,” d’Artagnan inserted the pin.
- Not strong, by God! – Aramis answered.
“But in architecture,” continued d’Artagnan.
- Let's not talk about this! So what did you say about the pulse of history?
— I claim that history is us, and we are history. We sometimes correct its course, that is, I say that we hold the reins of this restive horse in our hands.
“As always, I agree with you, d’Artagnan,” Aramis replied after he furtively felt a certain envelope on his chest and made sure that the letter was still where it was supposed to be.
- And no one can stop us! - continued d'Artagnan. “No one will dare cross our path.”
- Nobody! - Aramis confirmed, - But for God's sake, be quiet!
“Can they really hear us here in the forest?” – d'Artagnan was surprised. “I heard that walls have ears, but there aren’t even walls here.” Only trees.
- Is it some kind of stupid wild animal? For example, a squirrel,” with these words Aramis phlegmatically shot into the bushes.
“I think I heard a scream?” – d'Artagnan was wary.
- Squirrel, sir! Squirrel,” Aramis objected.
- As for me, it was a whole boar! - Porthos exclaimed, - I think I’ll take a look.
- No need, Porthos. - Athos objected softly, - Aramis told you that it was a squirrel, therefore, it was a squirrel.
- Squirrel, or marten. I’m weak in biology, as well as in mathematics,” Aramis grinned.
“I hope there weren’t any other… squirrels with her,” Porthos grinned.
“We stayed too long,” Athos answered and silently indicated to Grimaud that he could tidy up his things. As for the horses, they were not unsaddled, so our friends easily jumped into their saddles and galloped off in the direction that I will tell our readers about a little later.
And now I invite them to return to my novel “The Vicomte de Bragelonne or Ten Years Later.” We will explain some of the dates of this story.
;

Translator's Preface

While in Clermont-Ferrand, I don’t remember exactly what year, I think it was two thousand and twelve, I initially did not plan to visit second-hand bookstores. However, in this town, a significant part of which is made up of students, for some unknown reason there are a huge number of antique shops. You might think that all students want is to buy old furniture, old paintings and old books. I don’t know why, but I also became addicted to visiting antique and second-hand bookstores. I didn't need books in French, but this kind of morbid love for books invariably pulled me there. I was simply curious to look at old books.
The more shabby a book is, the more readers have read it. That's why my eyes were drawn to old books.
In second-hand bookstores in France, customers can take a stepladder themselves and look at the top shelves, inspecting the most secluded corners. This is what I did. Looking at one of the most distant shelves, to my surprise, instead of a book, I found a folder on which was written “ Deux ans plus tard par Alex Dumas ."
The folder was huge, so it was not easy for me to remove it from the top shelf. In addition, I was afraid that the old ties would break and the sheets would fall out on the floor. It would have been very difficult to collect and fold them, although, as I later discovered, all the sheets were numbered.
I don’t know what prompted me to make this crazy purchase. I asked just out of curiosity how much this miracle costs. I expected the price to be around a hundred euros. But the seller told me that the sale of the manuscript, according to the laws when it was acquired, and according to the owner’s will, will be equivalent to the sale of copyright, that is, the acquirer of this folder, according to the terms of the sale, acquires all rights to use it. Then I asked how much this manuscript cost, and received the answer that it was offered at a cost of forty thousand euros. I asked for a discount, not expecting an agreement, but it turns out that the term “offered at cost” does not mean the final price, so the seller quite easily agreed to reduce the price to thirty-two thousand euros. Like any professor at the most ordinary Russian technical university, I, of course, had a similar amount on my card, so I didn’t think twice and just asked if they accepted non-cash payments. The seller informed me that transactions above five hundred euros are recommended to be made by bank transfer, so the issue of purchasing the manuscript was resolved. Having brought the manuscript home, I naturally put it on the top shelf of my bookcase and got on with more pressing matters. But recently I had to restore some semblance of order in my library, and since this folder was the most unsightly of all my immense book wealth, I decided to part with it. But first, of course, I had to read what it says, otherwise my purchase should be called unreasonable. Unfortunately, I didn't know French. I had to spend time studying it. Having signed up for all the French courses available to me, I studied it day and night, and after an appropriate interval of time, I won’t say which one, because I’m ashamed that it took me more than three and a half months, so I was able to, finally read this manuscript.
Since I can type faster than I can think, I decided to print this translation and post it on the Proza.Ru website. After this, I was surprised to discover that my translation of this manuscript was enjoying some reader success. Therefore, I combined the pieces of translations that I published into a common file and offer it to my supportive readers.

Preface by the author

My readers probably remember how the novel Ten Years Later ends. No matter how much I love my heroes, we must remember that all people are mortal, so I tried to describe not only their life, full of incredible adventures, but also their death worthy of all respect, where I showed that until the very last minute of their lives, each of them remained the noblest nobleman, faithful to the duty of honor.
But incredible events happen not only in novels, but also in life.
Having visited one of the charming towns of Gascony, I met quite by chance a very sweet and charming girl, whose name I am careful not to mention, since it might not please her current husband, whom I would not want to offend in any way. We will call her Marquise Dionne de Livry, although I admit in advance that this name is fictitious, and I ask my readers not to try to draw any parallels with real historical figures. However, the name Dion suits her perfectly, since she really was a little goddess of about twelve years old.
Having learned my name, the charming marquise expressed indescribable delight at meeting me, but after several moments of indescribable joy, she suddenly frowned sharply and tried to portray extraordinary anger, which suited her no less than the previously expressed delight. I confess that I was completely fascinated by her, and even if I were forty years younger... However, this does not apply to the plot of my story. So, before I had time to exchange a few words with the charming marquise, I had already evoked such contradictory feelings that I was surprised and intrigued.
“Let me kiss your hand, charming marquise,” I said, as kindly as possible, trying to hide my smile and feigning seriousness with all my might, “and let me also introduce myself to you as a dramatic writer.”
“Both hands, of course,” my little goddess answered without hesitation, but then added. “I would have kissed you on the cheek myself if you weren’t so guilty!”
- For mercy, what am I guilty of before you, my charming child! I don't think I had the honor of knowing you before? – I was surprised.
– You are guilty of a triple murder! Yes, yes, you killed wonderful people, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan, not to mention poor Raoul de Bragelonne, poor Mouston! You're just a monster! - was the answer.
I swear by all the saints, there was so much confidence in her answer that I almost believed her that I really was a sworn killer of innocent people.
- Charming child! But these are only literary heroes! – I objected, but received an answer, as they say, not in the eyebrow, but in the eye.
“Even so, you still shouldn’t have killed them in such a dishonorable manner.” In addition, you killed my faith in justice, and in addition, my faith in the truthfulness of your writing pen.
“Justice, alas, does not occur on our land as often as we would like, and if it does not always occur in my novels, this only testifies to their veracity,” I answered, not understanding myself why I should justify myself to this baby. - However, I don’t understand why you doubt the veracity of my pen?
- How can I trust you when everything you write turns out to be untrue? – my little reader was indignant.
“Probably not everything I wrote is untrue,” I continued to justify myself, “but some things in my novels were written not with my hand, but with my heart, and the heart, my dear, cannot lie.”
– If I had read your novels only once, I might have believed what was written there. – the charming marquise continued her advance. “But I’ve read each novel four times, and I’m currently finishing it for the fifth time, and the more I read, the more indignant I am about the inaccuracies you made.”
“I never expected to meet such a devoted admirer and such a ruthless critic of my works in this charming town,” I continued in a half-joking tone, “but we still have some time before lunch, during which I am ready to listen to your accusations and provide my justifications.” before you give your final verdict on me and my novels.
“If you please,” the little girl answered readily, from which I concluded that this was exactly the turn of events she was seeking.
- So, I'm listening.
“Let’s start with minor sins,” began the Marquise de Livry.
“I see that you are an experienced confessor,” I tried to joke, but the conversation became more and more serious.
- Tell me, why, upon returning from England, does Athos give the Queen of England an order and a wedding ring?
– These are the tragic relics that he inherited from King Charles I on the scaffold, my friend...
– At the beginning of the novel, the queen sent her husband, through Lord Winter, an order and a cross studded with diamonds. The king returned these same relics to Aramis while standing on the scaffold. He returned the order, then took a small cross studded with diamonds from his neck, and said that Aramis should take this cross from his hands after the execution was completed. How could a golden cross turn into a wedding ring?
– Did I really make such a mistake? – I was surprised. – At the beginning of work on the novel, I thought that Athos and Aramis would bring the queen an order and a ring, then, when writing the execution scene, I thought that it would be indecent and difficult for a priest to remove a ring from the finger of an executed king, while picking up a cross that had fallen from his hand executed, it would be quite possible, and even appropriate, for a priest.
- So you were making it up? You didn’t know for sure what exactly Athos and Aramis brought to the queen?! – the little marquise exclaimed indignantly.
There was so much feeling in this indignation of hers that I confess that I did not dare to confirm to her the simple truth that most of the novel is precisely the author’s invention, and there are just as many historical events in it as are necessary just to have some kind of background to depict the entire colorful picture of the adventures of the main characters of the novel. I confess to you this sin, my dear readers, I did not find the strength in myself to admit that all my novels, which my reader reread almost five times, were just my fantasy. I’m not a historian, I’m a dramatic writer, all the adventures that happen to my heroes happened first in my head and in my heart, then on paper, after which, I dare to hope, in the hearts and thoughts of my readers. So I lied. He lied shamelessly and meanly. I said:
“I must have expressed myself incorrectly.” I first believed from one source that Aramis had returned the wedding ring to the queen, then I doubted that he could have had the opportunity to take it, after which I undertook further investigation and learned for sure that what was returned was a cross studded with diamonds. I corrected it in those places where it was necessary, but, as it now turns out, I forgot to correct this error in one of the last chapters of the novel.
“I noticed that you write the last chapters of your novels hastily,” answered my little marquise, which both upset and surprised me.
– How did you notice this, may I be curious? – I asked half-jokingly.
– At the beginning and middle of your novels, you outline many plot lines that promise the reader very interesting events. The reader expects the development of these lines, but you do not give answers to all the questions you pose, you end the novels so abruptly, as if some more important matter is tearing you away from writing this novel. “Every ending of a novel is a big disappointment for readers,” my little fan said categorically.
- Is it really so?
– Take the novel “Prediction”. In it, the main characters, historical figures, meet in one tavern, where fate confronts them with a fortune teller. This fortune teller predicts that half of them will be killed and half of them will become murderers. All these heroes are called by name. Many names belong to famous people, from whose history we can conclude that the prediction of this fortune teller came true completely. But why don’t you reveal the events that happened, confirming the correctness of the prediction? I thought you were planning to write a next novel depicting these events that the fortune teller predicted, but nothing like that! You abandoned this topic and don’t write anything about it.
– I haven’t died yet, to my and, I dare to hope, to your joy. Maybe I'll write a sequel someday.
- Some day? – in the voice of my marquise I heard contempt and reproach, – Is it possible to abandon such a fertile topic without finishing what I started?
– You amazed me, but this is just one of my many novels.
– And the novel “Forty-Five”?
– What’s wrong with him? There were no predictions in it, as far as I remember.
– First “Queen Margot”, then “Countess de Monsoreau”, then “Forty-Five”, who are these novels about?
– Although this is a trilogy, my dear, the heroes in them are different.
– There is only one main character in these novels - King Henry of Navarre, who, as you know, later became King Henry the Fourth of France, laying the foundation for the Bourbon dynasty on the French throne!
– Why do you consider him the main character, my dear? – I was surprised.
- Because he is the main character! Your trilogy lacks a resolution; if you want, you should write a novel, The Three Henrys, in which you describe how Henry of Navarre became Henry the Fourth of France, despite the attempts of Henry of Guise, inheriting the throne from Henry the Third.
- After all, everyone knows this! Besides, I once wrote a short play with that title.
– Where is this play, who knows about it, where can I buy a book with that title by you? – the little accuser seemed to excite herself more and more.
- Okay, I give up, I admit that I have not completed all the plot lines of this trilogy, but this is where the complaints end, I hope? – I tried to laugh it off.
- They're just beginning.
“Then let’s get back to my favorite musketeers.” After all, these novels are written to the very end, you won’t argue with that? – it seemed to me that I had finally stood on the solid ground of common sense and strong argumentation.
“Your sloppiness increases towards the end of each novel,” the marquise objected, as if she were blunt.
– You’re talking about replacing the cross with a wedding ring, of course? We've already sorted this out, haven't we?
- If! Have you tried rereading your novels?
– I almost never do this, except when I need to refresh my memory of certain plot lines.
“I’ll now bring you the book “Twenty Years Later,” - with these words the little marquise retired to her room, but soon returned with an excellent edition of the said book, which contained many bookmarks.
Opening the book to one of the pages, she told me to read from the place where her little finger was pointing.
I read the part at the end of the novel where Aramis and Athos are worried about the absence of d'Artagnan and Porthos:
“If you remember, he expected to be here on the fifth.
- And today is the ninth. The deadline expires tonight."
It was the end of the thirty-fifth chapter of the second part.
“Now read here what Athos and Aramis talked about the next day,” and she, having turned three or four pages, again pointed her finger at the text.
To my shame, I read the following text:
“Today is the eighth, the deadline expires in the evening. If we don't hear from them this evening, we'll be on our way tomorrow."
This was the next chapter of the story under the general title “Twenty Years Later.”
“My dear, this is just an ordinary typo,” I tried to laugh it off.
“I idolized you, I trusted you more than my father and mother, and you so frivolously allow such confusion in dates?” – the charming marquise continued to be indignant. – The day after the ninth comes the eighth, instead of the tenth, and the deadline that was named as the ninth suddenly turns into the eighth? What do you call this a small typo? Did you know that I kept a diary of events, and because of typos like these, things always didn’t add up? And the age of the heroes in each novel, if you count it taking into account the so-called difference between the end of the last events of the previous book of the trilogy and the beginning of the events of the subsequent book, as well as taking into account the duration of the events of the book itself, because all this does not add up at all!
– Do you keep a diary? – I was surprised. – It seemed to me that only those events that happen to the author of the diary are written in the diary.
– Don’t these events happen to the reader of the novel? - was the answer.
I capitulated. The only thing that saved me was that it was time for dinner, to which I was solemnly invited, which made it possible to end our conversation, which was not entirely pleasant for me, with a simple, guilty smile from a very pleasant interlocutor. It seems to me that Grimaud would have approved of this last silent phrase of mine.

After an incredibly delicious dinner, which, contrary to my custom, I will not describe so as not to bore the readers, the conversation with the little marquise continued in a more friendly manner. And yet she did not give up her offensive tactics, which I could hardly resist.
“I think you called me a cruel killer of my heroes?” - I said in a rather complacent tone, hoping for a condescending answer, since I myself was in that condescending and complacent mood that the harmony of magnificent hot dishes and cold desserts, offered to you in due order, creates in us.
“And they hid the fate of their children from us!” – the marquise immediately answered.
“For mercy, I told everything that was necessary about the Vicomte de Bragelonne, I traced his fate until his glorious death, and, as far as I know, my musketeers had no other children.”
- They all had children, you know that very well! – the marquise objected categorically.
- Oh, even so? – I was sincerely surprised.
– You yourself reported this! - was the answer.
- Even Aramis, the abbot, a servant of God? – I tried to laugh it off.
“Even Aramis, the abbot, and above all him,” answered the marquise without hesitation. – You write about it yourself!
- For mercy's sake, where?
– You forgot that the son of the Duchess de Longueville, that is, excuse me, Anne Genevieve de Bourbon-Cond;, called Charles-Paris, as you know, was born not from her legal husband, Henry II de Longueville, but from Francois VI de La Rochefoucauld, Prince de Longueville Marcillac. If we take into account that at the beginning of the novel “Twenty Years Later”, Aramis, Abbe d’Herblay, is shown as the lover of this charming duchess, just at the time when Charles-Paris was supposed to be conceived, then according to your version it turns out that exactly Aramis is the true father of Charles-Paris. And, apparently, this child’s first name was given in honor of his wonderful friend Charles d’Artagnan?
“This does not yet prove that the father of the Duchess de Longueville’s child is Aramis,” I said, surprised at the twelve-year-old girl’s knowledge of such delicate and subtle issues.
– But in four other places in your novel it is noted that Aramis is concerned about the fate of this boy! First he speaks of this in the form of demands on Mazarin, insisting that the queen be the godmother of this child, then d'Artagnan conveys this demand to Queen Anne, then you write about the promise of fulfillment of this demand among the achievements of the Fronde negotiators, and finally in the penultimate chapter, Aramis persuades the Duchess de Longueville to come to terms with the agreement, pointing out that the child’s future will be ensured by the fact that the king himself will be his godson.
- My dear marquise! “You know my heroes better than I do, and, apparently, you love them no less than I love them,” I exclaimed in a state of complete delight. - Allow me, in the future, before taking my manuscripts to the publisher, to offer them for reading to you, so that you can point out to me those unforgivable errors against the truth that you so easily find, and which, perhaps, none of the readers have found, if not Did I find them myself?
“I wanted to offer you the same thing, but I didn’t dare,” was the answer from my charming little girl.
“Perhaps, first of all, you can explain to me your idea that all the musketeers had children?” – I asked.
– Ah, the children of musketeers are not at all interesting to me. Your Raoul de Bragelonne is not a person, but a doll, I would not love such a thing.
- Excuse me, why didn’t he please you? – I was indignant.
– Naive, infantile, melancholic. And again, as always, you got the numbers wrong.
- Great God, where?
“Right here,” and the marquise again opened the book on one of the many bookmarks. – Raoul, who was fifteen years old, fell in love with a seven-year-old girl.
- It happens, I guess! – I objected.
- At fifteen years old, a young man can fall in love with a woman older than himself, or with someone the same age, or with a girl somewhat younger than himself, but not with a seven-year-old girl! – my marquise snapped categorically.
– At seven years old, some girls can be very cute! – I answered.
“Let’s read it,” and she began to read aloud. “It’s here: “Already three or four years ago, when he himself was a child, he began to admire this little goddess, he began to please her, and now he will reach the point of adoration if he stays here.” This is Athos speaking.
– What’s strange about this? – I was surprised.
– Three or four years ago Raoul was eleven or twelve years old, and Louise should have been three or four years old. Where have you seen an eleven-year-old fall in love with a three-year-old girl? Or let it be a twelve-year-old who is in love with a four-year-old, the matter does not change. Children with such an age difference do not spend time together. The child learned to speak not so long ago; a young man cannot have carnal feelings for such a child!
– Who knows? – I tried to object, but there was too much uncertainty and doubt in my words.
– That’s why I say that he is infantile, naive, melancholic. To carry through his whole life a child's delight for a girl, which began with the adoration of a three-year-old child, and ended with taking his own life, while his father should, it would seem, on the basis of personal experience, instill in him a restrained feeling towards women, and in every way case to stop such thoughtless worship, deification of a person, a child, who has not yet proven in any way that he deserves not only love, but even just more careful attention than other representatives of this sex.
- I give up! I surrender without a fight, immediately and completely,” was all your humble servant could answer.
“Speaking of surrendering without a fight,” my little tormentor continued. – You, of course, did not re-read the thirty-sixth chapter of this volume? - and she again pointed to the wonderful edition of the book “Twenty Years Later”.
-What's wrong with this chapter?
- Some strange war is described in it. People from the warring camps talk freely with each other, exchanging battle plans, then a mortal battle begins, in which Athos and Aramis unnecessarily join. At the same time, Athos rides in the thick of the battles, leading the attack, and his musket is in a holster and his sword is in its sheath. Knowing that his son, Viscount de Bragelonne, is fighting for the enemy, Athos for some reason leads the attack on this enemy, and Aramis even kills his compatriots. And why on earth is the cavalry squadron subordinate to these two nobles who are not in the service, whom no one introduced to the cavalrymen, to whom no one gave instructions to lead this squadron? Why are they getting involved in a civil war, which they themselves have already defined as a senseless bloodshed? Aramis, as usual, chopped right and left as if drunk, while Athos calmly rode alongside, and no one tried to kill him. Did they fight with the army, or were they driving through a field of sunflowers, which you can chop or not chop at your own discretion? Athos was calm, cold, but at the same time he also led the squadron during the bloodiest battle, and did not receive any injuries. How is this possible? Raoul, who knew that among the opponents could be his father, whom he then considered only a guardian, but, according to you, whom he loved so much that he idolized him, still fights against him, risking the death of both him and his friend Aramis , which almost happens. As soon as these three met, they calmly left the battlefield, although it did not end? Did you know that there are only three ways to leave the battlefield - the way of the winner, the way of the deserter, or as a result of such a serious injury that you will not be able to remain in the ranks, at the risk of being crushed by the hooves of the combatants?
“I admitted that I’m giving up, my dear, because I see that even in military battles you understand much better than me!” – I tried to answer, feigning a half-joking tone, although, I admit, at that moment I was not in the mood for jokes.
“Okay,” the little tormentor answered complacently. “This time I’ll still kiss you on the cheek, as I promised,” she said.
I immediately turned my cheek, she kept her promise, and peace was established between us once and for all.
I said complete peace, but I forgot to mention two other small differences that arose between us.
The first of these differences, I hope, has been settled without much damage to my self-esteem. The point was that d'Artagnan, in the opinion of the little marquise, violated the rules of friendship before going to the queen to sign the agreements reached with Mazarin. In Chapter XLVIII I allowed myself to describe d'Artagnan's doubts about the loyalty of his friends and told about the trick that he used to ensure that each of them would not release Mazarin under any circumstances. To this end, d'Artagnan spoke with each of his friends, calling each the most reliable of the three, and making him doubt the reliability of the other two. According to the marquise, it was meanness, a dishonest act aimed at dividing the four. My dear tormentor called d'Artagnan's act meanness and betrayal.
– My dear marquise, I completely agree with you, recognizing that such a cunning does not honor my hero, but take into account also that all my heroes are ordinary people with their own merits and demerits, and if I wrote their characters only in heroic tones, you would be the first to accuse me of unreliable presentation.
“So be it,” the marquise answered offendedly. “And yet he betrayed friendship, and you betrayed him by describing him as such a schemer, acting against his friends.”
– But he did not act against his friends at all, but rather looked after their interests! – I tried to weakly object. - After all, in the end they only benefited from the fact that they did not release Mazarin!
“They wouldn’t have done it without such a trick!” - exclaimed my marquise with all the ardor and vehemence characteristic of her tender age. -Have you forgotten the motto? One for all and all for one!
- No, my dear, how could I forget the motto, which I myself... Which I learned with such interest from historical documents, of course. I love this motto as if I had come up with it myself.
“They all violated this motto.”
- When?
– I already told you about d’Artagnan.
- It's nothing.
– There are other facts. Let's start with Aramis. He poisoned the general of the Jesuit order. How is he better than Mordaunt, who killed the Lille executioner? But we are talking about the betrayal of friendship. Your Aramis deceived Porthos, dragging him into an alien struggle for Fouquet's power against the power of the king. As a result of his vile intrigues aimed at achieving sole power, the most noble and honest of all four, the mighty Porthos, died.
“He died not as a result of intrigue, but as a result of a coincidence of circumstances.”
- Would he have died if he had stayed in one of his three estates?
- I admit, no.
– And for what purpose did he get involved in this unequal battle that destroyed him?
- He wanted to become a duke, have you forgotten?
- And who awakened these ambitious plans in him? Isn't it Aramis? What purpose? Is it not in order to acquire a reliable assistant, possessing strength, determination and courage, and infinitely trusting his comrade, who, of course, did not deserve such trust?
“Okay, okay, dear marquise, I admit that Aramis was not a man of the highest moral principles, but how else could he have reached such a height as becoming a general of the Jesuit order?”
- Well, he was a Jesuit, and that says it all. He always had Jesuit habits, by the end of the trilogy they completely took over his character, he even hated his former beloved Duchess de Chevreuse, who, by the way, helped them a lot in the first two novels, not to mention the fact that she was a mother Raoul, Viscount de Bragelonne!
- Let's leave Aramis. What do you, dear marquise, have against Athos?
“You constantly call him the glorious Athos, the noble Athos, the ideal of valor and honor...
– I hope you will not dispute the validity of these epithets?
“This glorious and valiant and noble Athos dealt with his young wife only for the reason that he discovered a mark on her shoulder, without even understanding the reasons for this.
“He did it, I assure you, I just didn’t describe his investigations in my novel.”
- So be it! But he allowed reprisals against a defenseless woman, where five men and one executioner, not counting the servants, confronted only her.
“You forget about the crimes she committed.”
- But Athos constantly said, both before this incident and after it, that God’s will, reprisal against a woman does not allow us to speak of him as a holy and noble Athos. A saint must forgive regardless of whether the guilty person deserves forgiveness or does not deserve it. Otherwise it is not a saint!
– I don’t agree on this point; I’ll give the example of St. George, who dealt with the dragon. Milady was a dragon in the form of a woman.
– I won’t argue, although I don’t agree with you. But why didn’t he take my lady’s son in to raise him, why didn’t he raise him to be a noble knight?
– This son had a closer relative, his uncle!
– Which simply threw him out into the street, depriving him of his name and inheritance!
“I assure you, my dear, that Athos had nothing to do with it, and as for Lord Winter, he paid for his deeds, his nephew took revenge on him very cruelly, because he killed him.”
“And what did your noble Athos do with his son and his son’s mother?”
– What doesn’t suit you in his actions, my dear?
“He neglected Raoul’s upbringing. He raised him to be a soldier, apparently so that he would be killed in one of the battles, wasn’t it? He did not at all care about preparing him for life in a court environment; he did not raise him to be a simple nobleman who could live happily, using the wonderful inheritance left to him by his father, who was afraid to call himself a father, and for this reason called himself guardian. He did not teach him the correct attitude towards women, he did not explain to him the error of his youthful love, he did not open his eyes to the fact that this mademoiselle does not deserve love at all. He neglected Raoul, all he could do was hug him tenderly and strictly control his fate.
– Do you require a soldier to be a brilliant educator?
“I demand that my father be a father.” If he himself could not raise his son correctly, he should have invited educators. If a child grows up in the wilderness, where the only female creature is a four-year-old girl with whom he quickly falls in love, these feelings should have been recognized and corrected in a timely manner.
“I see that they lied to me, that you are twelve years old, my dear marquise.” According to your mind, you are all forty years old, I give up!
– It’s just that I didn’t only read your books, Monsieur Dumas.
– Forgive me, I didn’t take that into account. I hope you will not be so harsh towards my dear Porthos?
“You described him as stupid, naive, a glutton and a lover of dubious pleasures, such as poisoning neighbors’ crops and groundless arrogance.”
– Such was the century and such were the heroes of this century, alas!
– He was greedy for women’s charms, as you remember from the first novel, and he also had his eye on Planchet’s wife in the third novel. At the same time, having become a widow, he did not even think about getting married; he left no heirs, despite his enormous fortune and baronial title. What were all these aspirations, this thirst for wealth and nobility? Just to satisfy your own vanity?
“Won’t you forgive him for this?”
- I’ll forgive you, of course! I will even forgive D'Artagnan, although he...
- Although he was a little intriguing so that his three friends would not let Mazarin go?
- Well, what are you talking about! It's the little things!
– What else can you blame him for?
- If Aramis destroyed Porthos, then d'Artagnan destroyed Raoul and Athos.
- How is this possible, my dear?
– After all, it was he who contributed to the rapprochement between the king and Mademoiselle de La Valli;re! If not for this, she would have married Raoul, everything would have ended well! Why did he interfere? Why did he take the king to the monastery where Lavaliere was hiding? If Louise had taken refuge in a monastery, she might have waited for Raoul! Even if she had abandoned social life forever, I think Raoul would not have considered himself so humiliated and so unhappy as to seek death, because he would only have the opportunity to adore her even more and would not be jealous of her for the Lord. I assert that d'Artagnan is the culprit of Raoul's misfortune and death, and since it led to the death of Athos, then he is the culprit of Athos' death.
“But, my dear,” I stammered, not yet imagining that I would be able to object to this stream of accusations.
- I know! - exclaimed the marquise.
– What exactly do you know? – I was surprised.
- I know everything! And that is great! I understand that my accusations are crumbling to dust for a reason that you do not want to tell me about, but which I myself guessed.
“Because...?” I paused, hesitant, wondering what I should say.
“Just admit that Porthos, Athos and d’Artagnan did not die at all,” said the marquise.
“Oh, if so...” I muttered.
- Yes Yes! I guess! I can see in your eyes that I guessed right! - cried my little tormentor, after which she threw herself on my neck and planted another kiss on my cheek.
I confess to you, my dear readers, I was driven, I felt like I was in a trap from which I saw no way out. The kiss of my tormentor was the last point in this battle. I capitulated completely, and this time not as a joke, but as seriously as it could be with me.
“You guessed my plan, my dear, I give up!” – that was all I could answer to this brilliant attack.
“Bring me the manuscript as soon as possible,” demanded the Marquise. “I have to check to see if you got the dates wrong, as has happened before.”
“But the thing is, she’s still... She’s not with me.” It is waiting for me in my house, and it is not completed.
- How? Are you traveling around France without taking with you a manuscript that you haven’t finished working on? – it seemed that the marquise did not believe me.
“I mistakenly put her in the wrong bag, and, alas, she remained waiting for me in my house.”
– But you can request it by mail, can’t you?
– The post office is so unreliable! I'm afraid she might get lost on the road.
- You're right! This priceless manuscript must not be lost. As soon as you return home, be sure to begin finishing this novel. We will not trust the mail with the only copy of your immortal creation, which all readers so expect. It's better to have date errors than to risk getting lost in the mail. As soon as you finish it, take it to the publisher, but I hope to receive the first copy of this book from you as quickly as possible.
“Everything will be exactly as you say, my dear!” - I answered, and tearing a kiss from the forehead of this lovely flower with such sharp thorns, I hastened to end my visit, fearing not so much for my reputation as for my frayed nerves and my imagination. Even at my age it was not enough for me to fall in love with this young scoundrel. I'm not Mister Raoul. These jokes won't work with me.
To remind myself that I was just dealing with a little girl, I tried to joke and said with a soft smile:
– I assumed that my book “Tales of Aramis” would be more suitable for reading for the charming marquise...
In response, the impudent little marquise burst into a whole tirade:
- Tales of Aramis! You wrote that the musketeer abbot Aramis told these tales to his son, that is, the son of the Duchess de Longueville, but you and I know who the father of this young man was! So then explain to me, my dear writer, why Aramis mentions books about Robinson Crusoe and Gulliver? I mean the tale of Pierre and his goose. If I'm not mistaken, the book about Robinson Crusoe was first published in 1716, the book about Gulliver was first published in 1726, and its translation into French appeared a year later, in 1727. D'Artagnan speaks about Aramis's age in the novel 20 years later, at his first meeting, in the tenth chapter. He says that he himself is forty years old, and Aramis is two or three years older than him. This means that Aramis was forty-two, in the novel “Ten Years Later” he should already be older than 53-54 years old, and the novel begins even before Mazarin died, who died in 1661. This means that Aramis was born no later than approximately 1608. In the year Gulliver's Travels was published in French, Aramis would have been 118 years old! After all, Pierre Desfontaines translated the book into French only in 1727! And Pierre from the fairy tale speaks of these books as if they were familiar to him, which he could not get bored with. This means that Gulliver was translated into French quite a long time ago, since Pierre did not know English, he was ignorant. At the same time, Aramis tells the tale as if it were about the distant past! To whom? To your little son? And this son was supposed to be born in 1652. So Aramis, who is at least 118 years old, tells a fairy tale to his son, who, excuse me, is 67 years old? My dear writer, my idol Alexandre Dumas, what do you think about all this?
“Perhaps I’m not too good at mathematics,” I tried to take the edge off the tension in our dialogue with these words.
– Regarding “Tales of Aramis”, you have proven this superbly to all your readers! - was the answer of my little marquise.
After that, she ran to her room, from where she just as quickly came running with the book “Tales of Aramis” in her delicate little hands. Almost instantly she opened the book to the right page and said:
– The Little Mermaid swam to the surface of the sea for the first time on her fifteenth birthday. On this day, she met a ship on which they celebrated the prince's birthday. We read: “He had just turned sixteen, and his birthday was celebrated on board the yacht.” So, the prince was exactly one year older than the little mermaid, and they had the same birthday. “After flipping through a few pages, she read further, “So days passed by days, and the sea princess reached her eighteenth birthday. The prince turned twenty-five.” In the three years that the little mermaid has matured, the prince has matured by nine years! He was only one year older than her, but now he is seven years older than her! You, Mr. Writer, have big problems with mathematics!
I raised my eyebrows high, stretched my mouth to my ears in a stupid smile, shrugged my shoulders and spread my arms. In Grimaud's language this meant: "I hope, dear marquise, you understand that I have nothing to say except that I hope for your indulgence."

* * *

Thus, my dear readers, you know everything. I could not turn out to be a liar in the eyes of this worthless and charming child, so upon returning home I began to complete the work, which at the time of its discussion had not even been begun.
I now offer this work to my supportive readers and ask you not to judge me as harshly as the little marquise has already done.
I only sketched out the outline of the fourth novel and the title Two Years Later.
But my publishers did not give me time to start this novel, because they demanded the speedy completion of the already promised novels.
I think that if I had revealed to them the plan for my new novel, they would have given me plenty of time and unlimited credit, but I wanted to keep secret the work on this unexpected sequel - a continuation of a book that, by all standards, should be perceived as finished.
So, for a long time I only had a plan, and a great hope that I would find the time and energy to write my new novel, perhaps the best, according to this plan.
But one day the time came when I accidentally saw this plan among the papers, and since this time I was relatively free, I sat down and in several sleepless nights wrote my new novel, which I called ...

D'Artagnan and the Iron Mask or two years later

The third book of The Vicomte de Bragelonne tells how Aramis plotted to replace King Louis XIV with his twin brother Philippe, who is hidden from everyone in the Bastille and forced to wear an iron mask whenever his jailers visit him to take food or do cleaning. in the cell. Aramis learned this secret from his good friend the Duchess de Chevreuse. The same secret helped Aramis become a general of the Jesuit Order, which gave him power over all those initiated into the mysteries of the Order. Aramis hatched the plan to replace the King not only with the aim of protecting his friend and patron, Superintendent of Finance Nicolas Fouquet, whom the King’s tireless minister Jean-Baptiste Colbert set as his goal to crush, but more so in order to become the shadow de facto head of France, nurturing in that including plans to take the throne of the Pope. For these purposes, Aramis attracted the naive Porthos, convincing him that they were carrying out a secret order from the King to neutralize the impostor, as a result of which the King promised, in gratitude, to elevate Porthos to the rank of duke.
Meanwhile, the young King Louis XIV was inflamed with sincere love for the poor noblewoman Louise de La Valliere, who was on the staff of ladies-in-waiting for his brother’s wife, Princess Henrietta. His love began with the fact that he began to court her to divert his eyes from the true flirtation with Henrietta herself, but, admiring the sincerity and purity of Louise, as well as accidentally overhearing her declaration of love for him, which was intended only for the ears of her friends, The king completely neglected his infatuation with his sister-in-law and all his thoughts focused on Louise. With the help of his friend and courtier de Saint-Aignan, the King, using various tricks, received from Louise the highest evidence of her love, after which their meetings became regular and far from platonic. Louise's ex-fianc;, Viscount de Bragelonne, found out about this and challenged de Saint-Aignan to a duel, but the cowardly courtier did not appear under the pretext that at that time he was with the King and carried out his orders. The father of the offended young man came to the King and expressed all his dissatisfaction to him, reproaching him that the King should be the true father of his most faithful subjects, therefore the love of others should remain inviolable. The enraged Louis ordered the arrest of Athos, entrusting this to his best friend d'Artagnan, who was in royal service as captain of the royal musketeers.
In the twenty-second chapter of the book, I talked about how the King instructed d'Artagnan to arrest the Comte de La F;re only because he had the audacity to stand up for the outraged honor of his son, Viscount de Bragelonne. The brave Gascon invited his friend to go wherever he wished, completely ignoring the mortal danger to which he himself would be exposed in this case as a result of failure to comply with the order of the King, which, moreover, he had in writing with the handwritten signature of His Majesty. But the count insisted that d'Artagnan take him to the Bastille. These are the two phrases that our faithful friends exchanged before leaving.
“But you agree with me, you agree that God will avenge me, don’t you, d’Artagnan?” - said Athos.
“And I know people on earth who would be willing to help him with this,” added d’Artagnan.
Of course, you guessed that d'Artagnan, first of all, meant himself, as well as the faithful Porthos and Aramis.
So, our friends were together again, and they were united not only by decades-tested friendship, but also by their common hatred of the King, Louis XIV , who encroached on the honor of the nobles, when only their lives could belong to him.
Perhaps our readers decided that as soon as d'Artagnan managed to persuade the King to cancel his order to arrest the Comte de La F;re, these words lost their ominous meaning? Let me remind you that it was not the arrest that upset Athos, but the violation of the youthful love of his beloved son Raoul. The way this monarch dishonorably trampled love, and with it the honor and life of the unfortunate Raoul, could not be forgotten after a simple incident with the order of arrest and the order to cancel the arrest of the count. This is just the background against which a storm of indignation arose in the heart of noble Athos.
As for Aramis, he had long been the worst enemy of Louis XIV and hatched an insidious but effective plan to replace him with his no less royal brother Philip, who had exactly the same rights to the throne, and perhaps more. After all, it is known that the right of primogeniture among twins was a very complex legal problem. While some lawyers believed that the eldest son should be recognized as the one who was born first, others insisted that only the King gives birth to the Dauphin with his royal seed, that is, he, as it were, invests an heir in the Queen, and in this case, that what is placed earlier is removed later, and vice versa, what is placed later is removed earlier. According to this logic, it was Philip who was conceived before Louis, so he had more rights to the Crown of France. If not for this legal incident, which, of course, Richelieu knew about, Philip would not have needed to be hidden from the people, because in the event of an unambiguous establishment of seniority, the one who would be recognized as the eldest would be the first heir to the crown, and the one who, beyond any doubt, would definitely have been recognized as the younger brother, would have remained only the heir of this older brother, and could have claimed the throne only in the event of his death, if he had not left a male heir. Thus, neither the Cardinal, nor the King, nor a human court could establish for certain which of the two brothers had the greater claim to the French crown.


I. Night conversation

Remember how Aramis kidnapped Philip, the King's brother, from the Bastille. After Aramis, whom the reader also knows as the Chevalier d'Herblay, Bishop of Van, explained to young Philip the whole situation, which, in short, was that Philip was the King's brother, he was also like two peas in a pod similar to him, and by all human and divine law as a full-fledged contender for the Crown of France, like his twin brother Louis XIV , Aramis also wanted to make sure that Philip was ready to go to the end in order to regain what belonged to him by right of birth The crown, France and family, the right to live freely, to love and be loved, as well as the right to rule over your subjects. Aramis laid all this at the feet of the amazed Philip, but for this right it was necessary to fight seriously. Will young Philip have the strength to do this?
“We are going for the crown of France,” Philip said sharply.
- Is this your decision, prince? - asked Aramis.
- Yes, and unyielding.
- You will be a great monarch, monsignor!
It was a memorable conversation between Aramis and Philip, the King's brother, the twin who had been hidden in the Bastille for so long.
We forgot to mention that Philip really wanted to ask Aramis about the mysterious lady he had met several times. This lady was the daughter of Marshal de Gramont, Catherine Charlotte de Gramont, Duchess of Valantinois, Princess of Monaco. These meetings have already been described in the novel “Princess of Monaco,” and we will not bore the reader with their retelling. Let us only note that these meetings sank deeply into the soul of young Philip, and he dreamed of meeting the mysterious stranger again no less, and perhaps even more, than of occupying that high position that was for him intended by this mysterious gentleman d'Herblay, called Aramis, and, apparently, occupying the post of Bishop of Van.
So the two were talking about the future. Aramis wanted to make sure that Philip would go with him to the end, would take the blasphemous action of arresting the King and replacing him with his double, with his exact copy, with his own twin brother, whose existence only Aramis, the Queen, knew about. the Duchess de Chevreuse and himself. This great secret was now about to unfold like a compressed spring, which with incredible force was supposed to sweep away all obstacles and reorganize the world, perhaps not only in France, but throughout Europe.
Having made sure of the determination of the rescued prisoner, Aramis made sure that Philip remembered all the necessary information well enough. In his notes, he gave comprehensive characteristics of all those with whom Philip was to meet, because he had to recognize them and behave with them naturally, as if he had known them for a long time. This was an extremely heavy load on the young man’s memory, but fortunately he had an excellent memory. He then briefly discussed future plans with Philip.
“You provided me with notes, to which you attached portraits of the persons you described. They are drawn with such skill that there can be no mistake. I have memorized your notes, and the portraits of these people are so firmly imprinted in my memory that sometimes it seems to me that I actually know all these people.
- Excellent, Monsignor!
“The prince, my brother, does not love his wife, Henrietta. I, Louis the Fourteenth, once loved her a little, but that has already passed, and now I love Mademoiselle de La Valli;re.
“You should beware of this mademoiselle in particular and at the first opportunity, but still gradually demonstrate a cooling towards her in order to remove her as far as possible. The monastery will do. Lavaliere truly loves the King. Loves you, Your Majesty. currently reigning monarch. And there is nothing more difficult than deceiving the observation of a loving woman.
“I will do my best so that first she accepts me, and then we will part.”
- Yes, yes. It's decided. Do you know your ministers?
- Colbert and Fouquet.
- Fouquet and Colbert. Fouquet is the first and we want him to remain so. Colbert is just a pathetic shadow.
— Colbert is ugly, but smart. He is the mortal enemy of M. Fouquet. It would be better for him and for France if he went into exile, but not immediately, so that he would not be able to resist it. Do I understand my task correctly?
Delighted Aramis exclaimed:
- Exactly! But I didn’t tell you this! You will be a great monarch, my prince.
- With your and God's help, I hope.
“Most of all, Your Majesty,” Aramis modestly lowered his eyes to the Prince’s feet, adding quietly, “let me call you this way... Most of all, Your Majesty, you should beware of Monsieur d’Artagnan, the captain of the royal musketeers.”
“I remember him, he accompanied La Valli;re to Chaillot; he captured and delivered General Monk in a chest to King Charles the Second. Besides, he served my mother admirably and even did her some special favor, not without your help, as far as I know? And most importantly, he is your friend, isn’t he? Why should I be afraid of him?
“You have to hide some secrets even from your best friend, Your Majesty.” Sometimes it seems to me that I am not even too frank with myself. But this does not concern you, Your Majesty, everything I tell you is the absolute truth.
“But people always deceive with precisely these words, don’t they?” But I believe you.
“You are extremely perceptive, Your Majesty.” Indeed, not everyone who says they are telling the truth is actually telling the truth. Ask your heart.
“I believe you, Mister Bishop, I just wanted to understand why you didn’t attract your best friend, as you say, to your side?”
- Everything has its time. I’m not so naive as to share all my plans with d’Artagnan, but I’m also not so crazy as to cherish the hope of hiding anything significant from him for a long time. Sooner or later he will find out about any secret, so it will be much better if he learns this secret directly from me, but only when he cannot or does not want to interfere with our plans. It’s better if he can’t and doesn’t want to. More precisely, he will not want to come first, since in relation to this Gascon I would not dare to say that there is anything that he cannot achieve. But, believe me, Your Majesty, M. d'Artagnan's convictions are such that we cannot expect from him complete and unconditional agreement with our plans.
“I trust you completely in this matter, Mister Bishop.”
— In this matter, first of all, but in other matters, I hope, as well.
- Undoubtedly. But we have not sufficiently discussed my line of conduct towards M. Fouquet. What should we do with him?
- He is the superintendent of finance, this is his pinnacle, let him remain in this position, although he certainly aims higher.
- How much higher? Is he also aiming to become a king?
- Who knows, Your Majesty? His motto is “Wherever I climb!” doesn't it speak for itself?
“But the position of the King is not the highest position under the sun.” I won’t say that the Pope is more important, but to a certain extent...
“There are people, Your Majesty, who plan to become Pope, even without being cardinals at the present time,” said Aramis and blushed, “However, this position is not the highest.”
- Do you mean - to become the Lord himself, forgive me, Lord, my words?
“One Jewish boy managed to do this,” Aramis grinned, “but I had something else in mind.” There are people in Europe who have power, believe me, much stronger than the power of the Pope or any King, although they are, of course, not so noticeable, or even invisible. But we will not discuss this topic now.
- Fine! So, Monsieur Fouquet, Superintendent of Finance... But isn't he the First Minister?
- Not really. The position of First Minister is currently vacant.
- Such an inexperienced King as I will be, of course, needs a first minister.
“It’s not about the title of the position, but about the true position of the person.” A position puts a person on public display, whereas a true good friend, mentor and advisor may not be visible to outsiders, and this gives him some advantages, don’t you think? Will Your Majesty need a true friend?
- My only and true friend is you, no others are needed. If I talked about a position, it was only for routine matters.
— There are no routine affairs for the King, just as there are no such things for the First Minister. There are only things that he can, as a last resort, entrust to others, and there are things that need to be done personally, and there are many more such things.
“I’ll try to remember this lesson too, Mister Bishop.”
- You will, of course, have many people who - all of them - will assure you of their devotion. Whole France! But I believe there is no one as devoted as I am among them.
- You are quite enough. So, you will be my first minister, d'Herblay.
“Perhaps this position will facilitate our communication.” But don't do it too quickly, Your Majesty. This is one of those events that can explain too much to d'Artagnan. But even if such an event did not explain everything to him, it would puzzle him, and d'Artagnan hated being puzzled. He certainly wants to reveal any secret, and if he gets into it... Yes, however, even at court, such a rapid rise of a little-known bishop would give rise to unnecessary rumors and suspicions.
- Richelieu was also a bishop.
— Richelieu was a cardinal. Great cardinal.
- The same sequence awaits you. First the cardinal, then the first minister.
“ Perhaps it will indeed be much better to follow the time-tested sequence,” said Aramis, bowing at the same time and hiding a smile, “if I become first minister only after you make me a cardinal.”
“I hope that you will have the cardinal’s hat in two months at the latest, Mister Bishop.” In three months you will be First Minister, and I hope you have something else that you forgot to ask for, or put off for a more convenient time. It will be better if you ask for it now, because it will be calmer for both me and you. You will not offend me if you ask for more, but if you limit yourself to only what has already been said, you will greatly upset me.
- We will help each other rise, Your Majesty...
The young man raised his head sharply and looked straight at his interlocutor.
- So you claim the throne of St. Peter.
“Perhaps I didn’t speak out quite clearly.”
“It couldn’t be clearer, and that suits me perfectly, Monsieur d’Herblay.” Why not? I do not know anyone more worthy of this throne than you, and therefore nothing will stop me from making every effort for this. But will the efforts of the King of France be enough?
- The France of today may not be enough, but the France that you and I, Your Majesty, will make tomorrow - believe me, that future France will easily solve this issue. And since France is you, Your Majesty, I believe that I have very good chances.
“That’s right, Monsieur d’Herblay.” I’m already embarrassed to call you a bishop!
- The address “Monsieur d'Herblay” is quite suitable.
“I am happy and proud that I understood your plan to the end, Monsieur d’Herblay, and I approve of it completely.” You will be a cardinal, then I will appoint you first minister, then you will tell me what must be done to be elected pope; and I will do it exactly. What guarantees do you need?
“You already gave them to me, Your Majesty, your words are the best guarantee.” More precisely, I don’t need any guarantees, it’s enough that you understand me.
- Do I understand you? Oh, I understand you like no one else! But let's continue. So, Louis XVI , my brother... Will he disappear?
- For everyone - no, because you will take his place. In fact, yes. Everything is ready, the plan is extremely reliable. He will go to sleep in his own bed, and wake up in the bed in which you spent so many years, and where you will never return. You will wake up in his bed, which will now be yours forever.
- So, violence.
- Kidnapping, Your Majesty. Painless, silent, for the benefit of the state. We will kidnap him along with his bed, he may not even wake up. A silent and extremely reliable mechanism will lower his bed, along with part of the floor, into the lower room, where we will carry out the replacement, after which the same mechanism will return the bed to its original place. What will happen next to Louis should not bother you; he will not be subject to any inconvenience, except for the restriction of his movements within the room known to you. He will wake up in prison, in the very cell where he so mercilessly imprisoned you. From now on, you will be the King of France, and France will flourish under your wise leadership and with my humble help as adviser and friend.
- Hands down, Monsieur d'Herblay!
“Allow me, Your Majesty, to kneel respectfully before you and kiss your hand.”
- That's all - no earlier than tomorrow, but today just shake my hand and hug me, Monsieur d'Herblay! Be kind to me, be my father.
Aramis shuddered all over. Never before had he applied this word to himself, and he was amazed to the depths of his soul that it could be applied to him. His head went spinning, it seemed to him that a previously unfamiliar feeling of fatherly tenderness for this young man arose in his heart, his head began to spin. However, he quickly pulled himself together. He suddenly remembered that many times he had heard the address “father” in relation to himself, a minister of the church. Therefore, he suppressed the desire to accept the young man into his fatherly arms, and instead crossed him, saying barely audibly:
- I bless you, my son! May our heavenly Lord be with you in everything, and may his will be done. Amen.
They returned to the carriage, which rushed them to Vaux-le-Vicomte.

II. D'Artagnan's suspicions

D'Artagnan, as readers of my novel "The Vicomte de Bragelonne" will remember, discovered that Aramis demanded and received from the tailor samples of fabrics from which the King's costumes were sewn especially for the holiday. In addition, Aramis received sketches of these costumes at his disposal. From these two known facts, d'Artagnan easily deduced that Aramis intended to have exact copies of all the King's costumes at the upcoming festival. Dressing someone up in the King's costume was an unheard-of audacity, and it was not in Aramis's rules to have fun in such a way. Everything that Aramis did necessarily had some meaning, this applied even to his many amorous exploits. Even less realistic would be Aramis's intention to dress trivial mannequins in these costumes. Therefore, this someone dressed as a King would have to serve some specific purpose for Aramis.
But everyone knows the King by sight! Perhaps this man in the King's costume could portray His Majesty for some time, provided that he was wearing a mask, but, firstly, there would be little point in this - portraying the King at a masquerade, where the King himself is present, firstly secondly, one could hardly expect that this mummer could somehow significantly influence politics - and Aramis was engaged only in politics and nothing more - so that later the King would not be able to cancel any such daring order.
Consequently, firstly, the King will have to be absent from the performance where the costumed Aramis will portray him, and secondly, it must be ensured that he does not later cancel the orders he has made. Consequently, these orders should have been such that they would never be discussed later, and secondly, they should somehow contribute to Aramis’s fight against Colbert. However, Colbert is not a value on which Aramis would spend other people’s millions or his own months of his life, and we were talking about such a long preparation for something special. If not against Colbert, then for someone stronger, of course, for Mr. Fouquet. But Mr. Fouquet was such a figure with whom it was impossible to do anything significant without the King knowing about it, and so that the King would never inquire about the reasons for any significant consequences in changing his fate.
“Think, d’Artagnan,” the captain of the musketeers exclaimed to himself and began to twirl his left mustache even more furiously.
“So,” he continued to reason with himself, “a double of the King appears, and the King disappears for a while.” Curious! But what then? If the King disappears only for a while, there is absolutely no point in it. And if the King disappears forever, then the double must be so similar to the original that even his own mother cannot distinguish one from the other? Stop! I knew a family with twin brothers! But what happens in this case? Did the King have a twin brother? And France was not informed about this? Only one person could dare to do this; only the great Cardinal Richelieu could so boldly encroach on the royal heir as to remove him from social life. But this particular person was there, at the right time and in the right place! How could he hide this secret? How all such secrets are hidden - everyone who could know about it had to disappear, or be silent forever.
D'Artagnan slapped his thigh and exclaimed:
- It seems we are getting close to the solution? So, what could anyone know about such a state secret? The King Father, this is all clear, at Richelieu’s order he would have kept silent, but now he will no longer be able to tell anyone anything. The Queen Mother is still alive, but she is unlikely to tell anyone about it. Perhaps she was not initiated into this secret, or they were convinced that the second baby died. Midwife, doctor, and other obligatory witnesses. At the birth of the King's eldest son, many are present; you cannot silence everyone. Except that they were kicked out immediately after the birth of the first baby, and the birth of the second took place behind closed doors. The midwife, of course, was dealt with, or hidden somewhere where she would not tell anyone anything, for example, in the Bastille. However, perhaps she became both a wet nurse and a teacher of the second baby. La Porte - he's dead, and it doesn't matter whether he knew anything or not. I absolutely do not understand how Aramis could know this secret!
At these words, d'Artagnan thought for a couple of seconds, after which he slapped his thigh again, this time much harder.
- I’m still an impenetrable dumbass! — he paid himself an unflattering compliment. - Marie Michonne! The Duchess de Chevreuse, whom this womanizer called the seamstress Marie Michon, this confidante and intimate friend of Queen Anne, she could know, and Aramis could know from her. Even if a woman does not keep her secrets, she divulges them only to those she loves. Aramis, of course, would not have told the duchess anything ten times less important, but the duchess herself could, if not tell Aramis the whole truth, tell enough for him to find out the rest himself without her help. Well. The situation would become clearer if I weren't d'Artagnan! Today you should talk to Aramis and sound him out on this topic.
And d'Artagnan went to Aramis immediately. He did not come up with a reason for the visit, since, based on the rights of more than thirty years of friendship, he did not need such reasons. He wanted to open the doors without reporting, however, remembering that he was visiting the bishop after all, he ordered him to report himself. He found Aramis in a magnificently furnished room provided to him by Mr. Fouquet.
After friendly shakes that turned into hugs and conversations about trifles, the very moment came when both the visitor and the visited realized that they had something serious to talk about, so conversations about the weather, about hunting, and even memories of glorious past military campaigns were no longer inappropriate , it's time for a serious conversation. However, realizing this, both of them spoke as if nothing had happened, with that carefree expression on their faces and that same frivolous tone in which men speak in smoking rooms when they do not feel any power over themselves - neither a woman’s ear, nor bossy eyes, no spies, no envious people.
“So we met in such a remarkable place, in this stunning palace in Vaud,” said d’Artagnan.
- What do you say about this place, d'Artagnan? Do you like it here?
- Incomparable! I'm not used to such luxury, not like you, Aramis.
- You flatter me, d'Artagnan! I'm just a humble abbot, or a musketeer, choose what you like best, I still haven't decided. And these two people in me, each in their own way, are as modest as you, d’Artagnan. This luxury is rare in my life.
- So be it! – D’Artagnan agreed, still recalling the situation in the house of the Van bishop, deciding that there was no point in arguing over trifles. It is likely that Aramis deliberately talked about his modesty in order to drag d'Artagnan into an empty argument and distract him from the main topic, so d'Artagnan calmly continued. – We had to spend the night both in the open air and in a trench, how can we forget that? But Mr. Fouquet is still an amazing person! Such a luxurious castle outshines even the royal palace. How did he manage to build it in such a short time, and furnish it so wonderfully? Apparently a hundred architects worked here?
- Dear d'Artagnan, I have already told you that I am not good at mathematics. For me, a hundred or several dozen are the same thing.
“ He’s a charming man, this Fouquet, isn’t he?” - continued d'Artagnan.
- Charming, that's right!
- To the highest degree. They say that the King was cold towards him at first, but after some time he softened.
“Anyone who gets to know Mr. Fouquet better begins to treat him better.”
“You, Aramis, know him very well, because you are one of his closest friends!” I wish I had friends like that too.
“For me, Fouquet is no greater friend than you, d’Artagnan, and will never become anything more,” Aramis objected, “but if you believe that Fouquet is my friend, then he is your friend too!” After all, it is said that the friends of my friends are my friends.
“I’ve never heard such a saying, but even if it were so, would it be true to say that all the friends of one person, say you, Aramis, must certainly be friends with each other?”
- How else? exclaimed Aramis.
- Let's not talk about us. As you know, the King has many friends, among them Monsieur Fouquet and Monsieur Colbert, but these two gentlemen are not friends of each other.
- And you? – Aramis asked softly. – Which of these two would you rather call your friend?
- For mercy, Aramis! None of them! There are no financiers among my friends. The intendant of finance, or even more so the superintendent, is too much for a simple Gascon.
“Too much for Athos, and too little for the Comte de La F;re,” as our noble Athos said,” Aramis smiled.
- Right! By the way, where is he now, do you know?
- Probably at home, in Blois, or in Bragelonne.
- And that’s true.
D'Artagnan stood up, walked up to his friend, took him by both hands, and, looking into his eyes, said:
“Aramis, in the name of our dear Athos, in the name of our invincible four, in the name of our glorious youth, I ask you, do you continue to love me even a little?”
Aramis instantly became serious and replied:
“You don’t have to ask, d’Artagnan, just as I don’t ask you the same thing.” If you need my life for yours, or just for any reason, take it. After all, you, without hesitation, would do the same! Why these strange questions?
- Because I would like to ask a question to that Aramis, who, without hesitation, would give his life for me. Do me a favor, tell me why you took samples of the fabrics of the costume that the King will be wearing at the festival?
Aramis regained his carelessness and answered in the most cheerful mood:
“The fact is that without samples of fabric, a portrait of His Majesty can be painted well, but it is impossible to paint it perfectly, and Monsieur Fouquet can never be satisfied with the word “good” when it comes to courtesy to the King. Only "excellent".
“Aramis, this is true for everyone, but not for me,” d’Artagnan said sadly.
- Really, d'Artagnan, where does such distrust come from?
— I assume that Mr. Fouquet is not aware of your idea with samples of fabrics for the portrait?
“On the contrary, he fully supports this idea.” That is, this idea belongs to him.
- Be honest with me. What are you up to?
“At the moment, M. Fouquet and I have only one thing in mind: to please our King.”
“Dear Aramis, whatever your plans are, sooner or later I will recognize them.”
“So, dear friend,” the bishop picked up with a laugh, “it’s still early.”
- No, dear Aramis. This means that it may happen too late.
D'Artagnan shook his head sadly.
- Friendship, friendship! - he said. “She is so easily sacrificed for the sake of intrigue.”
“Don’t talk about our friendship like that,” the bishop answered firmly. “She is not one that can be sacrificed for anything.”
“Look, Aramis, how dilapidated it is.” You use Porthos without his knowledge, without telling him about your plans. Well, that's probably for the best.
- Do you see?
“I said “maybe,” but I’m not sure because I don’t know your plans.
- God! What other plans?
“You are deceiving me, and in return I suspect you of deception.”
- So cast aside your suspicions!
- So throw away your secrecy, Aramis!
- She’s gone!
- I would like to believe.
“I can only tell you that if sometimes I am not frank enough with you, then this is not my secret, and that there will be no harm to you from this.” On the contrary, you will only benefit from this, and you will definitely get your share.
“This is what worries me, Aramis!” I don't like it when people make bets on my behalf in a game I don't know about.
— Even if these bets are not made with your money? – Aramis grinned.
- Even so, even if they are done in my name and for my benefit! - D'Artagnan objected.
“We're just settling our little affairs and eliminating our little troubles,” Aramis countered.
— Mister Colbert? - asked d'Artagnan.
“I can’t hide anything from you, d’Artagnan!” - Aramis said with relief, but he could not hide the contemptuous grin that flashed across his face.
- This is too small for you and for Fouquet.
- What is higher than this?
- What or who? You know it yourself. Should I name it?
- Name it!
“Aramis, you are plotting against the King.” Tell me what your plan is, and then we will discuss...
- I'm not doing anything.
- We will discuss how you can get out of this intrigue.
- Intrigue? Against the King! - the bishop cried with feigned indignation.
- If not intrigue, then crime.
- My God! - Aramis laughed forcedly, but regaining control of himself, he asked sharply, “If so, then whose side would you be on, d’Artagnan?”
- On yours, Aramis!
- So you would agree to help me?
- Better! I would interfere with you to save you from yourself!
-Are you crazy, d'Artagnan! But, fortunately, you are wrong, and nothing like that happens.
“Of the two of us, I am sane than you.”
“And you...” Aramis continued, “can you suspect me of preparing to kill the King?”
- In relation to this person, a crime is not only murder, but also any attempt to restrict him in his freedom or in his actions! - the musketeer said harshly.
“I assure you, d’Artagnan, His Majesty is in no danger.” I assure you that from the castle of Vaud he will return to the Louvre as free as he was before his departure.
D'Artagnan shrugged.
“And on the grounds of the castle...” he continued with ostentatious indifference.
- Both on the territory of the castle and everywhere within your kingdom. The King of France is at home in any castle in France, in any house or in any palace.
- Or even in the fortress? - D'Artagnan asked coldly.
“And in the fortress - like nowhere else,” answered Aramis, and not a single muscle of his face flinched.
-You're right, Aramis. I was just too tired from moving. “Let’s forget this conversation,” said d’Artagnan in a conciliatory tone and hugged Aramis again.
- Of course, my friend! Relax! You need rest.
“Who would have given it to me!” - D'Artagnan thought to himself.
“If there is a person in the world on whom fatigue has no effect, then it is d’Artagnan,” thought Aramis.
“I’ll take you to Porthos, because you seem to miss him too?” – said Aramis, turning the conversation to another topic.
- Does he have a separate room? – d'Artagnan was surprised. - And how far is it from yours?
“If Porthos had snored a little more quietly, or if my old age had not made my sleep so restless and sensitive to the slightest sounds, we would certainly have lived in the same room, or in adjacent rooms, but...”
- Understand! - d'Artagnan laughed with the most carefree look.
Porthos welcomed d'Artagnan with open arms. Having vented his complaints about the extreme fragility of M. Fouquet's furniture and dishes, Porthos paid tribute to his cooks and gardeners.
— What can you say about the layout of the castle and the furnishings? – asked d'Artagnan.
- She's gorgeous! - Porthos answered innocently.
“Aren’t some things arranged here according to your drawings?” For example, the King's chambers? - continued d'Artagnan.
- According to my drawings? - Porthos asked in surprise. - Oh yes, is that what you mean? This engineering work in the fortress? Well, I admit, Aramis and I... That is, I proposed something to Mr. Fouquet, to which he happily agreed.
“I had no doubt about it, dear Porthos!” - answered d'Artagnan, while his face shone with joy and complete approval of Porthos' words.

III. Evening audience

Meanwhile, the King, tired of the fun at the ball, went to his bedroom, ordering to invite Mr. Colbert there for a conversation. Entering the luxurious apartment that Monsieur Fouquet had prepared for him, Louis involuntarily compared it to that shabby bed, covered with threadbare sheets, on which he spent his troubled childhood. And although quite a few years separated him from that difficult time, in the depths of his soul from time to time he was surprised at the contrast between the current luxury and the economy in which he had to remain until his coming of age, or, more precisely, until the death of Cardinal Mazarin, who shamelessly stole from the royal family.
Louis, of course, could not know that his conversation alone in the bedroom, which he considered his own by right of sovereign, could be overheard by someone; such insolence could well be punished by death. Meanwhile, two conspirators - Aramis and Philip - not only eavesdropped on him, but also spied on him through a secret hole in the floor, which went into the middle of one of the rosettes on the ceiling, so that nothing gave them away, provided that the light in the upper room above the King's bedroom was extinguished. Aramis insisted that the Prince study the procedure for putting the King to bed in as much detail as possible; he did not imagine that he would witness the King's secret conversation with Colbert. Philip clung to the hole and held his breath.
Colbert, meanwhile, carefully knocked on the door of the King’s bedroom, and hearing a quiet “Come in!”, he entered with that soft gait characteristic of him, with his hands folded on his chest, which could equally be taken for the humility demonstrated by the clergy and for the pose of some mysterious insect preparing to strike a fatal blow . The king, in violation of etiquette, invited Colbert to sit by the bed.
The quartermaster bowed deeply in gratitude for the honor, but refrained from taking advantage of it.
“I don’t dare sit in your presence, Your Majesty,” Colbert stammered, probably hoping that a repeat invitation would follow and made promises to himself to take advantage of it, but the King only coldly replied:
- As you wish.
Colbert bowed even lower before the King, while the King, on the contrary, pointedly straightened up.
“Mr. Colbert,” he said, “today, as if you decided to contradict me in everything?” Is this a riot?
“Only extreme respect and concern for the welfare of Your Majesty...” Colbert stammered.
“There is nothing more painful than an importunate concern for the good, when people contradict you and persuade you to do something that you did not intend to do.” I endured similar tyranny from Mother Queen, out of respect for her I also tolerated it from the Cardinal, but my patience is not unlimited, Colbert! I can take care of my own well-being, and I will not allow anyone to take care of me like a small child. However, in order to object to the King, one must have sufficient courage. Your stubbornness will be forgiven if there are sufficient reasons for it.
“I was just worried about you, Your Majesty!”
“What reasons could there be for concern when I am visiting my dear Mr. Fouquet, who, it seems to me, has tried quite hard to please me?”
“Perhaps I tried too hard.”
“Are you hinting at excessive luxury, Colbert?” Can luxury be excessive when a subject receives his King?
“Of course it cannot, except in those cases when this luxury is paid for from the King’s treasury without his knowledge, Your Majesty.”
-What do you mean, Colbert? Is Fouquet robbing me?
— The right to use the state treasury belongs, of course, to Your Majesty’s Superintendent of Finance, but he does not have the right to uncontrolled use.
- So, he's robbing me! I demand details and proof, Colbert!
“Are you familiar with the handwriting of the late cardinal, Your Majesty?”
- Undoubtedly.
“Then read this letter.”
Louis XIV took the letter handed to him from Colbert's hands.
- Yes, this is his handwriting! - exclaimed the King.
“I would not dare to suggest that Your Majesty read a copy or a fake,” Colbert noted with a bow.
The king read Mazarin's letter twice.
“I don’t quite understand what we’re talking about here,” said the King, and turned it over, as if he expected that there were also some notes on the other side. “I just see that we are talking about money given to M. Fouquet by the cardinal.” Thirteen million. Not a bad amount!
- Very significant, Your Majesty! Colbert noted.
- What was it spent on? — the King asked keenly.
— Unfortunately, there is no information about this in all financial statements.
- Does this mean that the indicated thirteen million are not in any accounts? So this money was simply stolen? - exclaimed Louis.
- I do not claim this, Your Majesty. Most likely, Mr. Fouquet forgot to place the reporting documents in the business archive of the finance commissariat. I am inclined to think that this is simple forgetfulness, and I hope that the accounting documents will be immediately transferred to the records as soon as M. Fouquet is reminded of this unfortunate incident.
— Did you, Mister Colbert, ask Mister Fouquet for an answer to your question? – inquired the King.
“As a subordinate, Your Majesty, I do not dare ask M. Fouquet for any reports.”
“Let me remind you, Mr. Colbert, that in France there is only one subordination in relation to public finances, and that is subordination to me.” And if I instruct you to clarify this issue, then you are obliged to clarify it, even if you have to ask about this money not only Mr. Fouquet, but even if we were talking about questions for royal persons, including my mother the Queen. I'm not even talking about my brother or my wife, in comparison with whom Monsieur Fouquet is just a servant of the royal house.
“Thank you Your Majesty for the clarification,” Colbert replied softly.
“And if Fouquet does not give a detailed account of this money,” this time the King deliberately omitted the words “Mr.” before Fouquet’s name, “it means that he appropriated this money, simply stole it from France, stole it from me.”
- Unthinkable, Your Majesty! - Colbert exclaimed with ostentatious horror.
“If I weren’t visiting Fouquet,” the King got excited, “I would immediately order his arrest!”
- Your Majesty is at home everywhere while you are in France, and especially in those houses that were built and maintained with your money.
Louis XIV looked up at the expectant Colbert. “So one of them crushes the other and apparently wants to take his place. Will it be easier for me with him? - he thought.
“Mr. Colbert,” said the King, “it’s late, I’m tired and want to sleep.” In the morning you will learn about my decision. Order that the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan... However, he is already nearby, he does not need special instructions for this. Good night, Mr. Colbert.
“Good night, Your Majesty,” Colbert answered with a bow, and walking backwards, left the royal bedroom.
As soon as Colbert left the bedroom, footmen entered it to prepare the King for bed. This sight was extremely interesting for Philip, but completely uninteresting for the Bishop of Van.
“Look and remember, my Prince,” Aramis said to Philip. - Learn how to put you to bed, Your Majesty. Remember every little thing. In a day, this will be your ritual for the rest of your life.

IV. Lavaliere

The next day, Louis XIV was determined to arrest Fouquet immediately. “He considers me weak and incapable of this,” he said to himself, “so much the better!” I will show him who the true sovereign is in my state! I'll show this to everyone! And first of all, I will show it to her. Oh, she will appreciate my determination.” Need I say that the King had her in mind, La Valliere? Therefore, he deliberately loudly addressed Colbert in the presence of Louise.
“Monsieur, Colbert, in continuation of our conversation, warn the Chevalier d’Artagnan that I need to give him an order,” he said and smiled softly at Louise.
Contrary to his expectations, Mademoiselle Lavaliere was very worried by his words.
- Chevalier d'Artagnan! - she exclaimed. - Why warn the Chevalier d'Artagnan? I beg you, Your Majesty, why did you need this military leader in the middle of such a carefree holiday? It seems to me that he does not like such amusements.
- Why do you need the captain of my musketeers? Of course, to arrest whoever I want to imprison in the Bastille .
“You are talking about Monsieur Fouquet,” said Louise with a sinking heart.
- Why do you care? - the King asked sharply, feeling a surge of extreme jealousy.
- In his house? Is this really possible? - Louise asked timidly.
- This is possible wherever I consider it necessary, or at least desirable. The king is at home anywhere in France.
“Arrest M. Fouquet while visiting him,” Louise continued, as if she had not heard the King’s statement, which infuriated him even more, “the one who goes to ruin to honor his King?”
If Louise had remained indifferent to this decision, Fouquet could probably still have been saved, but without understanding what she was doing, Louise, with her intercession, confirmed the King in his decision, which, probably, could still have been shaken.
“It seems to me, mademoiselle, that this gentleman has found in you a zealous protector, and I would like to know the reasons for such strange intercession,” said the King, inflaming himself.
“Your Majesty, I am not defending M. Fouquet, but you.”
The king, who was already on the verge of rage, which he hid quite skillfully, became even more furious this time. Just recently, d'Artagnan gave him advice that the King did not ask him for, just yesterday Colbert assured him that he would contradict the King for the good and, caring for him, he remembered how often he had heard this argument from the Queen Mother, from Cardinal Mazarin, and in his answer to Louise he put all the hatred that accumulated in him drop by drop every time he heard that someone had the audacity to argue with him, with the King, to object to him, the King, to persuade or force him to do wrong, as he wants, but as it is needed by all those who disagree with him whom he met in his life. He expected resistance from anyone but Louise. “And she dares to push me around!” - he thought angrily. At that moment, those moments flashed before his eyes when he suspected Louise of self-interest, and he also remembered how vividly she denied any self-interest on her part in their relationship. After all, it was precisely this - the absence of any self-interest, the ability to see in him only a beloved man, while everyone else saw in him only a King, a ruler, that is, a source of many favors - this categorical difference between Louise and everyone else evoked such a warm response in him , which he so often called love, true, real, only. At that very moment, the King forever lost faith that someone could love him selflessly. Louise did not require special attention, she categorically refused gifts, would not accept any titles or benefits, she was disinterested in everything, but no, alas, it was only a guise, she claimed more, because she claimed that Louis would listen to her , not like a child obeys his mother, but like an endlessly in love man obeys his mistress, indulging her craziest whims, gradually becoming her slave, a puppet, a toy in her hands. So Charles the First obeyed Buckingham, his lover, just as his father, Louis XIII , obeyed the Chevalier de Luynes, and then Saint-Mars, then Cardinal Richelieu. This is almost exactly how his ancestor Francis the First obeyed Diane de Poitiers. But then Louis remembered his glorious grandfather, Henry IV , who had many mistresses, and could, for the sake of possessing them, give up a lot, but not his personal freedom to do as he saw fit. Almost with foam on his lips, no longer hiding his rage at all, he cried out:
-Are you protecting me?! From me?! So it is you who are protecting me, therefore, and not this traitor, traitor and thief?
“Your Majesty, you are angry now, which indicates that perhaps you are in too much of a hurry.” You will not, of course, give such an order, since it would damage your honor.
“I, of course, will give this order and will not lose my honor at all!” - said the king, turning pale with anger. “Mademoiselle, I was too supportive of you and your opinion, but this will not happen again.” I am offended by the passion with which you defend the interests of a state criminal.
“Listen, Your Majesty...” Louise said, but the King did not let her finish.
“This is unnecessary,” he objected coldly and looked at Colbert. - Are you here now?
“I’ll call the Chevalier d’Artagnan right now!” - Colbert replied and hastened to retreat.
“Sir,” said Louise, “I knew that someday the day would come when I would regret returning from the monastery at your insistence.” Now I see that I am superfluous here. Let me go back to where I was taken almost by force.
“Mademoiselle,” the King objected coldly, “you will stay where I deem it necessary, and retire to where I deem it necessary to remove you only when I want it.”
“Yes, my lord,” Lavaliere answered with a bow in a tone by which anyone would have guessed that from now on her heart no longer fully belonged to the King, and that the woman in love had given way to a respectful subject who decided to retire to a monastery at the first opportunity. .
At these words, Louise took out a handkerchief to wipe the corners of her eyes and hide her face from the King.
Louis saw that Mademoiselle Lavaliere dropped a small piece of paper folded in four.
As soon as Louise left, the King quickly bent down and picked up the letter. Approaching the lantern, he unfolded it and recognized Fouquet's handwriting. In this letter, M. Fouquet assured Mademoiselle Lavaliere of the most sincere and devoted friendship and promised any help.
“What noble words about the honor of the King,” exclaimed Louis, “and what a base background to all this!” If she had only wanted to make me her obedient and soft-hearted admirer, I might have forgiven this crime against the state. But to make a fool out of me, by acquiring a lover in the person of this old satyr, to prefer an old thief to a young sovereign! I will never forgive this. Beware, Mademoiselle Lavaliere! Your tears will be colored by your blood, because they, like my tears, will originate not in the eyes, but in the heart!

V. Jealousy

So, on this day the King firmly decided to arrest Fouquet. However, he thought that it was really not very good to arrest the owner of the house in which you were visiting, and although Colbert assured him that the King was at home anywhere in France, such an act would still be too unroyal, and the King I was still so young at that time that I would not have wanted to act unroyally.
For this reason, he decided only to warn d'Artagnan that he had to arrest Fouquet, so that he would be ready to do so at the slightest sign. As we know, Colbert was instructed to call the captain of the musketeers to the King.
As soon as the King saw d'Artagnan approaching him, he himself rushed towards him. Having made a sign to the sentry, which meant that no one should be allowed to see the King, he invited the musketeer into his chambers. D'Artagnan entered and stopped with a small but polite enough bow, waiting for the King himself to address him.
- Captain, how many people do you have now? - said the King in a casual tone.
“There are currently twenty musketeers on duty, Your Majesty.” Also thirteen Swiss. This is sufficient to protect Your Majesty in the present circumstances, but if circumstances change, their number will be adjusted accordingly.
- This is not enough. How many people can you offer me by the end of this day? - asked the King impatiently.
- For what purpose, Your Majesty?
— How many people do you need to arrest M. Fouquet?
D'Artagnan barely hid his surprise, but answered completely dispassionately.
“In order to arrest M. Fouquet, I only need a carriage and your written order, Your Majesty,” he answered completely dispassionately.
- And, of course, your sword? - The King grinned.
“My sword is an integral part of me, but I will not need it, or rather, it must be on me when I am in the service of Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan with dignity, but without insolence.
- Why are you asking for a written order, Mr. Captain? - said the King, barely restraining his anger. - Since when did my verbal orders cease to be valid?
“By your verbal order, I will arrest even the whole of Paris, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan. “But in order to arrest the superintendent of finance, I would like a written order.”
- In that case, you will get it! - exclaimed the King. - But just this. Not immediately the moment you receive it from Mr. Colbert...
“From Monsieur Colbert...” answered d’Artagnan, as if trying to remember this surname, as if he had heard it for the first time in his life.
— Is there something that doesn’t suit you, Mister Captain?
“I’m just repeating it so I can remember better.”
- So, not at the very moment you receive it from M. Colbert, you will carry out this order. Just keep it with you and be ready to perform it at my sign. This sign will be my phrase. I will say: “The holiday was a great success.” If you hear these words, it will mean that you must immediately arrest M. Fouquet, but not in front of my eyes, but only immediately after I say goodbye to him. If I don’t say such words today...
“Then I will have to return this order to you, Your Majesty?” - D'Artagnan suggested.
“Then you will have to expect these words not today, but tomorrow.” - objected the King.
“Does this mean that I must attend all of Your Majesty’s audiences?” – asked d'Artagnan. “I am afraid of being absent at the moment when Your Majesty utters this phrase.”
- Do not worry about it. When I say it, you will be there.
— Thank Your Majesty for the clarification.
- You can go, Monsieur d'Artagnan. Your order will be brought to you soon.
- Yes, Your Majesty. I remember Mister Colbert will give it to me.
- Go. And call Mister Colbert to me.
D'Artagnan bowed, clicked his heels and sharply, military-style, turned on his heel and left the King's reception chamber.
Left alone, the King said to himself: “That’s it. It will be like royalty. The blows that hurt the most are the ones you don't expect. As they do to me, so will I do to them.”
Our Gascon thought almost the same thing. He muttered to himself: “What a royal act! Arrest the one who went bankrupt for the sake of hospitality, but surpassed in this everyone who had ever received the King of France before, and is ready to bet forty pistoles that in the future no one will provide such hospitality to any King of France! Only Mazarin could have arranged such a reception, but Mazarin would never have spent even a hundredth of that amount of money to receive the King!” - With these words, d'Artagnan began to twirl his right mustache so furiously, as if he wanted to tear it out.

VI. Cunning

Meanwhile, Aramis was in a hurry to find M. Fouquet.
- Good afternoon, Mister Bishop! - Fouquet exclaimed when meeting Aramis. - I hope you're having a good time?
- I will spend it extremely usefully, Mr. Fouquet.
— Commendable, but a little insulting for the hospitable host. I would prefer that you give up useful activities and indulge in idleness for at least a few hours, Monsieur d'Herblay.
- More on that later. By the way, about hospitality, Mr. Fouquet, it leaves much to be desired.
- How? Are you really dissatisfied with something? I will fire the cook, I will drive away the servants, I will punish anyone guilty of your discontent, Mister Bishop!
“This dissatisfaction does not stem from me, Monsieur Fouquet, and your servants and cooks have nothing to do with it.”
- Who is dissatisfied, Monsieur d'Herblay, and with what exactly?
“Don’t you think, Monsieur Fouquet, that the King of France is at home anywhere in France?”
- It's hard to argue with that.
“However, I have reason to say that the King, who thinks this way, still feels some resentment from the fact that his servants live in greater luxury than he could afford in his wildest dreams.”
- My God! - exclaimed Fouquet. - I'm a donkey! In an effort to please the King, I did not think about the fact that I might make him jealous!
- That's right, Mister Fouquet!
- In that case, what should I do?
- Immediately donate your castle of Vaud with all its lands and all its property to the King.
- But this is all I have left! Where will I live, Monsieur d'Herblay?
- Anywhere but here.
- You are killing me! I believed that this castle would be mine for the rest of my days and furnished it to my liking!
“If you don’t do what I tell you today, Mister Fouquet, then for the rest of your days your home will be one of the cells in the Bastille, and this is far from the worst option, believe me.”
- Is it really that serious?
“Last night, Colbert reported to the King about that ill-fated sum of thirteen million, which you will not be able to account for to the King. Add to this jealousy for your luxury.
“I will ask Mademoiselle de La Valli;re to intercede for me.”
“If your stay in the Bastille does not suit you so much that you prefer the scaffold, then contact this mademoiselle, Mr. Fouquet.”
- You scare me, Monsieur d'Herblay!
“I’m saving you, and not for the first time, Mister Fouquet.”
- But where should I go with my family and my servants?
- Think only about today, Mr. Fouquet. Perhaps tomorrow the King will return your house to you, and in addition will reward you with some round sum, or, what is much better, will return to you the position of attorney general, which you so imprudently sold.
- Today I am threatened with the scaffold, and tomorrow the King will return my property and my position to me? You speak in riddles, Monsieur d'Herblay!
- So be it. Today, I tell you, hasten to implement my advice as quickly as possible. Perhaps it's too late. Hurry to the King! And immediately, can you hear me, this very minute give this castle to the King. Make it as natural as possible.
“I don’t understand anything, but I believe you, Monsieur d’Herblay.”
With these words, Fouquet went to the King.

VII. Last evening with the King

Approaching the King's bedchamber, Fouquet asked the valet to report to His Majesty about his arrival. It would be more correct to use the word commanded, since this amazing man managed to command everyone who was next to him due to extraordinary magnetism, and, of course, not without the influence of the conviction of everyone who surrounded him, both in his countless wealth and in his unlimited a power second perhaps only to the power of the King, and even then only recently. Nevertheless, the valet, with a slight movement of his eyebrows, indicated the question of the purpose of the visit, to which Fouquet, who was expecting this, softly said, as if continuing the speech he had begun:
“As a hospitable host, I would like to wish His Majesty good night and inquire if His Majesty may need anything before going to bed or tomorrow morning.”
The valet retired to report, after which he came out and bowed to Monsieur Fouquet, indicating that he could enter.
The king was already sitting in bed. His face expressed utmost cordiality.
- So, Mr. Fouquet, a day was not enough for you to communicate with me? - said the King with an intonation that could be considered both friendly and ironic.
“I just remembered that I did not have time to express one of my requests to Your Majesty.” - Fouquet answered with a bow.
- Is that so? - Louis was surprised. — Requests to the King on the eve of sleep? Are you planning to ruin my sleep, Monsieur Fouquet? After all, this cannot be an insignificant request, therefore, either it will be difficult for me to fulfill it, or I will have to refuse you, which will also be difficult! So, you intend to deprive me of sleep!
- My request is indeed very bold, Your Majesty, I would...
- Also daring! Have you absolutely gone mad, Monsieur Fouquet? - the King interrupted him.
“I dared to beg Your Majesty to accept my castle of Vaud as a gift, and if you grant my request, from this very moment you are at home, and I am your guest,” Fouquet hastened to finish.
Probably, if at that moment Saint Elijah had descended from heaven in order to fill the King’s washstand, then even in this case he would have been less surprised. For about a minute the King simply looked at Fouquet silently, after which he laughed cheerfully.
“Did you really believe, Mr. Fouquet, that if you didn’t manage to persuade me to accept your unusual gift today before I fell asleep, then you wouldn’t have a chance to talk to me about it tomorrow?”
“Dare I interpret your smile as agreement?” - Fouquet inquired with a bow.
“However, this is indeed a very strange request,” said the King. —Is it proper for a King to take gifts from his subjects? Also so unusual?
“I will be in despair if you refuse,” Fouquet said with difficulty, thinking completely the opposite.
“Today I will not give you a definite answer, Mister Fouquet. You still ruined my night, because instead of sleeping, I will apparently be thinking about this matter. Tell the valet to bring me sleeping pills, otherwise I really won't sleep well.
“Please forgive my insolence, Your Majesty,” Fouquet said even more quietly and left with a courteous bow of exactly the depth that corresponded to his high position at court.
The king, left alone, did not know what to think about this last event. There was no longer any need to hide his delight at the prospect of owning the magnificent castle of Vaud, but the King was alarmed by both the timing of this gift and the manner in which it was done. He felt that there was something unusual in this, but he could not yet understand what exactly. At first, he really wanted to take sleeping pills and put off all thoughts until the next day, however, he changed his mind. Leaving the sleeping pills brought by the valet and placed on the bedside table unnoticed, the King closed his eyes and plunged into dreams, not too much overshadowed by the questions that arose. Even on the day when he first knew Mademoiselle de La Valli;re and his heart was kindled with a hitherto unknown love, it did not evoke in him even a tenth of the delight with which he was filled now.

VIII. Bishop and financier

Leaving the King, Fouquet immediately went to Aramis.
“Well, Monsieur d’Herblay, I obeyed you blindly, but I don’t know what will come of it,” he told Aramis with a sigh.
— Did the king accept your gift? – Aramis inquired dryly.
“He neither refused nor agreed. His answer will be given tomorrow, but for now I am guilty of ruining the King's sleep.
- Is that so? – Aramis quickly inquired. – The king won’t go to bed? Will it work? Think? Write orders? You, I hope, waited at the door and did not bribe the valet to find out who the King called to him? Is this Colbert?
- None of what you are talking about, dear bishop. The king only ordered the valet to bring sleeping pills to help him fall asleep, since my gift made it impossible for him to sleep without the help of this medicine.
- The king will sleep after taking sleeping pills! - Aramis exclaimed. - This is a sign of fate!
-What are you talking about, bishop? – Fouquet was surprised. “Fate is not how the King will sleep, with or without sleeping pills, but that from tomorrow I will either be a beggar, or the King will humiliate me with his refusal to accept my gift.” And I still don’t know what’s worse for me!
- Fate is that you will spend tonight in your own bed, and not in a prison one, and this is already quite a big gift of fate. And it is also that the King will sleep soundly, which is no less important, dear Mr. Fouquet.
“What I cannot promise you about my dream, Mister Bishop.”
- This is no longer so important, Mr. Fouquet, believe me. Spend this night as you please. You can visit one of those ladies who so effectively help you reduce it, I absolve you of this sin in advance as a bishop,” Aramis grinned.
— The priest blesses me for breaking one of the Ten Commandments? – Fouquet was surprised.
- Exactly! Go, my son, and sin,” with these words Aramis crossed Mr. Fouquet and extended his hand to kiss.
Without a shadow of a doubt, Fouquet pressed his lips to the bishop's hand and hurried away to carry out his order.

IX. lese majeste

The king did not indulge in dreams for long about how he would dispose of the gift he had been given. In this luxurious Vaud castle you can spend more time, have fun and enjoy life. Thoughts of a pleasant pastime and pleasure naturally led him to Lavaliere, and then a sharp mental pain pierced his heart, as he realized that Lavaliere was finished. This new and sweet feeling of the need to break with what was so dear to him, a hitherto unknown feeling of hatred directed at his former love, made his heart beat so hard that it seemed to him that its beating could be heard throughout the castle .
Involuntarily, the King remembered that he intended to arrest Fouquet, and in this case, the property of the arrested person was disposed of by the Supreme Court, which meant that all the property of the state criminal would have already passed into the hands of the King in payment of the damage caused to the royal treasury in the amount of thirteen million.
At that moment the King realized that he had been tricked. What he would have received the next day as a result of the execution of the already signed order for the arrest of Fouquet, he received without this order. But now, if he had not arrested Fouquet, his offense would have remained unavenged - the King’s anger at the traitor and hypocrite, as well as just anger at the culprit of this treason. If the best punishment for La Valli;re would have been to banish her to a monastery, then Fouquet had to be arrested, and if not executed, then, in any case, his life in prison had to be made unbearable. Now, if he accepted the gift, Fouquet's arrest would look like black ingratitude.
“But I signed the arrest order before this gift was offered to me!” - exclaimed the King.
He had almost calmed down, but an extremely unpleasant thought came to his mind:
- It turns out that I am accepting a gift from a criminal? First I will refuse his request, inform him that I do not intend to accept his gift, then I will give a sign to d'Artagnan to arrest Fouquet, after which the supreme court will sort out his crimes, and then this castle will go to the treasury.
The king calmed down and reached out with his hand for the sleeping pill, but suddenly another thought occurred to him:
- Is this fair?
Louis thought about the meaning of this strange word.
“Everything that I consider to be fair is fair,” he finally concluded. In addition, Our Majesty is at home anywhere in France.
After this, Louis cast a contemptuous glance at the sleeping pills and, without the help of this medicine, fell into a calm and deep sleep, although not as deep as Aramis might have thought, who had pinned additional hopes on the sleeping pills, which, it would seem, Fate herself had made a sign of heaven for his daring plan.
The king dreamed of walking in the delightful park of his new castle, given to him by Mr. Fouquet. The smell of blooming chestnut trees set me up for frivolous thoughts. Suddenly he felt the familiar and unique scent of roses. It was she - Mademoiselle de La Valli;re. The acute feeling of loss only stung his heart for a moment, after which calm and peace came. She is still with him, she is close and lives only for him, everything else is not important. Louis looked at her face, neck and bare shoulders. Louise bowed obediently, he wanted to keep her from bowing and extended his hands to her, but Louise understood his gesture in her own way and pressed her lips to his hand. Suddenly the ground around began to tremble and Louis felt that he was sinking somewhere down. The park disappeared, Louise disappeared, overhead in the dim light, the image of the Greek god of sleep Morpheus appeared overhead, surrounded by maidens embodying the beautiful dreams of sleep. They all looked tenderly and calmly into the King’s face, but for some reason they began to smoothly go somewhere upward. Louis felt himself sinking lower and lower, while Morpheus and his maids rose higher and higher.
Not quite understanding whether he was still sleeping or had already woken up, Louis tried to peer into the darkness surrounding him.
He saw a painfully familiar face - it was his own face, which was looking at him with the greatest attention. Louis realized that he was still sleeping, because this face was his own reflection in the mirror, but it did not repeat his actions, that is, it did not behave as it should.
- Holy Virgin, how similar we are! - this face exclaimed. “But it seems he’s not sleeping!”
“He’s under the influence of sleeping pills, no doubt about it.” However, this doesn’t matter anymore, if he doesn’t sleep, it’s worse for him. Let me take a look.
At these words, a masked face appeared before Louis’s frightened gaze , apparently belonging to a thin nobleman, possibly a priest. Louis wanted to be indignant, but at that moment he felt that a rubber bulb was being shoved into his mouth, smelling disgustingly of anise. This pear filled his entire mouth, did not allow him to make a single sound, he could only moan quietly in anger. His Majesty was incredibly insulted, and this insult could only be washed away with the blood of all those who were involved in it.
“I’m having a nightmare! - thought Louis. “Thank God it’s just a dream.” But it’s time to wake up!”
But the nightmare did not stop. Louis's hands and legs were already tightly tied, and this was done with extreme dexterity.
“These are Fouquet's people! - the King thought in horror. “If he has dared to do such audacity, he will stop at nothing.” He is probably also capable of encroaching on my very life! Madman! After all, this will not give him anything. If the King disappears, there will be unrest, after which, of course, the Duke of Orleans will become king. This younger brother had already participated many times in all sorts of conspiracies, but never such conspiracies had ever encroached on freedom, much less the life of the King. But is it?"
Louis broke out in a cold sweat. What if the Duke of Orleans was planning a coup d';tat? Unthinkable! And would he really rely on Fouquet in such a matter, would he trust Fouquet’s people with such a matter? After all, Fouquet is currently much more influential than the Duke!
At that moment, a giant masked man stepped out of the darkness.
“You are doing the right thing by remaining silent, my dear,” the giant said in a deep voice, scooping up Louis in his arms and carrying him somewhere.
Louis realized that he had no choice but to resign himself and surrender to the mercy of the conspirators. He reasoned that since he was not killed immediately, then his life was most likely not in danger. Consequently, some conditions will be presented to him. “I will accept any conditions, and when I return home, they will all be in trouble!” - the King decided, after which he calmed down and decided to control himself and wait for how all this would end.
From that moment on, the King was no longer afraid of violence. He understood that these people had gone so far in their actions that now they would no longer be able to retreat from their plans. Physically and numerically they were far superior to him. For the first time, the king felt that he could only rely on himself, and realized how little this was. The King's own powers were merely those of a man, not those of a divinely anointed one. All royalty relies only on an obedient environment, but if this environment ceases to be obedient, then royalty turns into buffoonery. In the face of brute physical force, he could only show equanimity and calm, they resembled the serenity of a person confident not only in his rightness, but also in God's intercession, which allowed him to demonstrate confidence in the favorable outcome of this unexpected situation.
“I may have fallen into the hands of murderers, and if this is not so, then they are suicides!” - Louis decided.
The giant lowered the King onto some kind of couch and returned to where he had carried Louis out from.
“Apparently they will take me somewhere, which means they are not going to kill me,” thought the King. He had almost completely calmed down, but something happened that he could not have expected.
Somewhere behind him, he heard words that were clearly not addressed to him, and it was unthinkable, strange and scary, since these words, uttered by an apparently skinny nobleman, could not be addressed to anyone other than the King, but they were not addressed to the King, and this was all their horror. The bishop said:
“Get into bed quickly, Your Majesty, we will return her to your bedroom.” From this moment you are the King, don’t forget it. Vivat the King!
“If they have another king, my life is in extreme danger!”
He remembered a face so similar to his own and cold horror seized his entire being. God created a double! The Lord allowed this terrible violence, and his goal is to replace the King with his double. Louis has no chance of returning to the throne, he is doomed.
“How shaky and unreliable life is! – Louis realized with grief. “Fate cannot protect even the King from banal robbers!”
The thin man bowed before Louis.
“If you promise to obey us, we will untie you.” “We will go into the carriage and go to your new residence,” Aramis said, after which he released Louis from the gag.
“What are you going to do with the King of France?” - Louis said arrogantly.
“Try to forget this word forever,” answered the thin man.
“For such words you are subject to the wheel,” added the giant, “but we will not extradite you, besides, our good King is too merciful, knowing about your mental illness.” You will simply be returned to where you fled from.
Louis thought that everything that was happening to him was so far from reality that perhaps it really was some kind of nightmare. But since even in this nightmare the giant's hand squeezed him so tightly that it could easily crush the King's hand, he decided not to resist this dream, or delirium, or whatever it was.
-Where are we going finally? - asked the King.
- We'll go. “You’ll only have to walk as far as the carriage,” answered the thin nobleman.
At the exit, indeed, a carriage was waiting for them. The horses' hooves were covered with felt like tuchi, the wheels of the carriage were tightly wrapped with a thick cord, which made their movement along the pavement silent. The carriage doors did not make a single sound when they were opened. Everything that was happening was so devoid of any sounds that Louis finally believed that this was just a dream and calmed down.
“Come in and settle down,” said the thin nobleman.
The king obeyed and intended to sit by the window, but when he saw that all the windows of the carriage were tightly closed with plugs upholstered in black velvet, he sat down in the back of the carriage. Suddenly a daring thought occurred to him. While one of the kidnappers walked around the carriage to sit on the opposite side, Louis decided to escape, he tried to jump out of this door and make a noise. However, a deft, thin nobleman got ahead of him and gently directed him back to the carriage. Out of surprise, Louis lost his balance, grabbed the door hinge and scratched his little finger until it bled.
- What are you doing, scoundrel! – he was indignant. - Look what you've done! The blood of the King of France is now on you! You will be executed!
The giant sitting on the right placed his heavy palm on Louis’s shoulder with the words:
- Calm down, buddy! You are simply not yourself. But you won’t be executed for such insolence, rest assured! I told you that our King is very kind!
Aramis took a silk scarf from his pocket, tore off a corner with a personalized monogram and handed it to Louis.
- Take a scarf and wrap it around your finger. In less than ten minutes the bleeding will stop.
- I will have a scar, you scoundrel! – Louis was indignant.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Aramis answered indifferently.
After the attackers settled down on both sides of Louis, the carriage doors were closed and bolted from the inside, and the carriage silently set off.
In Senarskoe, the attackers changed the carriage and horses, but Louis could not see coats of arms or other distinctive features on the carriage. The windows of this carriage were barred and drawn with impenetrable curtains. The road to Paris was long, so the King was offered breakfast on the way. Louis had never before eaten on the go, and he found the experience curious. The breakfast was plentiful and delicious, the thin nobleman ate only a few grapes, while the giant destroyed an entire basket of food and looked with interest at the second smaller basket prepared for the thin nobleman.
When the carriage arrived at the gates of the Bastille, the coachman shouted to the sentry: “The king’s orders.” The gates opened, the duty sergeant looked at the document presented by Aramis, waved approvingly and stood at attention in front of the carriage. Aramis made a sign to Porthos, whom our readers undoubtedly recognized. The giant exclaimed in his thunderous voice:
- Wake up the commandant.
Without waiting for his order to be carried out, he quickly ran to the door of Monsieur de Bezmeaux’s residence and began pounding on it with his iron fist with such force that one could guarantee that this door would not withstand such mockery for long.
Ten minutes later, a sleepy Mr. de Bezmeaux appeared on the threshold in shoes and a dressing gown, demonstrating with his angry appearance that now it would be bad for the one who allowed these troublemakers into the Bastille and for the offenders themselves. However, having assessed the size of Porthos, Bezmo became clearly calmer and more accommodating, and in a completely restrained voice he nevertheless asked:
- What's the matter, what do you need? - he asked, - who else did you bring?
Aramis, whom our readers, of course, also recognized, got out of the carriage and approached the commandant.
- Monsieur d'Her...! - cried Bezmo.
“Not a word,” Aramis stopped him, covering the talkative commandant’s mouth with his hand. “Let’s come to you, Monsieur de Bezmeaux.” After a minute.
After this, Aramis took Porthos by the arm, led him to the carriage and said loudly enough so that Louis, in addition to Porthos, could hear him, but not so loudly that Bezmo could hear:
“Any attempt to say, do or make any other sign, or to escape, you must shoot this prisoner,” he said to Porthos, pointing his hand at the loaded musket.
“I’ll strangle him,” Porthos replied calmly, to which Aramis responded with a nod.
Louis already appreciated Porthos’ strength enough to have no doubt that he could do this quickly and successfully.
Wrapped in his robe, de Bezmo led Aramis inside his home.
- My God! What's happened! What brought you to this hour?
“A terrible, deadly mistake, dear Monsieur de Bezmeaux, which could cost you your life, and me, several gray hairs,” Aramis calmly answered. - Apparently, you were right.
- I do not understand anything! What was I right about?
- In connection with this order to release your prisoner. We mixed up the prisoners.
— Have you mixed up the prisoners, monsignor? - the commandant stammered, gasping with horror and amazement. “Are you saying that we freed a criminal and left in the Bastille someone who should have been freed?”
“It’s not we, but you who mixed up the prisoners, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, but I will help you.” I'll save you.
- I got confused, oh my God! But you said that I was right?
- You were right, but this does not justify you, since your duty was to personally verify the correctness of your actions, and their exact compliance with the text of the order. You, of course, remember that you were sent an order to release the prisoner.
- Yes, of course, an order to release Marchiali.
“You and I mistakenly decided that this order meant Marchiali.” This is forgivable to me, because I was working hard to get him released. However, my troubles led to the appearance of a completely different order, and who are we to talk about the reasons for the decisions that are made by the King, right? My job was to deliver the order to you, and yours was to carry it out.
- Certainly! I did it!
“ To perform as accurately as possible, I tell you, and for this you should, of course, read it with all care,” Arami continued.
“But you didn’t let me do this, Monsieur d’Er...” here Bezmo covered his mouth, which caused Aramis to grin condescendingly.
“How could I not let you read the order that you were supposed to carry out?” Is this a conceivable thing, Monsieur de Bezmeaux?
- Don't you remember? After all, I had doubts, and did not even want to let him go until I had read the text of the order in detail, and it was you who forced me to carry out this order without reading it, saying that you yourself had already read it, and that was quite enough.
- What an inappropriate word you used, dear Mr. Bezmo, just think - “forced”! What nonsense. I just suggested not to waste time copying the order into a journal, which could easily have been done after the prisoner was released, but I suggested not to read the King’s order! How could you think that such a thing could have occurred to me? Don't read the King's order! This is too much, Monsieur de Bezmeaux. For whom are they written, these orders, if no one will read them? So you don't have time to read the order written by the King and addressed directly to you? Do you know what it's called? Riot! What do they do with rebels?
- Riot? - Bezmo stammered. - Just our carelessness.
- Yours, my dear Bezmo, it was your mistake. But don't worry, I'm your friend and I won't hurt you. This error, fortunately, has been discovered, and it is not too late to correct it. The prisoner released by mistake had not yet managed to go anywhere; all this time he was celebrating his release in the nearest tavern, where my people discovered him. Unfortunately, the air of freedom played a cruel joke on him: he completely went crazy, imagined himself, however, let’s not say who he thought he was. It's better for your own safety. I will say more: any conversations with this prisoner can turn into big, I would say fatal, troubles for you or for the one who will support them. The head of such a fool may be separated from his body forever.
- My God, my God! - Bezmo stammered.
“So, we have discovered and are returning to you a mistakenly released prisoner, who from this moment must be back in his cell and kept in the same conditions, which, however, were supplemented by a strict ban on any communication with him by anyone, including you.” , dear Monsieur de Bezmeaux. And poor Seldon, who, as a result of your mistake,” Aramis emphasized the word “your,” “you must release as soon as possible, because he already spent several extra days in the Bastille through your fault.
- Free Seldon? But this time, are you really sure? Has the error been ruled out? – asked Bezmo.
- Damn it! I tell you, as last time, as now, your duty is to carefully read the order. Read for yourself, because it’s your responsibility,” Aramis replied, conveying the order to Bezmo.
- But this is the same order that I already saw, I held it in my hands and read it.
- Really? There was probably a defect in the candles. Add candelabra to your home, Mr. Bezmo.
- This is the same order! That's the same ink stain!
“To hell with the stains, I don’t want to know anything about any stains, your duty is to carry out this order as precisely as possible, but since it was not Seldon you freed, I must conclude that the order was not executed.” And since you have freed the other, your mistake consists of two illegal acts that must be corrected immediately.
- What about Marchiali? Where can I get it?
“I brought it and now I’ll give it to you.” You will place it where it should have been all along.
“ But in order to arrest him, I need an arrest warrant.”
“It seems you haven’t woken up yet, dear Bezmo.” The order is needed to arrest someone who was lawfully at large. And for the return to his rightful place in the Bastille of someone who should have been there and was released by mistake, no order is required. However, you are right. If you want the King to sign a new order for the arrest of Marchiali, I will immediately go to the King, tell him how you released him by mistake, after which His Majesty will sign three orders.
- Three orders? - Bezmo muttered.
- Of course. The first is about the arrest of Marchiali. The second is about the appointment of a new commandant of the Bastille.
— About the appointment of a new commandant? - Bezmo muttered, feeling the ground disappearing from under his feet.
- Of course, because the King will not like the fact that the commandant of the Bastille is a person who does not carry out the Royal orders, or worse, he releases the wrong prisoner, but leaves the one who needed to be released in the Bastille.
- And what about me? – Bezmo whispered in horror.
- A third order will be signed regarding your fate. You will be incredibly lucky if you are just imprisoned in this same Bastille, but in a new capacity, as a prisoner. Most likely there will be execution.
“I’m dead,” Bezmo whispered.
-Only if you insist on a new order.
- I insist? I don't insist on anything! - cried Bezmo.
- Listen to me, you sleepy aunt. You released the wrong person by mistake. You simply return the one who was released by mistake to his original place, and release the one who should have been released! You and I both forget about this annoying nuisance, and your life will continue to flow in the same way as it has flowed until now, that is, serenely, calmly and joyfully. You remain the commandant of the Bastille, and what is also important, you keep your head on your shoulders.
“This is all so strange,” Bezmo muttered.
Aramis took off the glove from his hand and, as if inadvertently, showed Bezmo the ring, which the commandant had completely forgotten about. As soon as he looked at the ring, Bezmo bowed low before Aramis and said in a firm voice:
“I am infinitely grateful to fate for that guidance, lord, without which my dark mind would not have gotten out of this trouble.” I am at your service and I will carry out your orders exactly.
- Orders? My God, Monsieur de Bezmeaux! I'm just helping you unravel the trouble that arose as a result of annoying inattention. I return your Marchiali to you, from now on we all believe that he never left the Bastille. And it will never come out again.
- Still would! - Bezmo said decisively, convinced that this same Marchiali was the sole and direct culprit of all his troubles.
“And you will give me this poor Scot, it seems, Seldon, who is being released by this order.” Thus, your reporting, your conscience and your future fate will all be in perfect order. Do you understand?
- I... I...
“You understand me,” Aramis interrupted Bezmo. - That is great.
Bezmo bowed.
“For your safety, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, I will tell you something else.”
And Aramis leaned towards Bezmo's ear.
“You are aware, of course, of this prisoner’s extraordinary resemblance to the one whose orders you were to carry out as precisely as possible?”
- Similarity to the King, yes!
- Shh... So this Marchiali really imagined himself as the King of France.
- What a scoundrel! - Bezmo exclaimed.
- Crazy, or pretending to be so, what's the difference? If not for such a similarity, he would only cause laughter from those around him, but this special circumstance makes him a most dangerous state criminal.
- My God!
— The King’s mercy is limitless! Instead of executing the rebel, he ordered only to keep him locked up and deprive him of the opportunity to embarrass anyone. That's why I brought him to you, dear commandant. He is mad, and he is in a hurry to share his delirium with everyone.
“I’ll lock him up so tightly that he’ll only be able to confuse the spiders in his cell!” – Bezmo was indignant.
“This is exactly what the King wants from you.”
After these negotiations, Aramis handed over the King, on whom he had put a mask on while still in the carriage, to the guards, who placed him in the cell occupied by the unfortunate Philip before him.
Seeing a handkerchief with blood stains on Louis's left hand, de Bezmeaux asked:
- He seems to be wounded?
“It’s nothing,” Aramis answered indifferently. — Light scratch, scratched my little finger with resistance.
- So he still resisted? - De Bezmo was surprised.
“I told you that he’s not himself,” Aramis explained.
- Completely out of your mind, poor fellow! - Porthos confirmed.
Seldon, who did not understand anything, was woken up, given a knapsack with his things confiscated during the arrest, and put outside the gates of the Bastille.
The carriage freed from the prisoner took Aramis and Porthos back to that castle, which from now on forever stained itself with an insult to His Majesty. Porthos, believing that he had carried out the King's orders to arrest the dangerous conspirator, plunged into dreams of new favors, which soon became embodied in his sweet dreams, accompanied by deafening snoring. Let's leave him and let him sleep, since the night was sleepless. As for Aramis, he was completely immersed in new thoughts, as if he had never had a sleepless night.

X. Twice Gascon

Having parted with Porthos, d'Artagnan again returned to reasoning.
“So,” the Gascon said to himself, “Aramis planned to kidnap the King and replace him with his twin brother, whom he most likely brought from some secret place. Bah! We met him not so long ago in the Bastille, and I still don’t know what brought him there, for what purpose Aramis suddenly needed to make friends with the commandant of the Bastille, Monsieur de Bezmo. Now I know. And although I was obliged to communicate very often with de Bezmeaux, who, apparently, should have considerable respect for me, his respect for Aramis is clearly much higher, from which it follows that Aramis took some actions for these purposes. Most likely, he helped de Bezmo to take this position. But Aramis does nothing in vain. One knot has tied up. The King's twin was in the Bastille, Aramis knew about this, he appointed his man as commandant of the Bastille in advance, therefore, he had been hatching these plans for a long time. Aramis helps Fouquet build a fortress in Belle-Isle, actually fulfilling the position of chief architect, and for appearances substituting the unsuspecting Porthos for this position. Aramis is also preparing the holiday in Vaud, and plans the accommodation of all the guests, including the King. Aramis purchases samples of fabrics, from which new costumes for the King are prepared especially for the festival. Consequently, the King's double will be dressed in advance in one of the same exact costumes, ready to be kidnapped at any moment. But will the King appear at the holiday without his traditional and, possibly, new decorations? Is Aramis really preparing to prepare all possible sets of diamond, pearl, emerald and other jewelry that the King may decide to wear on himself? Unthinkable! Rip them off the captive King and put them on the impostor? Well, it’s possible, but in this case, you can take the clothes off the prisoner and use them. Therefore, the kidnapping must be carried out so quickly that there is time to take the diamonds, but not time to change clothes. What is Aramis' plan? Get close to the King for some two or three minutes, and then take him away tied up, without screams, noise of struggle, and replace him with a double who was hiding somewhere nearby, but remained unnoticed? Quite possible, if not for one small obstacle. And this obstacle is quite serious, and Aramis knows about it. This obstacle is called by the captain of the royal musketeers, Monsieur d'Artagnan. Not even Aramis can do such a thing under my nose! So, my thoughts were going in the wrong direction. There will be no substitution during the day, I will not allow this. What then? Why does Aramis arrange his chambers exactly under the King’s chambers? Aramis, who designed the structure of the Belle-Ile fortress, and who actually supervised its construction, could well have designed some of the wings of the castle of Vaux, if not the entire castle. Therefore, the room under the king's chambers is not just a room located below. This, therefore, is an opportunity to secretly enter the King’s chambers, an opportunity to kidnap him at night, without witnesses, and replace him with a double. I'm an ass for not thinking of this sooner! Stop! But why then do Aramis need these suits if he is going to steal the King from bed, because the King does not sleep in his suits! Whoever takes his bed, his bedroom, his throne will easily take his suits as well. It looks like Aramis threw these rags around me just to distract my attention! He has misled my thoughts, and while I am thinking here, the King has probably already been kidnapped!
With these words, d'Artagnan jumped up and rushed to the King's chambers. But as soon as he reached the door, he thought, what would he say to the King if he was sleeping peacefully in his bed?
"Damn it! - he exclaimed. - No matter what I do, I will look like a fool, I will not prove anything and I will only ruin everything. Even if Aramis has already kidnapped the King, he will not kill him. Therefore, even after 24 hours nothing will be lost. Well, let's take a closer look at the situation and draw conclusions. Only complete knowledge of everything that is happening will allow you to act quickly, decisively and effectively. In addition, we need to think about how such actions would not drive poor Aramis into a situation from which there would be no way out. Not to mention poor Porthos, whom Aramis is simply manipulating. And, by the way, the King who ordered me to arrest M. Fouquet after he uttered the words “The holiday was a great success” is the true King of France, and not his double, whom Aramis found, there can be no doubt about that! If Aramis is going to replace the King with a double, it is precisely so that the new King under no circumstances gives such an order! I have no doubt about this either. So, if the new King suddenly, out of the blue, becomes a friend of Aramis, if this supposed King forgets about the words “The holiday was a great success,” then this King is a fake. The true King of France will in no case forget these words, he will pronounce them, after which I will be forced to arrest M. Fouquet, but the bitterness of fulfilling this order, unpleasant for me, will be brightened by the knowledge that our good or not so kind King remains in his place, and, therefore, the captain of the royal musketeers does not eat his bread in vain.”
And d'Artagnan went to bed as calmly as if he had suspected nothing of Aramis's plans.
At the very time when the unfortunate Louis was raging in the solitary cell of the Bastille, in which his even more unfortunate brother Philippe had lived almost his entire adult life before him, when Aramis could not sleep from a powerful stream of thoughts and fears that robbed him of not only sleep, but also peace, when Philip tried to get used to the new role of the King of France, when Mademoiselle Louise de La Valli;re watered her pillow with pure tears of despair, when the Viscount de Bragelonne begged the Lord to send him a heroic death, d'Artagnan fell asleep in the serene sleep of a baby, a sleep almost the same as in how good Porthos plunged, with the only difference that Porthos believed that from tomorrow morning his life would be filled with even greater glory and success, which filled his soul with peace and joy, while d'Artagnan knew for sure that he would have to forget about peace for a long time , and perhaps forever.


XI. Mister Fouquet

The next morning, d'Artagnan woke up fresh and cheerful, as always, and began his daily duties. Whoever the person who will be regarded as His Majesty today turns out to be, the duties of the captain of the Royal Musketeers towards that person remain the same. But if d'Artagnan reveals the substitution, well, he knows what his duties will be in this case.
The absence of instructions to carry out the order given the day before for the arrest of the good Monsieur Fouquet will have to reveal the truth about the impostor completely, or the requirement to carry out this order will indicate to d'Artagnan that he has developed too much suspiciousness and suspiciousness.
Poor Fouquet must become a touchstone, not suspecting that the fate of all France depends on his fate.
D'Artagnan touched the order of arrest hidden under his uniform with his hand.
“I wonder if Aramis taught the impostor the King’s handwriting? - thought d'Artagnan. “He probably learned this handwriting himself, and this will be another guarantee for him for the future, until the impostor learns it.” Poor Fouquet! If the King orders an arrest, he will be in trouble. If the King does not give such an order, then it will be bad luck for this pseudo-king, and after the return of the legitimate King, it will again be bad luck for Mr. Fouquet. No matter how you turn it, the result is the same everywhere. Poor Monsieur Fouquet!
D'Artagnan once again looked at the luxury of the furnishings of the castle of Vaud, but this time with a completely different look - the look of a man who regrets the efforts of having created it all.
“Now,” he said to himself, “I have a historic mission in front of me in the destinies of France. Still, Mr. Fouquet is a worthy person. It wouldn't be a bad idea to save him. Or at worst, if he faces death, it should be dignified, not shameful. I could take him down in a fair fight. But arrest him like some thief, God forbid!”
Taking on a particularly proud posture, d'Artagnan went to look for Fouquet.
As soon as d'Artagnan entered Fouquet's room, he smiled affably, as if he were one of his faithful friends.
- Glad to see you here, Monsieur d'Artagnan? - he exclaimed. - I hope you came to me with some request?
“Yes and no, Mr. Superintendent,” answered the musketeer.
“I would prefer “Yes,” dear d'Artagnan. Come in!
- Thank you, I'm already in.
“I’m very tired, Mister Captain, so I would be grateful if we could skip the usual small talk.” I am sure that a person like you comes to a person like me only when he has a serious matter, although, believe me, I would be happy if you sometimes looked at me just like that, without any specific goals.
“You’re right, monsignor, I have a goal.”
- So, you have a request for me that is not? – Fouquet smiled tightly.
“I would like to ask you, monseigneur, to disappear somewhere so that I cannot find you when I need you, but I in no way ask you to do this.”
“So, the King ordered my arrest, but did not set the day and hour of my arrest?” I assume the written order has already been signed? - Fouquet said as if he had calmed down.
“You are a very insightful man, Monsieur Fouquet,” replied d’Artagnan.
- So, I'm right!
- You are insightful, but not so insightful that you always guess right. This time you spoke your thoughts. I told you absolutely nothing from which one could draw the same conclusions as you did, monsignor.
“Aren’t you trying to save me from the impending arrest by offering me escape, Mister Captain?” – Fouquet was surprised.
“If you were right, I should have been called a traitor, and then demoted and imprisoned in the Bastille, that’s the minimum.” Richelieu would, apparently, execute me for such an offense. Do you seriously believe that I am so tired of my life and disgusted with freedom? – D'Artagnan grinned.
“I really find this behavior extremely reckless on your part, Mister Captain, but how else can you explain your words?” – Fouquet was even more surprised.
- Caring for you, monsignor, but not caring for your freedom, believe me, but just caring for your health. I find that the castle is too crowded at the moment, so there is a lot of noise and not enough fresh air. You have ordered absolutely everything, provided everything possible for the holiday. You can afford a little break away from this beautiful castle with such loud fireworks and such loud music.
—You don’t like fireworks and music? I am very upset, Mr. Captain!
- Don't talk about me, monsignor! I am an old warrior, the sounds of fireworks compared to cannon shots are just pathetic firecrackers. Any music in the castle of Vaud is more pleasant than military trumpets calling for an assault, although for me such music is quite pleasant and familiar. I only recommend that you take a break from this somewhere in the countryside, where it will be difficult to find you, and therefore it will be difficult to disturb your serene rest. Go, relax, even if it’s abroad!
- Definitely, I am right in my assumptions!
“You are decidedly wrong, but if the thought that you are right makes you listen to my advice, think as you please, but do not share your erroneous suspicions with a single soul in the world.” However, you are not one to talk, monseigneur!
“And you also recommend that I leave the castle of Vaud!” Just don't send me to the ladies.
- What do you mean too, monseigneur? However, I believe that Mr. Bishop of Vannes sent you to the ladies?
- It’s him. It's a clergyman!
- Only half, and less, Mr. Fouquet. A large part of Monsieur d'Herblay has always been and always will be a musketeer.
“I thought so too, Mister Captain.”
“We will be happy to discuss everything that you have ever imagined, monsignor, but only later, I beg you.” Go on vacation.
“I heard you, Mister Captain, and no matter what I do and how it ends, I am forever your debtor, and I dare to hope that you will consider me your friend.”
“You do amazingly correct things, Mr. Fouquet, and say amazingly correct words, monseigneur, but you are surprisingly late in all your deeds!”
“Except for the time when I was surprisingly in a hurry,” Fouquet replied, recalling how he sold the position of prosecutor general of France.
“Then do at least something on time, monseigneur.” Farewell!
With these words, d'Artagnan turned sharply on his heels and prepared to leave Fouquet's room.
- Wait, d'Artagnan! - exclaimed Fouquet. – Can I really leave and no one will stop me?
“ You really can leave and no one will stop you, monsignor.”
- And no one will look for me?
“I didn’t say that, Mister Fouquet.” I can't guarantee that someone won't need you at some point. After all, you occupy a very high position, and it imposes some responsibilities. But you can leave a deputy in your place, right?
- And no one will know where I went?
- Bah! - D'Artagnan grinned. – Do you think that such secrets can be kept for a long time? Besides, you won’t be going alone!
“My servants and my friends will not betray me,” Fouquet declared proudly.
- Firstly, even Christ did not say this, and if he had, he would have been wrong. Secondly, I will also go with you, and I am neither your servant nor your friend while I am in the King's service.
- Is that so? You won't leave me! So I'm already in custody?
“I will simply try to make friends with you, and for this reason I intend not to leave you too far and not for too long.” At least not so much that they won’t be able to find you as soon as they need it.
“You are inviting me to hide, Monsieur d’Artagnan, and you are depriving me of the opportunity to hide, since you intend to trick me,” said Fouquet.
“I didn’t suggest you go into hiding, and I didn’t promise you help.” I intend to accompany you, and if at the same time I am far from the King, perhaps I will not hear from him what I would not like to hear, however, as you wish.
“Can I assume that you simply decided to take a walk through the countryside, and for this reason you are trying to persuade me to join you?”
“Finally, you understood my thoughts very accurately, monsignor, and formulated them very correctly!” – the captain of the musketeers answered with a bow.
“Then I will repeat what I have already said, Monsieur d’Artagnan.” I am grateful to you for your wonderful advice, but I will not take it even if it brings me bad luck. But if I use it, it will bring misfortune to you, which I would not want under any circumstances. Moreover, I cannot leave the King while he is visiting me, and I must perform the functions of a hospitable host.
— Do you seriously feel like the owner of the Chateau de Vaud in the presence of the King, Mr. Fouquet? – asked the musketeer.
At these words of d'Artagnan, Fouquet shuddered. He remembered that the castle of Vaud no longer belonged to him, since in the evening he presented it to the King.
Hanging his head low, he quietly answered:
- I stay.
“So, I correctly understood your character, monsignor, since this is exactly the answer I expected from you,” the Gascon said sadly.
- Why did you start this conversation, Mister Captain?
- In order to reconcile with your conscience, Mr. Superintendent.
Fouquet blushed and said:
“In any case, dear d’Artagnan, you don’t have to watch me.” I won't run away.
- I believe you, monsignor. I would very much like to see my friend M. d'Herblay and therefore I will leave you alone for a while.
Fouquet cried out in surprise:
—Will you go to M. d'Herblay? And leave me alone?
“But you gave your word that you won’t leave, monseigneur!” Isn't this enough?
“You’re right, sir,” said Fouquet in a fallen voice, “I gave my word, and therefore I will not run away.”
And he shook the musketeer's hand with gratitude.
D'Artagnan left in order to find Aramis.
Fouquet looked after him, and as soon as d'Artagnan was out of sight, he began to rake papers from the drawers of his desk and throw them into the burning fireplace, without examining their contents or value.
When d'Artagnan returned, he found Fouquet in the same position in which he had left him. Fouquet serenely looked at the rose in a vase on the table.
“Change your cuffs, monseigneur,” said the musketeer, “you have soot on your sleeve.”
“I felt chilly and turned the coals in the fireplace,” Fouquet said embarrassedly.
- I guessed. And you apparently sent the stoker home to his sick daughter. You have an amazingly kind heart, monsignor!
“I suppose you didn’t find M. d’Herblay in his room?”
“Oh yes, I suppose he takes night walks in the park and writes poetry.” It reminds him of his youth.
- How! Is he not in his room? - Fouquet exclaimed in despair.
“If he were at home,” replied d’Artagnan, “then, apparently, he wished to remain alone for the whole evening, since no one answered my knock.”
- Alas, everyone is leaving me! - Fouquet sighed.
“My friend is not the type to leave those he calls friends in trouble.” Most likely he is doing everything possible to protect you from possible troubles, although I don’t understand why you decided that you were in danger of some kind of trouble.
“Of course, you want to console me, but you’re not doing it very well, Mister Captain.”
“Probably because comforting the inconsolable has never been my profession.” You should contact some female saint.

XII. Morning

All night Louis raged in Philippe's gloomy cell, and Philippe basked in Louis's luxurious bed, while each of them experienced a whole range of hitherto unknown feelings. The next morning, Aramis visited Philip, told him that Louis was tightly locked, and that nothing prevented Philip from becoming King of France.
After this conversation, Aramis went to Fouquet, intending to initiate him into his clever plan and discuss further actions.
After some additional valuable advice, which, however, Philip no longer needed, since he had already been carefully instructed by him earlier, Aramis decided to make it easier for Philip to take on the role of King. Since the King was to receive d'Artagnan in the morning, Aramis had no doubt that the captain of the musketeers would be the first to appear in the royal chambers. Possessing keen powers of observation and a tenacious mind, the Gascon could notice what Philip and Aramis did not notice or hide, and he could draw the right conclusions from the most insignificant signs. Fearing this, Aramis hastened to come up with a reason to delay d'Artagnan's meeting with Philip.
Meanwhile, d'Artagnan, who had spent the whole night guarding Fouquet, but not at all guarding his papers, since he had received no such order, finally decided to leave his prisoner in order to pay a morning visit to the King and receive an order for the arrest of Fouquet, or not get it. When parting, Fouquet, in despair, asked d'Artagnan to send Aramis to him, to which the musketeer promised, provided that it was in his power.
As soon as d'Artagnan approached the door of the royal bedroom and knocked, the doors opened, and he saw before him the thin, impassive face of Aramis.
- Aramis! - the captain exclaimed in surprise.
“Good morning, dear d’Artagnan,” the bishop greeted him dispassionately.
“An unexpected meeting, here, in this bedroom,” said the musketeer.
“Even royalty sometimes needs servants of God, dear friend.” After a tiring night, the King is still resting.
- Of course. And the best rest is a conversation with the bishop,” d’Artagnan picked up, smiling.
Aramis portrayed an embarrassed and submissive smile, realizing that d'Artagnan should be given an explanation by what unimaginable way a simple bishop in one night took the place of mediator between Louis XIV and his entourage, received the right to order in his name, being two steps away from him, that is, became even something more than, in their best times, Richelieu was for Louis XIII or Buckingham for Charles I.
D'Artagnan smiled indulgently, as if the situation was no big deal, causing Aramis to feel cold rivulets of sweat running down his back. Indeed, he would have preferred it if the Gascon had roughly grabbed Aramis by the clothes, pulled him aside and hissed: “Tell me in order, Monsieur d’Herblay, what happened here?” In this case, Aramis had two or three absurd tales in store, one of which he was going to tell after d'Artagnan did not believe the first two, and he hoped that it would pass as at least a half-truth. D'Artagnan's calmness indicated that he probably understood everything.
“What he thought were bad thoughts came into the king’s head, and he, abandoning them, decided to immediately confess. And since I, by chance spending my mortal days visiting the magnanimous Monsieur Fouquet, turned out to be the clergyman who was closest at that moment, I was brought to the King,” continued the bishop. “This is just an opportunity that the Lord was pleased to provide me with.”
“I understand, Monsieur Bishop,” d’Artagnan readily picked up, “His Majesty appreciated the many merits of the Bishop of Vannes and ordered from now on to visit the royal bedroom more often.” Quite a normal situation. This happens all the time. Congratulations, your high priesthood! Would you be so kind as to ask His Majesty, Monsignor, how I should deal with the fact that the King has ordered me to attend his reception early in the morning?
- I am aware of your matter, Mr. Captain. – Aramis answered. “This matter is not as urgent as it was yesterday; it can be discussed after breakfast or even later.”
“We’ll put it aside, we’ll put it off,” came Philippe’s voice from the depths of the alcove, which was so similar to Louis’ voice that the musketeer shuddered and fell silent.
He bowed to Aramis and silently walked towards the exit.
- Wait, dear captain! - Aramis exclaimed. “On the question for which you came to the King for an answer, dear d’Artagnan, there is already a solution.” Here is an order for you, which you should immediately familiarize yourself with and familiarize Mr. Fouquet with.
D'Artagnan took the order from Aramis's hands, sealed with the royal signature and seal.
- Let go free! - he muttered.
“And in words, tell Mister Fouquet that the King thanks Mister Fouquet for the gift he offered, but cannot accept it.” The king replied that it was he who was going to give Monsieur Fouquet a gift, and he would soon tell him what it would be,” Aramis added with a soft smile.
“Now I have no more questions left for the King and for you, monsignor,” d’Artagnan answered with the same soft smile, after which he left with such a light gait and with such a serene appearance, as if Saint Peter himself had descended from heaven and informed him that a place in heaven had already been prepared for him, and would wait for him for at least another fifty years.
favors could only flow from the King's double, but not from the real Louis XI V.
“Wait, d’Artagnan, I’m coming with you,” Aramis stopped him. “I also want to meet Monsieur Fouquet to witness his joy.”
“Dear Aramis, you reminded me that M. Fouquet really asked me to send you to him.” He probably wanted to talk to you alone. As for me, since I am freed from the need to guard him, I will perhaps refrain from visiting the man who was annoyed by my presence all evening and all night. After all, you yourself can show him this order. And I remembered that I promised to visit Porthos as soon as there was such an opportunity, and it seems to me that it arose right now.
Aramis shrugged and went to Fouquet's office, taking the order from d'Artagnan's hands.
Making sure that Aramis had left, d'Artagnan approached the royal valet.
“Good morning, Hubert,” said d’Artagnan. - At what time did His Majesty send for Mr. Bishop of Vannes?
“Good morning, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” replied the amazed footman. “He didn’t send for him at all!”
- Oh yes! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - How did I forget? After all, just yesterday evening, in front of me, His Majesty asked the bishop to come to him exactly at eight o’clock in the morning!
“I’ve been here since six o’clock, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” the footman objected. “I assure you, Mister Bishop did not pass by me.” He was already in the bedroom at this time!
- Absolutely right! - D'Artagnan smiled. “His Majesty said so.” He ordered the monsignor to come at five-thirty, or a little later, but no later than eight o’clock in the morning, that’s what he was told! All the best, Hubert!
And d'Artagnan again resolutely twirled his right mustache, after which he left with an air as if he had resolved the most important question of the universe.

XIII. Friend of the King

Fouquet expected d'Artagnan to appear and arrest him, but he secretly hoped that Aramis would also come before d'Artagnan or with him. In the last days of their communication, Aramis so confidently promised Fouquet salvation from all troubles, from ruin to the King’s disfavor, that Fouquet, against his will, was filled with faith in the omnipotence of this man. In fact, what else could he do in a situation where, following ruin, he was threatened with arrest, and possibly execution?
When he heard steps, it seemed to him that they were the steps of a military man, so he decided that d'Artagnan was coming towards him, alone, without Aramis. Fouquet intended to calmly meet his fate and, having pulled himself together, with the calmness of a doomed man, awaited the appearance of the captain of the musketeers.
The doors opened and a smiling Bishop of Vannes appeared on the threshold.
“What a blessing that fate allowed me to meet you, monsignor, before I was arrested!” - exclaimed Fouquet. “I know that nothing can be done to save me, but you, my friend and clergyman, will give me the consolation that I need, but I would not want to show this to anyone but you, my friend.”
“You are absolutely mistaken in everything except that you call me your friend!” - Aramis answered.
- What are you trying to say? - Fouquet was surprised.
“You are mistaken in thinking that you need consolation because you are mistaken in thinking that you will be arrested.” Not only will you not be arrested, but you will also be rewarded for all your services, and rewarded with dignity. - Aramis answered. - Calm down, smile and be happy. This order cancels your arrest. There will soon be new orders that will return to you everything that was taken from you, and will also reward you beyond that.
“I don’t understand very well why the King ordered me to be arrested yesterday, just as I don’t understand why he postponed my arrest for an indefinite period of time, but I understand even less the reasons why the King today decided to cancel his yesterday’s order, and also intends to you claim to reward me. Apparently, any courtier should be prepared for such unmotivated actions of the King, but there must be at least some logic, there must be reasons for all these changes?
“If you please, I’ll explain,” Aramis smiled. “We have enough time, we ’re not in a hurry.” First of all, I will explain to you the hatred of the King. Firstly, you are too rich when the King was too poor for a very long time.
- Alas, this is true, as is the truth that everything has changed today. After the death of the cardinal, the King inherited significant sums, while I, by order of the King, spent everything I had at my disposal. When the royal treasury was exhausted, I was forced to draw from my own funds, when they ran out, I sold something, from things and from positions, as you know, but it did not help. Not only did I go bankrupt, but somehow I displeased the King so much that he decided to arrest me!
- The King’s money goes to state needs, and there is not as much left for a luxurious life as one might think, while you have demonstrated such luxury that the King cannot afford.
- My God! After all, I myself do not live in the luxury with which I tried to surround my King! Can serving your King really be regarded as something reprehensible? - exclaimed Fouquet.
“Just accept the fact that you have shown the King a level of wealth that the King himself does not have.” And this made him irritated.
“So be it, we already discussed this yesterday, and you advised me to give him the castle of Vaud, which I did.” But the King has not yet accepted my gift, and any decision he makes will cause my despair. If he accepts the gift, I am completely ruined; if he refuses, then I am offended.
- There will be neither one nor the other. The King will thank you very heartily, so you will not be offended, but the King will return your castle of Vaud to you as a reward for your faithful service, so you will not be ruined.
- Therefore, talk about the King being jealous of me is a joke?
— Let’s restore the chronology of our conversation. First, let's figure out why the King hates you and why he ordered you to be arrested, and after that we'll talk about why his decision and your fate changed in such a favorable way.
- I'm paying attention.
— For the sake of brevity, we will limit ourselves to the facts. Fact one. The king is jealous of your luxury and your wealth, and even if it doesn’t exist, you will manage to very convincingly demonstrate that it exists. The king is jealous and therefore hates. Fact two. You wrote a letter to his beloved Mademoiselle de La Valliere, he found out about this letter, he read it, it aroused his ardent jealousy, so he hates you even more.
“But it was you who recommended that I write this letter, monsignor!” - Fouquet was surprised.
- Yes, I admit, I gave bad advice. I managed to find out before anyone else that this mademoiselle would have a very great influence on the King, and therefore I considered it worthwhile to enlist the friendship or love of this mademoiselle. You have the gift of impressing almost all women in France! I just made a mistake in assessing her character. Such women are one in a million. She needs the King only as the very man he is besides his royal power and dignity. If the next day the King turned out to be the simplest citizen of France, she would love him no less, and if someone else turned out to be the King, he would not arouse any feelings in her. Such relationships are called love.
- I will explain everything to the King! I will explain that I offered only friendship to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re. He will understand me, because he is a man!
“Louis is a man, and that’s why he will understand you in his own way, not the way you would like him to understand.” However, nothing needs to be explained. “I brought you an order to cancel the arrest,” Aramis objected.
“It cannot be that a person was arrested just because he tried to please his King and proposed friendship to the King’s girlfriend!” - Fouquet exclaimed in his hearts.
- Hundreds of thousands of people were executed for lesser offenses, however, this was not in our days, thank God! But there is also a third fact. It consists in the fact that you have thirteen million under your belt, for which you cannot justify yourself.
“This unfortunate misunderstanding did not arise yesterday, but the King decided to arrest me yesterday.” Moreover, I did not steal this money, I only lost the papers confirming the legitimacy of the expenses I made for the benefit of the King and France. However, I admit that in the absence of these documents I am a thief who has robbed the treasury.
“The king decided to arrest you yesterday for the reason that all three facts were presented to him at the same time by one person.
- His name is Colbert, I know! How he found out up to thirteen million, I cannot understand.
“I understand that, monsignor, but that’s not the point.” Now that doesn't matter either. The king is not angry with you, and you will never hear about this debt again. He's gone.
“Is the King really so generous that he forgave me all three sins or facts that you just mentioned?”
- Not at all! Louis XIV has not forgiven you, and will never forgive you, but the King of France has completely forgiven you, and will not make any claims against you.
- You speak in riddles, monsignor!
“In order for you to understand and appreciate everything, monsignor, I will have to let you in on a secret that until yesterday evening was known only to three people and the Lord.” Tonight another person was initiated into it, although I suppose she did not educate him. You will be fifth,” Aramis said with a smile.
“I know how to keep secrets, mine and others,” Fouquet objected, “but that’s why I know that the best way to keep someone else’s secret is not to know it at all.” It will be calmer for both me and you.
“But I intend to reveal this secret to you, monsignor,” Arami objected.
“If it’s important to you, I’m all ears,” Fouquet replied.
— Did you know that Louis XIII has a brother?
- Of course, the whole world knows about this, this is the Duke of Orleans! Fouquet shrugged.
“I mean the other brother, the twin brother.”
- Impossible! The birth of Louis took place in the presence of proper witnesses, Fouquet continued to object.
“So it was,” agreed Aramis, “but these witnesses left the Queen when the birth of the primacy ended.” However, the contractions did not end there, and after some time the Queen gave birth to a second son, who was as similar to the first as two peas in a pod.
“This is an interesting fantasy, dear d’Herblay, I will have to share this funny story with M. Lafontaine.” However, for this plot we should choose another country, and even, probably, another century. It will be a nice fairy tale! - Fouquet was amused.
- Come to your senses, monsignor! “I told you the honest truth,” Aramis interrupted him.
- Excuse me... Are you saying that Queen Anne gave birth to not one Dauphin Louis, but two at once, twin brothers? - Fouquet became serious. “How, I ask you, did this remain a secret to all of France, and why did it not remain a secret to you, Monsieur d’Herblay?”
“I understand your mistrust, monsignor, and I am ready to explain all the circumstances that interest you.” Firstly, the King was initially delighted, but hastened to share his joy with the cardinal. Richelieu, who never forgot about state interests, cooled the King’s joy by explaining to him that one Dauphin is the tranquility and well-being of the country, while two equal contenders are a source of unrest and disaster.
“Couldn’t laws on succession to the throne issued by the King in advance for this occasion solve all these problems?” - Fouquet was surprised.
— Do you agree, monsignor, that two twin brothers legally have completely equal rights to the inheritance of the throne? - asked Aramis.
- Without a doubt! - Fouquet replied. — Various interpreters allow deviations from this statement, which only further confuse the situation. While some argue that the eldest brother is the one who came first from the womb, others argue that, on the contrary, the first to emerge is the one who was inserted last, that is, the one who was born first was conceived second. In this confusing situation, it is more correct, in my opinion, to recognize the twins as having complete equality in rights. I would say that from a legal point of view, the twins are united in their rights, and their rights are equal, therefore, if they are divided, then only equally.
“Since I hear this answer from the lips of the Attorney General of France, I recognize your statement as the only correct one,” Aramis smiled.
“I’m no longer the prosecutor general,” Fouquet smiled sadly in response.
- Already or else, we will deal with this later. I suppose that you will not refuse to receive the position of Prosecutor General from the hands of the King as a gift, provided that the King buys this position from the one who bought it from you by cunning? But we digress from the topic,” Aramis continued. “So, if twins were born, and this is exactly what happened, then, according to the laws of God and man, they should have received equal rights in relation to the inheritance of the crown of France. Both of them had the right to live in the palace, be raised as princes, and be declared heirs of the King. But for reasons given to the King and Queen by Richelieu, one of the brothers, born only half an hour later, was criminally deprived. He was first secretly handed over to a nurse, where he grew up far from the palace, although not in poverty, but not in the luxury that befits the heir to the throne, and later, for the same reasons, to protect the remaining heir from any shocks, and France from threats of a coup, the unfortunate prince was placed in the Bastille.
“This is terrible, and I am ready to believe you and be indignant with you, monsignor, but you did not answer my question about how you know this?” – Fouquet asked worriedly.
“In those days, I was young, amorous, romantic, and I thought the most beautiful lady in the world was one who was so close to the Queen that she was privy to this secret. - Aramis smiled again.
- Duchess de Cheve...
- There is no need for names, monsignor, we have already named too many of them!
“And I really knew that she was madly in love with either a musketeer or an abbot, so it was you, bishop?”
“Many clergy in their youth were not distinguished by abstinence, which made them even more zealous servants of God, since they have something to pray for,” Aramis sighed and raised his eyes to the sky.
“So she told you everything,” Fouquet guessed.
- Not quite. She only once decided to resort to my help to resolve one issue in connection with this case, I drew attention to some inconsistencies in this case, carried out my own little investigation, after which my charming friend - in those years she was simply lovely, how charming! - told me everything I wanted to know, fearing that otherwise I would make it so that someone who should not know what I know would still find out.
“You convinced me, monsignor.” I believe every word you say! - exclaimed Fouquet. - But this knowledge imposes some responsibilities on us! We cannot allow the rightful co-heir to the crown of France to languish in the Bastille!
“I thought the same way, monsignor,” said Aramis cheerfully, rejoicing that he had found such a sensibly reasoning like-minded person in Fouquet. - After all, if one brother received all the rights, depriving another, who has exactly the same rights, then the first of them is a usurper, and the second is an innocent victim, isn’t it?
“That’s right, and it’s our duty to fight to establish justice!” - Fouquet echoed enthusiastically.
“There’s no need to fight anymore,” Aramis shrugged.
- Are you saying that we are late? - Fouquet was horrified. - Did the unfortunate prince really die in the Bastille?
- He is alive and well, my dear friend, everything is fine with him, calm down! - Aramis objected.
“Everything can’t be all right with the prince imprisoned in the Bastille!” Let's go liberate him immediately! - Fouquet did not let up.
- To begin with, just agree that the second brother has all the legal grounds to rule France, while the first of the brothers, even unwittingly, not knowing all the circumstances that I told you about, still remained a usurper?
- Of course, monsignor! Two twin brothers are almost the same as one person, they are two in one. This is so, and therefore we must hurry all the more, because just think that every extra minute spent by the prince in the Bastille is terrible, it is a stain of shame on the whole country! - Fouquet did not let up.
“We are finally coming to the explanation I am trying to give you.” Compare the two facts. The first one I told you about is that Louis XIV hates you and will never forgive you. His stay in power is a death sentence for you. The other one, whose name, by the way, is Philip, not only does not feel any hatred towards you, but on the contrary, he is very disposed towards you, since he knows about you from my stories, and not from the lips of slanderers and envious people, such as Colbert.
“I don’t see any connection between these facts,” Fouquet was perplexed.
“Add to this the fact that you received from my hands a decree from the King canceling the previously signed decree on your arrest.
“Philip could sign such a decree.” I understand! Did you convince the King to release Philip and now France has two Kings? And the second King convinced the first to refuse my arrest? A very bizarre turn of events! - Fouquet was delighted.
- In this regard, I share Richelieu’s views that France does not need two Kings, this is too many. Twice as much as required.
“Then what is the explanation?” You threatened the King that you would reveal his secret, and thereby forced him to refuse my arrest? Did you know that this is extremely risky? – Fouquet asked worriedly.
— I call risky those events in which there is a chance to win. In a situation with threats to the King, there is no chance of success. If I had acted as you say, both of us would already be in the Bastille,” Aramis said bitterly.
- I understand! - Fouquet was horrified. “You replaced the King with his twin brother!” What a terrible crime! After all, you could not act by conviction. Therefore, you acted by force! Have you raised your hand against your monarch, against the King? If you are not afraid of human judgment, at least fear God’s judgment!
“I am inclined to believe that God chose me as an instrument for restoring justice, and in this case I am not God’s enemy, but his faithful servant,” Aramis answered with ostentatious humility.
- Unthinkable! Encroach on the King's freedom at the very moment when he was visiting me and trusted me completely? - Fouquet continued to be indignant.
“He didn’t trust your hospitality that much!” - Aramis objected. “He brought with him the guards who guarded him in your house.”
“He could bring with him anyone he wanted to bring.” The King's friends are my friends, and his guests are my guests.
-Have you killed the King? - Fouquet exclaimed in fear.
“I just swapped the places of two twin brothers.” Remember, monsignor, you yourself said that two twin brothers are almost the same as one person, they are two in one? Therefore, swapping them is the same as simply rotating one person! Where there was left became right, and where there was right became left, the whole remained whole.
- Violence was committed against my guest in my house! This alone disgraces my house forever, as well as me! But violence was committed against the King of France! Nothing can wash away this shame forever! It would be better if I were arrested today and taken to the Bastille!
“But you are innocent of anything, monsignor, while Louis is guilty before you!” - Aramis tried to object.
“If it weren’t for your adventure, I would have ended up in the Bastille without guilt.” Suffering for an innocent person is not as terrible as suffering knowing that you have great guilt behind you! Woe is me! But I'll fix everything! I'm going to the Bastille immediately to free the King!
— And take his place there? And at the same time hide me there, monsignor? And that innocent prince, who has no less rights to the throne that Louis occupied individually? - Aramis asked indifferently.
Indeed, he was overcome by complete apathy, born of disappointment, since the great Fouquet, instead of appreciating the intelligence and enterprise of Aramis and rejoicing at the opportunity to reap the fruits of such a successful plan brought to life, intends to ruin everything, as a result of which the destinies of people dear to him will be hopelessly crippled. This list included both Philip and Fouquet, but above all there were Porthos and Aramis himself. But as soon as Aramis remembered Porthos, his apathy disappeared. He must save Porthos, who trusted him with everything.
“Monsignor, you are free to do as you see fit, since you are now free,” said Aramis without any apathy, “but remember that what you have in mind will raise your enemies to the pinnacle of power, and reduce your enemies to ashes.” friends.
- I mourn this, Monsieur d'Herblay! Thinking about the King, I didn’t think about you and my and your other friends! Of course you are right. I must give you a chance to escape. Go to Belle-Ile immediately! It is fortified so that the King will not be able to take it. Take refuge there, take Monsieur du Valon with you. Take all the diamonds you find in my secretary, they are yours, and I don’t need anything else!
“If your mind were as cold as your heart is hot,” exclaimed Aramis, “you would be an extremely great man!” What would we not achieve together!
“I don’t strive to be great,” Fouquet objected.
- What about the inscription on your coat of arms? After all, it says: “Wherever I can climb!”
— Just recently I saw the meaning in this motto. But not today, not now. At this moment I would rather be a beggar and beg on the steps of the church than bear the heavy burden of shame of betraying my King at the moment when he trusted me and was a guest in my house.
“You shouldn’t want to think for a minute and evaluate the whole situation.” “I don’t understand your stubbornness,” Aramis said wearily.
“This is not stubbornness, this is a principle, this is my way of thinking and the rule of life,” answered Fouquet.
“The world we all live in is not suitable for noble people like you.”
“I have my shortcomings, I know them, and I’m not trying to improve, but you encroached on those of my principles that are undeniable to me.” I cannot sacrifice my own well-being for the well-being of the King.
“In this case, you will be sacrificed to the whims, jealousies and caprices of the very King about whom you are so concerned, my dear madman!” - Aramis said sadly.
- I'm ready for this. I give you four hours for you and du Valon to leave the castle of Vaud. This time is enough not only to break away from any pursuit and safely reach the Belle-Ile fortress, but even to leave France.
“Well, I could stop you by force.” And you might later be grateful to me for that. But I don't want to do this. Marvelous! Although tying you up and locking you in your own house until you come to your senses would not only be the easiest way out for me and you, but would also be very useful for my future plans, while letting you go means for me expulsion from France forever, and besides, there is a mortal danger for me and for my friend du Valon, I don’t want to stop you,” said Aramis.
“Leave your thoughts for calmer times, and now let’s get down to business.” The four hours I gave you have already begun, and you have less and less time left! I am going to get ready for the road, after which I will go to Paris to rescue my King from the Bastille.
With these words Fouquet left.
“The reason is that I am implementing my own plans,” Aramis said sadly. “If we had acted according to our common plan, mine, and also Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan, I would have brushed this insignificant romantic from my path like I brush dust from my sleeve. But without this moral support of our holy union, I yield to such absurd arguments as the superintendent's hospitality, or his false notions of the duty of a loyal subject. Recognizing equal rights for the two princes, he is still ready to come to terms with the fact that the one who has already languished in it for too long will be hidden in the Bastille, but cannot come to terms with the fact that the one who that's the right place. A pathetic little man, controlled by false concepts of honor. Of course, he will end up in the Bastille, and God knows that I will not lift a finger to get him out of it, even if such an opportunity presents itself. This person no longer exists for me.

XIV. The Forgotten Prince

Aramis's first impulse was to head for Porthos and immediately ride as fast as he could to the fortress of Belle-Ile, and perhaps further beyond the borders of France. Aramis had a very strong position in Spain, and he could have settled well there with Porthos. But Aramis suddenly remembered that he had completely forgotten about the fate of the unfortunate Prince Philip.
“If Porthos and I leave and leave him alone on the throne,” he told himself, “it would be an extremely wrong act.”
But Aramis was not worried about the ethical side of the matter, as our readers might think, but about the political one.
“How will events develop here, at the castle of Vaud and throughout France, if I leave now? - Aramis asked himself. — Until Fouquet returned Louis, Philip is the King for everyone. He can sign orders, decide destinies, even declare war! Of course, the returning Louis will cancel all these orders, but not every order can be canceled. Although gifts and favors can be canceled, a prisoner imprisoned in the Bastille can be released, but, for example, an executed person cannot be revived by any orders of the King, a declared war cannot be stopped with a single stroke of the pen! If I entrusted France to a man who was supposed to act on my advice, and I myself disappear, what will this all-powerful prince do, who does not even suspect that he could soon be returned back to the Bastille, or even executed? And why am I so sure that Fouquet will be able to return Louis? Bezmo, devoted to me, would sooner imprison Fouquet in the Bastille than release, at his request, a prisoner whom he knows is guilty of the greatest guilt of high treason, because he thinks that he is just an unfortunate madman, who by chance resembles the King, who imagines himself to be the King , and therefore must be kept in the Bastille most secretly, who cannot be released, for the release of such a person to freedom means for Bezmo disobedience to the King, the death penalty for treason against France! Fouquet will try in vain to bring Louis back, but, of course, he won’t succeed! Still, I shouldn't risk it. If it worked for me, it might also work for Fouquet, since, it seems to me, today is not my day, and fate may send Fouquet unexpected help from a side that I am not aware of. After all, I shouldn't worry too much about Philip's fate. In any case, he is a prince of the blood, and he does not face the death penalty, which cannot be said about me and about Porthos. If Fouquet returns Louis, he himself will find himself in his place in the Bastille, and Philippe will also be hidden there. Then the best place for me is Spain. If Fouquet doesn’t succeed, then he can slowly return to Philip and explain his absence by the urgent need for some urgent negotiations with France’s future ally. I was in Spain, taking care of strengthening the throne of Philip, I solved his problems, I was in his service. In addition, I trust him so much that I allowed him to make his own decisions, ruling France as King. Wouldn't that justify me in his eyes? We should also not forget that my too rapid rise and too frequent visits to Philip may catch the eye of someone who is too observant. Someone like d'Artagnan. Yes, however, there are no others like him, but this one is enough. Already now I am once again honored by the cold sweat running down my back as I remember the look with which d'Artagnan looked at me when he asked how long I had been friends with the King. Fortunately, he didn't suspect anything. But he might guess if I show up in Philip’s chambers too often. I'm right, I should leave. Whatever one may say, Porthos and I belong in the Belle-Ile fortress, or even in Spain. So, let's go."
After these reflections, Aramis resolutely set out in search of Porthos with the intention of immediately leaving the castle of Vaud.
Approaching Porthos's room, Aramis heard deafening, even snoring. The good-natured giant slept sweetly in the sleep of a righteous man, which nothing prevented him from feeling. The brave musketeer already in his thoughts and dreams saw himself as a duke and a peer, a man who personally served the King and was treated kindly by him in every possible way. Envious neighbors with low bows hurried to him with congratulations, but he only answered: “Come on, gentlemen! Why these ceremonies, because we are neighbors! However, later, gentlemen, not now! I’m hurrying to the King’s for dinner!” And the neighbors bowed even lower than before.
In the very middle of this dream, the King appeared in him, who for some reason said in the voice of Aramis: “Wake up at last, Porthos! We must hurry!
Porthos rubbed his eyes and saw Aramis in front of him, who sighed and said:
- Good God! How soundly you sleep, Porthos! It's time to wake up, we're in a hurry.
- Why shouldn’t I sleep if we spent the whole night traveling! It's tiring, you know! - Porthos laughed.
“Our next trip will take place right now, but we will not be traveling in a carriage, but on horseback.” On the road, Porthos! - Aramis answered decisively, from which Porthos realized that he was not joking.
“We won’t even have something to eat before the road?” - he asked sadly.
“We’ll refresh ourselves on the road, or better yet, upon arrival,” answered Aramis.
- Understand! Are we going to have breakfast at the King's? - Porthos winked joyfully, who didn’t even bother to wonder why he had to go somewhere for breakfast with the King if the King himself was nearby, in the castle of Vaud.
“Not immediately and not quite in the form you suggest, but some adventures undoubtedly await us,” answered Aramis, vainly feigning sincerity on his thin face.
— Adventures are even better than breakfast with the King! - Porthos exclaimed, adding, - Still, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to refresh yourself for the road.
“We are riding on your horses; travel bags are already attached to their saddles, containing smoked ham, cheese, bread and Burgundy wine,” said Aramis.
- And loaded muskets, as always? - Porthos inquired. “With this equipment we’ll get all the way to England!”
“It is possible that this will happen... We will have to ride for quite a long time,” answered Aramis, who realized in time that until they set off, they should not tell Porthos the final goal of the journey. - So, let's go!
“Let’s hug d’Artagnan before the road and go,” Porthos answered.
“My God, so many delays! There’s a little more than three left of the four hours Fouquet gave us,” Aramis thought. “But Porthos is right.” It is necessary to hug d'Artagnan, because it may very well happen that we will never have another such opportunity . You should say goodbye."
At that very moment d'Artagnan appeared at the door.
- Glad to see you in good health, my friends! - he exclaimed. “Fortune has smiled on you, Aramis, and you are spreading its light to our dear Porthos.” How cute! Since Porthos' horses stand saddled, with provisions and muskets in the saddle, I assume you are in a hurry to carry out one of the King's most important commissions?
- You guessed it, d'Artagnan! - Porthos exclaimed joyfully. - Shall we come with us, like in the good old days?
“We are indeed in a great hurry, and our mission does not involve traveling companions, even those so dear to our hearts as d’Artagnan,” Aramis objected coldly. “However, this doesn’t stop us from hugging before parting.” Porthos and I wish you happiness, and you wish us a happy journey.
The friends hugged and exchanged wishes from the bottom of their hearts before parting.
- How wonderful that we are all together and all at the same time! - Porthos was touched, to which Aramis only shrugged, while d'Artagnan looked intently into Aramis's eyes, after which he nodded to Porthos with an ironic smile.
“It couldn’t be otherwise, could it, Aramis?” - he answered, after which he added, - I see you are in a hurry. Don't waste your precious time.
Porthos and Aramis moved towards the stables, and d'Artagnan said to himself: “Strange things are happening. I was already sure that Aramis managed to replace the King with his twin brother, but, apparently, Aramis is in too much of a hurry to get away from the King as far as possible, taking Porthos with him. As for our giant, he obeys Aramis in everything, who probably promised him a dukedom. But it is extremely inconsistent for Aramis to move away from his protege precisely at the moment when they both need each other so much, the prince needs Aramis to give valuable advice, and Aramis needs the prince to carry out his endless intrigues in an endless quest to seize as much power as possible . Apparently, Aramis' plan has failed, or may fail in the very near future. Aramis has the greatest nose for danger. No wonder he advised shooting Mordaunt when we still had no reason to do so! This person will not burn in fire and will not drown in water. Aramis running away can cause excitement even in me. I'll go and have a look at the King. Aramis has left, no one will stop me in front of the doors of His Majesty’s rest.”
And d'Artagnan slowly walked towards the King's chambers.
At that very moment, Philip had just dressed and finished his breakfast. He had not yet had time to receive anyone when d'Artagnan ordered the footman to report himself. As a captain of the royal musketeers, that is, in fact, the personal bodyguard of the King, he could, if necessary, enter without a report, but only as a last resort. However, court etiquette did not apply to him, and he could visit the King even when the doors for an audience had not yet been opened to anyone, including even members of the royal family.
“Ah, d’Artagnan, come in,” Philip turned to him, causing the cunning Gascon, who expected to see an impostor on the throne, to shudder.
“Have I made a mistake and the King is still in his place? - he asked himself. “It seems my inferences have led me to the wrong conclusions?”
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he answered and bowed low to the King’s hand.
“Tell me, d’Artagnan, where has your friend, the Bishop of Vannes, gone?” — the King asked in a casual tone, which still could not hide from the captain of the musketeers his strong interest in the answer.
“It seemed to me that you, Your Majesty, sent him on some important assignment.” He was in a hurry to leave.
- That’s right, I just forgot! - exclaimed the King.
“He’s making excuses to me, this is not the King,” thought d’Artagnan. - But I must not make mistakes! I'll try the last resort."
- Let me ask, Your Majesty, what is your opinion about the holiday organized at the castle of Vaux by Monsieur Superintendent Fouquet? Yesterday, it seems, you deigned to notice that the holiday was a great success? - said d'Artagnan, emphasizing the last four words. —Will you say the same about this holiday today?
“I have nothing to add to my words, captain, other than what I already said yesterday.” The reception given by M. Fouquet is truly magnificent, and I intend to thank him,” replied the King. “I haven’t yet chosen a specific way to show my gratitude, but I’m already thinking about it.
“It’s not him,” thought d’Artagnan. “There is no doubt that the King has been replaced!”
“Mr. Bishop of Vannes will undoubtedly advise, Your Majesty, when and how best to reward M. Fouquet,” answered d’Artagnan with a bow. “I will try to find him and send him to you as soon as he returns.”
- Excellent, Monsieur d'Artagnan, I entrust this matter to you. - The False King was delighted. - Go and carry out my instructions.
“I obey, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan and left with a bow.

XV. False king on the throne

After Philip began to receive visitors, almost nothing overshadowed him or caused concern. He behaved exactly as Aramis had taught him, which allowed him not to raise the slightest doubt that the same person was still on the throne who had been on it yesterday and all the previous years of the reign of Louis XIV . Even the Queen Mother did not suspect anything, although she showed slight alarm at Philippe's voice, which was still slightly different from Louis's. Philip referred to the fact that yesterday he felt slightly ill, however, nothing terrible happened, his throat no longer hurts.
“I will send a doctor to you, Your Majesty,” said the Queen.
“It’s really not worth it, mother, I’m already quite healthy,” Philip answered, and saw that the Queen had completely calmed down.
“Even if she guesses something, she won’t give me away,” thought Philip, who looked at the Queen with mixed feelings of love, concern and resentment, recalling that fleeting meeting that remained in his memory.
On this day, all the King’s relatives were present at the audience, except for his wife, Maria Theresa, which is why Philip breathed a sigh of relief: he almost never saw women, except for two women, the nurse and mistress of the house, the Queen Mother, and that unusually beautiful and sweet girl , whom he met by chance several times while he was not yet detained in the Bastille. He first met her as a girl.
Philip remembered this meeting as if it had happened a week ago.
His nurse, nurse and governess all rolled into one, Madame Onchamps, was a tall woman who wore a black dress with long, hanging sleeves trimmed with lace. She wore a velvet hood on her head. When Philip saw the canon much later, it seemed to him that he was dressed almost the same as his nurse was dressed. They temporarily lived in the house of her distant relative, Madame Goton.
When Philippe, still a small boy, lived under the supervision of Madame Onchamp in the house of Madame Goton, which stood in such a wilderness that no one ever came to visit them, one day something strange happened. Not far from where the road passed, a carriage apparently broke down. An unknown noble girl and her governess were riding in the carriage. The girl was approximately the same age as Philip was then. At first, Philip saw only the girl, who apparently decided to take a walk through the forest, and suddenly discovered this house where Philip lived, almost in a deep forest. She saw Philip and boldly approached him, clearly intending to meet him.
Suddenly an adult lady ran out of the forest and began screaming in horror:
 - Mademoiselle de Gramont! Come back! You can't go there!
Madame Honchamp cried out in horror:
- Mademoiselle de Gramont!
After that, she grabbed Philip's hand and pulled him towards the house. At the same time, she tried to shield Philip’s face from the unexpected guest.
Meanwhile, an unfamiliar girl screamed:
- Glorious Madame Goton! It's me, Katerina-Charlotte! I came to drink milk and eat eggs!
The voice of this girl rang like a heavenly bell, from this voice Philip felt a sweet trembling throughout his body. He didn’t want to go into the house, he wanted to stay next to this girl longer, so he said:
- Milk! She's talking about milk! But I'm hungry, I want milk too. And I want eggs. Madame Goton, bring us milk and eggs!
But Madame Honchamp was inexorable, she told Philippe:
“Come on, sir, now is not the time for you to stay here.”
Madame Goton also tried to persuade him.
“Sir, I beg you, go quickly into the house,” she said.
Philip had never seen her so scared before. She tried to force Philip into the house, but it so happened that they almost never used force against Philip, but acted only through persuasion.
The girl turned out to be not only beautiful, but also brave. Although she clearly understood that the adult ladies - both Madame Goton and the girl’s governess, who ran out of the forest after her - both did not want the children to get to know each other. Perhaps that is why she boldly approached Philip and asked:
- What is your name?
“My name is Jules Philippe,” Philippe answered.
- So what is next? - asked Mademoiselle de Gramont.
- Further? — Philip was surprised. - This is all. Isn't this enough?
“Only the King is simply called Louis,” the girl objected impudently, “and you are clearly not the King!”
Hearing the word “King,” Madame Onchamp clasped her hands, jumped up to Philip in horror, took him in her arms and rushed to run into the house. At the same time, Philip felt that she was so frightened, as if a pack of wolves were chasing them.
But the girl stubbornly did not want to leave, demanding that she be allowed into the house, while Philip himself suddenly decided to rebel, something that had never happened to him before. He also demanded to be allowed to meet this girl.
All three ladies were clearly scared.
Finally, Madame Honchamp announced to Philippe:
“You will have the milk, sire, on the condition that we all drink it in the lower hall, and you behave quietly enough so as not to attract new guests here.”
- I promise! – Philippe and Mademoiselle de Gramont said almost in one voice.
This is how I first met this girl.
It turned into grief for Philip. Apparently, those who ordered him to be kept away from people somehow learned that his privacy had been violated. Philip was transferred to another place, more remote and closed from human eyes. He never saw Madame Onchon and Madame Goton again, and suspected that something very bad had happened to them.
After that, fate gave him two more chance meetings with this girl, but by this time she had already become a beautiful young girl. And although these two meetings made a stronger impression on him, now for some reason he remembered precisely this first chance and fatal meeting in a forest hut.
-What are you thinking about, my son? – the Queen Mother asked tenderly.
“I was thinking, however, nonsense, nothing, nothing,” Philip answered absently. - Why don’t I see here...
—Mademoiselle de La Valli;re? - asked the Queen Mother haughtily.
- No, what are you talking about, mother! — Philip was surprised.
“The Queen, as you know, is somewhat ill and you yourself excused her from today’s audience,” the Queen Mother continued, less coldly. “However, your desire to see her will probably heal her, because she is your lawful wife before God and before people, and it seems that a little more attention to her on your part would heal her completely.” Should I call Her Majesty Maria Theresa?
“Let her rest and recover,” Philip hastily replied.
The Queen Mother bowed with dignity.
Philippe, meanwhile, looked at his younger brother, the Duke of Orleans, who was also named Philippe. He thought that this brother, who did not take away either his freedom or his crown, was worthy of his brotherly love and protection. Philip at that moment did not realize that Louis did not take anything from him for the simple reason that he simply did not know about his existence. Those who took from him his destiny as prince and king were already dead, except for the Queen Mother, who could not do anything about it, and, apparently, she herself fled from this injustice towards her son no less, than Philip himself, and perhaps even more, because mental torment is many times worse than physical torment.
Philip decided that he would love all his relatives and would not bear any grudge against any of them. He smiled affectionately at the Duke of Orleans, nodded to his wife Princess Henrietta, nicknamed Minette, and waved his hand, making it clear that the reception was over.
When everyone went to the exit, Philippe turned to the Duke of Orleans:
- My brother, please stay a while!
“I am entirely at your disposal, Your Majesty,” the Duke replied in surprise.
“Tell me, my brother,” Philippe said softly, “Mademoiselle de Gramont.” How is she?
—Are you talking about the Princess of Monaco? - The Duke was surprised.
“So she’s married,” Philip said sadly and somewhat disappointed.
“If you have an interest in this person, Your Majesty, then the fact of her marriage means nothing, does not interfere with anything, and even more.” But why are you asking me about her, and not your friend Comte de Guiche? I understand that you don't want to involve her brother in your relationship. Well, that's quite smart. But it seems to me that de Guiche is not the kind of person who would interfere with you in such adventures. Besides, perhaps it would have been time for him to settle down long ago and take care of the affairs of his King, rather than look at the wife of the King’s brother, right?
“Dear brother, I’m a little out of sorts today.” Forgive me for asking such stupid questions, I’m asking you about something that I could easily have learned from de Guiche, I’m just a little overtired from these festivities. I ask you not to tell anyone about our conversation.
- Of course, Your Majesty! - answered the Duke of Orleans, thinking to himself that he had an interesting topic for an evening conversation with his wife.
Naive Philip thought that such promises were worth something. If he wanted his brother not to tell anyone, then the worst way was to ask him to keep the secret. It would be much more effective to ask him to notify all the courtiers about this conversation. After all, the Duke would have regarded such an assignment as an obligation, and he loved to shirk any duties, while the promise to keep a secret caused an intolerable desire to divulge it to the first person he met in confidence.
The Duke of Orleans left with a bow, and Philippe was left alone, and all his thoughts were that Mademoiselle de Gramont is married and is now called the Princess of Monaco, and her brother, the Comte de Guiche, is listed as one of the King’s best friends, that is, he will now be the best his friend, Philip. The Duke’s phrase sounded in his head: “The fact of her marriage means nothing, does not interfere with anything, and even more.” He was not entirely sure that he fully understood the meaning of this phrase, but he thought that he had interpreted it quite correctly.

XVI. Commandant of the Bastille de Bezmo

The superintendent of finance, the former royal prosecutor, Mr. Fouquet, rushed as fast as he could to Paris, to the Bastille, seemingly not caring at all about the horses or the carriage. He would like his horses to have wings, like the mythical Pegasus, and to carry him and his carriage through the air. Despite the fact that the four hours of delay promised to Aramis should have seemingly forced him to take his time, the thought that the King of France was languishing in the Bastille like some kind of criminal urged him on so that it began to seem to him that his horse, and wings grow behind his back.
At the same time, due to impatience, he was angry with himself and with the horses, since at the same time it seemed to him that he was not going fast enough.
“How incredible in their strength, determination and luck are these mysterious musketeers, these four, stories about whose adventures do not stop in France! - thought Fouquet, - They decide the destinies of Kings as if they were simple chess pieces, and at the same time remain in a modest shadow, in obscurity, and sometimes even in poverty, if we compare their condition with what they could have made if they had spent all their money. energy just for this! Titans! Demigods! How great I seemed to myself, and how small I, the great Fouquet, turned out to be, in comparison with the Bishop of Vannes, a former musketeer who rearranges princes so that no one knows about it! What a great idea! What a filigree execution! If only this had not happened in my house! How strong were these extraordinary people in their youth, since even now, almost forty years later, having reached the age when ordinary people become ordinary decrepit old men, they remained titans, capable of creating such grandiose plans and carrying them out without blinking an eye? Even the King of France pales in comparison to them! Even Cardinal Mazarin! Only the great Richelieu could compare with Monsieur d'Herblay in his determination, intelligence, and fortitude! But they say that M. d'Herblay is in many ways inferior to M. d'Artagnan. And I’m ready to believe this, although I’ve known him recently, and not so deeply, but what I noticed in him convinces me that this is really so!”
Finally, Fouquet reached the gates of the Bastille. And only then did he realize how insignificant he really was in comparison with Monsieur d'Herblay! He arrogantly told Aramis: “I will give you four hours to escape!” Only now did he realize that it was Monsieur d'Herblay who continued to control the situation, and he had every right to say: “I give you a chance to save the King, if you so want it, and I will retire to a place where neither you nor your pathetic one can reach me.” King!"
If Monsieur d'Herblay had ordered the arrest of Fouquet, his order would have been carried out. After all, in the hands of the Bishop of Vannes there was an order to cancel the arrest of Fouquet, and the order of arrest remained in the hands of his friend, the captain of the musketeers d'Artagnan! Any of these two could easily decide the fate of Fouquet - either tear up the order of arrest, giving him freedom, or tear up the order to cancel the arrest, hiding him in the Bastille, or destroy both orders, leaving Fouquet in anxious anticipation of his fate, in complete uncertainty . They could not fear the wrath of the King, since on the throne sat the obedient pupil of the Bishop of Vannes, who, of course, would not allow any harm to the captain of the musketeers, and the captain could, with the help of his musketeers, arrest both the bishop and his False King, because it cannot be, so that he does not know about M. d'Herblay's plans! If these two were in a common conspiracy, they held Fouquet, the King, and all of France in their hands! And he imagined that he could easily come to the Bastille, go inside and free the King! He imagined that he was showing mercy towards the Bishop of Vannes, whereas it was the Bishop of Vannes, for unknown reasons, who showed mercy both towards Fouquet and towards the King locked in the Bastille. Incomprehensible people!
In desperation, Fouquet began knocking on the gates of the Bastille.
These gates, which, of course, would have instantly opened in front of Aramis, and would have opened, if not so quickly, but rather hastily in front of d'Artagnan, these same gates did not even think of opening in front of the superintendent of finance.
Fouquet, after endless persuasion, threats and insistence, was finally able to ensure that he was reported to the major, the commander of the guard. There was no question of getting through to the commandant.
Fouquet looked with hatred at the locked gates of the Bastille, I wish to get inside at all costs. He expected an answer from the major, not realizing that soon his desire to go to the Bastille would perhaps come true in completely different circumstances when this desire seemed justified to him. He had not yet realized that sitting like this in his own carriage in front of the gates of the Bastille, but outside of it, was much more pleasant than sitting inside the Bastille without any hope of ever getting out of it.
Finally, a guard came out of the guardhouse.
- Well, so what? - Fouquet asked impatiently. “Have you seen the major?” What did he order? Of course, he gave orders to let me in?
“No, sir, you’re mistaken,” answered the sergeant. “It’s good for you that he didn’t order to drive you away.” Our major simply laughed and said that Monsieur Fouquet was now in his castle of Vaud, receiving the King and his retinue. And even if Mr. Fouquet, due to some strange circumstances, ended up in Paris today, he still would not get up so early. Therefore, he called you an impostor and invited you to get away as quickly as possible to where you came from, however, if you have a desire to sit here in the carriage and claim that you are Mr. Fouquet, we will not interfere with you, this is the kindness of our major. He said that we are not responsible for what happens outside the walls of the Bastille, our part of responsibility is only these walls and everything that is inside these walls, and what is outside does not concern us.
- Damn it! You idiots! Before you is the Prosecutor General of France! Let me in immediately! - Fouquet shouted, hoping that the news had not yet reached them that this position no longer belonged to him.
- Understand us too, sir! - answered the guard. — Could you provide any documents confirming your words?
- You must know your boss by sight! - Fouquet exclaimed in anger.
- This is the Bastille, sir! We obey not persons, but documents. Do you have the King's order? Or an order from the Minister? Or an order from the Attorney General? - asked the guard.
- Let me inside and I will provide you with the necessary document! - Fouquet replied.
“If you have a document, show it and we will let you through,” was the answer.
- Blockhead! I will draw up this document myself, just give me a table, paper, pen and ink! - Fouquet continued to rage.
“Perhaps we could let you into the guardroom and give you what you ask,” the guard said hesitantly, looking expressively at Fouquet’s hands, on which the diamond rings still remained. - But I'm not sure it's possible. Perhaps no, sir, I cannot do this.
“I ask you for this favor and besides...” Fouquet finally realized that he still had in his hands some means of influencing these people. “May I ask you to show me this hospitality?”
“This is not a tavern, sir,” the guard answered more softly, without taking his eyes off the rings.
- But this is not prohibited? The guardhouse is completely at your disposal, isn't it? Listen, I’m finally hungry, and I want to ask you as a big favor to treat me with a cup of tea and a piece of bread, and for this I offer you this pure diamond,” with these words Fouquet took the ring with the largest diamond from his finger.
“The Lord ordered to share bread with the suffering,” the guard answered almost confidently. - God's command...
“The command of God is no less important than the command of the King, my dear,” Fouquet answered, taking the guard’s right hand with his left hand, placing the said ring in it with his right hand, after which he closed the guard’s palm and patted it approvingly with his hand.
“Follow me, sir,” answered the guard, opening the doors of the guardhouse.
Entering the room, Fouquet impatiently grabbed paper and pen, after which he began to write:

“Order to the commandant of the Bastille, M. de Bezmo.
Immediately release the prisoner who was taken to the Bastille this night.
Attorney General of France
Fouquet"

Having put his signature, Fouquet handed this document to the guard, who took the document with the words:
“I have to show this to the Major first.”
With these words he left, locking the doors behind him and leaving Fouquet alone with his thoughts.
Five minutes later the doors opened and the major entered the room. Looking at Fouquet, he cried:
- Monsignor! Is this really you? Oh monsignor, who would have thought! Let's go to Monsieur de Bezmo!
Fouquet stood up proudly, cast a contemptuous glance at the guard and followed the major.
“Your tea, monsignor...” muttered the guard.
- Drink it yourself! - Fouquet replied contemptuously.
That evening, the dinner of the guard who ate him instead of Fouquet cost half a million, however, it was not the guard who paid for it, but the superintendent of finance, Mr. Fouquet himself.
Bezmo, who did not yet know about the sale of the position of prosecutor general, stood at attention in front of Fouquet.
- Monsignor! - he exclaimed. - A thousand apologies! At a time like this? What a surprise!
“Sir,” said the superintendent with annoyance, “I congratulate you!” Your guards know their duty and perform it flawlessly!
Bezmo turned pale, correctly recognizing the irony and discontent in Fouquet's tone.
But Fouquet threw a heavy purse of gold onto de Bezmo’s table.
“Twenty pistoles to all guards,” he ordered, “fifty pistoles to the sergeant, one hundred pistols to the major.” Thank you for your service, gentlemen; I will report to His Majesty that he can rely on you. Expect promotions in rank. Now leave us, Major, I need to talk to Monsieur de Bezmeaux.
De Bezmeaux confirmed Fouquet's order with a nod. The major hesitantly extended his hand to the wallet, but, looking into de Bezmeaux's eyes, stretched out his hands at his sides, clicked his heels and walked away.
“Monsieur Commandant,” began Fouquet, “I came to you about the prisoner whom M. d’Herblay brought to you this night.”
“Monsignor, you were incorrectly informed,” Bezmault objected hesitantly, “no prisoners were brought to the Bastille last night, nor this week, nor this month.”
- Beware, Monsieur de Bezmeaux! - exclaimed Fouquet. “You dared to lie to the French Prosecutor General!”
“I would not dare to lie even to a simple musketeer if he brought documents confirming that I am obliged to give him a report on the prisoners in the fortress entrusted to me.”
And although Bezmo’s voice trembled, his gaze was firm and his intentions unshakable.
He firmly remembered the words of the Bishop of Vannes: “You released the wrong person by mistake. You simply return the one who was released by mistake to his original place, and release the one who should have been released! You and I both forget about this annoying nuisance, and your life will continue to flow in the same way as it has flowed until now, that is, serenely, calmly and joyfully. You remain commandant of the Bastille, and what is also important, you keep your head on your shoulders.”
For a whole hour after this, Bezmo pondered the situation. A few days ago, on orders for the release of Seldon, he mistakenly released Marchiali. That night, the Bishop of Vannes brought Marciali back and convinced Bezmo to read the order more carefully, which clearly stated that it was Seldon who should be released. That same night Seldon was released, and Marciali was restored to his former place. Thus, if you believe the Bishop of Vannes, no one knows that for two days Marchiali was at liberty instead of Seldon. This version should be followed to the end. According to Bezmo’s documents, everything is in order: two days ago one prisoner was released, there is an order for release, everything is correct in the records, for this it was necessary to tear out an entire page from the journal and rewrite it again, replacing the record of Marchiali’s release with the record of Seldon’s release.
- Monsieur de Bezmo! - Fouquet said in a firm voice, “since you are lying, from this moment I am forced to suspect you as an accomplice to the greatest crime!” I won’t blow your head off in this case, I promise you that!
“This is the second time this day that they are threatening me that they will not blow my head off,” Bezmo thought in fear, “however, the Bishop of Vannes is also the master of the order. His threats mean immeasurably more. If I act in accordance with the instructions received from him, my head will have a better chance of not being separated from the rest of my body.”
- What crime does the monsignor deign to talk about? - he asked in such a sincere tone that Fouquet was horrified to think that M. d'Herblay was simply joking with him, deciding for unknown reasons to expose him to ridicule.
“It’s impossible that d’Herblay would allow himself such jokes with me! - Fouquet thought in horror. “However, this idiot doesn’t seem to be lying!” Damn it, it's too late to retreat! I will go to the end, no matter how it ends!”
“I am talking about a crime in which you appear to be an accomplice, in which case you, sir, should be quartered, and I will undoubtedly see to it that this is so, unless, of course, I am mistaken.” and you were simply fooled. If you have been deceived, you must tell me the whole truth, in which case I promise that you will be dealt with fairly. The innocent have nothing to fear if they help solve a crime, restore justice and punish the guilty. Those who obstruct justice are considered accomplices. Think about it, sir! Lead me immediately to your prisoner.
-Which prisoner do you want to go to? - Bezmo asked with a trembling voice, but at the same time with a desperate determination to stand his ground to the end.
“So you pretend to know nothing.” Okay, I'll pretend that I believe in your ignorance. In that case, I will tell you who we are talking about.
At that second Fouquet went cold. He realized that d'Herblay had not told him the name under which the King's brother was recorded, and under which the King himself now resides in the Bastille.
“We are talking about a prisoner who is extremely similar to one person,” said Fouquet. - I will not continue, Monsieur de Bezmeaux. I think you already understand who we are talking about.
- Not at all, monsignor! - objected Bezmo, who detected a note of doubt in Fouquet's tone. - Every person is like someone else. I am not in the habit of looking at my prisoners. My business is to read the order, receive the prisoner, place him according to his rank, and make an entry in the register.
- Yes Yes! According to rank! - Fouquet perked up. “I demand that you take me to the highest-ranking prisoner you have in the Bastille.”
— Could you, monsignor, give more clear instructions? - Bezmo said less confidently, because he understood that we were talking about Marchiali.
“Either you’re a complete idiot, de Bezmo, or you’re pretending to be one, but that won’t help you!” - Fouquet said in an ominous voice. - Blockheads are not appointed commandants of the Bastille. So you are not a fool. So you are a conspirator? After all, I can look into the magazine and see for whose maintenance the largest sums are allocated? Don't you dare refuse the French Prosecutor General this?
Fouquet once again regretted that he had sold his position as prosecutor general, and mentally praised God for the fact that no one in the Bastille knew about this yet.
“So you want me to take you to Marchiali?” - exclaimed de Bezmo with such an air as if only now he realized who he was talking about.
- To him, you such a fool! - exclaimed Fouquet, rejoicing in his soul that his investigation was gradually moving towards completion.
“I must look at the order signed by the King,” Bezmo said calmly.
- What other order, damn it? — the superintendent was surprised.
- According to the order of the King, I am talking about Louis XIII , monsignor, but this order was not canceled, according to this order no one should see this prisoner. Only the King's order gives the right to see this prisoner. If you do not have such an order, monsignor, a meeting with this prisoner is impossible for you. Please forgive me, I am only doing my duty. “With these words, Bezmo straightened up proudly, after which he sat comfortably in his chair.
“So, you won’t let me in, Monsieur de Bezmeaux?” - Fouquet asked tiredly.
“I will let you in, monsignor, immediately after you present me with the King’s order for such permission.”
“Listen, Mister Commandant, I give you my word of honor that if you let me in to the said prisoner, I will at that very moment give you the King’s order.”
“If you have this order, I ask you to present it before I let you in, monsignor,” Bezmo objected. “If you don’t have it, you won’t be able to present it after you enter there, whereas the very minute I let you in, I’ll turn out to be a criminal.” In this case, I really can't shake my head.
- Monsieur de Bezmo, you are forcing me to act by force. If you do not immediately comply with my demand, I will order the arrest of both you and all the officers under your command.
— With what forces will the monsignor make the arrest? - asked Bezmo. - You arrived in a carriage with one coachman.
“I will return here with thirty cannons and ten thousand soldiers, Monsieur de Bezmo,” Fouquet said decisively. “You will regret your disobedience!”
“Monsignor, it seems to me, is losing his mind!” - this time Bezmo answered completely calmly. “Are you threatening me that you will take the Bastille by storm?” In this case, the King will take all your castles and fortresses by storm, no matter how many you have. As for us, ordinary soldiers in the service of His Majesty, we are ready to lay down our lives for him and will strictly carry out his orders. However, if you threaten the commandant of the Bastille in such a manner, you may not leave it now. In that case, you will not be able to return here with thirty guns and ten thousand soldiers, monsignor.
Fouquet, in despair, grabbed pen and paper from the table and wrote:

“An order to the merchant foreman to gather a militia of citizens and go to the Bastille to serve His Majesty the King.”

Bezmo shrugged:
- And who will take this order, monsignor?
Then Fouquet grabbed another sheet of paper and this time wrote:

“Order to the Duke of Bouillon and the Prince of Cond; to take command of the Swiss and the guard and march to the Bastille to serve His Majesty the King...”

Bezmo objected this time:
“In the name of the King, do you demand that I disobey the King’s orders?” If you can command the name of the King, monsignor, produce a document in which the King trusts your lordship to sign orders in his name. In this case, any paper written by you here in my office will be perceived by me as an order from the King.
Fouquet meanwhile wrote:

“Order to all soldiers, townspeople, and nobles to seize and detain, wherever they may be, the Chevalier d'Herblay, Bishop of Vannes, and his accomplices, to whom belong, firstly, M. de Bezmeaux, commandant of the Bastille, the suspect in treason, rebellion and insult to His Majesty..."

- Enough, monsignor! - answered de Bezmo. - You can write a whole stack of orders. Within these walls, without the specified supporting document, they are invalid when it comes to a special prisoner, about the content of which there are unequivocal instructions from the highest authority in France. When you leave here, you will be able to initiate a case against me, calling me a criminal and a conspirator. In this case, I have a document that I will present in my justification, and any court will consider me right in that I do not allow you to see that prisoner to whom you at all costs want to break through, but have not secured the appropriate order King.
Fouquet was humiliated and destroyed.

XVII. How to get to the Bastille

At that moment, the doors to Bezmo’s office opened and the major appeared on the threshold.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan to see you! - said the major and stepped back.
Indeed, d'Artagnan entered the room, looked at Fouquet completely without surprise, after which he cheerfully greeted Bezmo.
- Hello, my dear de Bezmo! - he exclaimed. — Lately we see you a little more often than usual!
- Hello, Monsieur d'Artagnan! — Bezmo answered affably, but somewhat warily. “I am glad to see you, if only because you never come to me without sufficient grounds and do not demand from me to do something that I cannot do without an order.”
- How could it be otherwise, Monsieur de Bezmo? - D'Artagnan was surprised. “I come to you only on business, and only with the appropriate order in hand.” Although on my last visit we had such a wonderful time in the company of my best friends that I, by God, am ready to come to you more often, but only if you invite me.
“So you have an order,” Bezmo said with obvious relief. “Now, Mister Fouquet, you will see how faithfully we serve His Majesty.” As soon as an order is presented to me to release a prisoner, or to take someone into custody, we immediately carry it out. Immediately!
Fouquet shrugged his shoulders wearily.
“Since you haven’t brought anyone, Monsieur d’Artagnan, I assume that the order instructs me to release someone?” - asked Bezmo.
“This time you are mistaken,” retorted d’Artagnan with a dazzling smile. “You must arrest another prisoner.”
- But where will I get this prisoner? - Bezmo was surprised. - After all, you arrived alone! I can't arrest someone you didn't deliver!
“ Read this order and everything will become clear to you, Monsieur de Bezmo,” d’Artagnan countered calmly and pulled out a paper from his large pocket, which he handed to Bezmo.
Bezmo ran his eyes over the order, shuddered, glanced at Fouquet, then looked at d'Artagnan's smiling face, then looked intently at Fouquet again. After this, Bezmo's face broke into a happy smile, and he bowed deeply to d'Artagnan, from which it was clear that he had completely calmed down regarding the scene that had recently played out in his office.
Then his face broke into the same exact smile that was on d'Artagnan's face, after which Bezmeaux turned to Fouquet:
“Monsignor, it seems to me that your intention to get to where you broke through so fiercely will come true almost exactly as you wanted it.” “You will end up in a cell in the Bastille,” he said with obvious irony.
“Thank you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Fouquet.
“Don’t rush into this, monsignor,” objected d’Artagnan, “after all, you don’t yet know the contents of the order.”
“However, you came here at the most opportune time,” Bezmo picked up, glad that he could take revenge on Fouquet for his threats and humiliation. - You are under arrest, Mister Fouquet, according to the King's orders.
Fouquet jumped up in surprise and then looked at d'Artagnan's face.
“Since you are not with your sword, monsignor, you can only proceed to the cell,” said d’Artagnan. - Monsieur de Bezmo! I must escort the prisoner to the door of the cell in which he will be placed. This is the will of the King. The camera must be top class. You will make an entry in the journal after the King’s order has been carried out exactly.
Fouquet, not understanding anything, stood up obediently, while de Bezmo took a bunch of keys from the safe, opened the door leading to the cells, and invited Fouquet and d'Artagnan to follow them.
Finally they approached the cell where Bezmeaux intended to place Fouquet. Bezmeaux opened the door with the key and invited Fouquet to enter this cell. At that same second, d'Artagnan pushed the unconscious Bezmo into the cell, slammed the cell shut and turned the key two turns. Fouquet looked with bewilderment at d'Artagnan, who calmly uttered only a short word:
- Let's go!
- Where? asked the perplexed Fouquet.
- To the cell from which the King’s cry is heard, isn’t it clear? - D'Artagnan answered calmly.
- But we don't have the key! - Fouquet objected.
“He’s probably on this bunch,” answered d’Artagnan.
- How do we know which one is which? - Fouquet was surprised.
“We’ll try them all, one will definitely do.” - D'Artagnan grinned. “By the way, monsignor, how long did you spend here?”
“It seems like it’s already about two o’clock!” - Fouquet exclaimed in surprise.
- Trying to convince Bezmo to break his duty? - D'Artagnan grinned. “A person who can be intimidated, bribed or fooled is not appointed Commandant of the Bastille. You can only defeat him or outwit him. In the second case, he will remain alive, which has recently seemed preferable to me.
“What amazing people these are! - Fouquet thought again. “I should have made all four of them my friends.” With such people you can achieve anything!”
Meanwhile, they approached the cell where Louis was imprisoned. From behind the doors came the desperate cries of the King:
- Help! I am the King of France! The vile Fouquet put me in this cage! Help the king against Fouquet! Death to Fouquet! Death to the scoundrel Fouquet! I am the King of France! Help the King!
These screams made Fouquet's heart bleed.
Trying to shout him down, d'Artagnan shouted:
- Your Majesty! We are your most devoted servants! We will immediately open these damned doors and restore your freedom! We beg you to have some patience!
The King did not immediately understand the meaning of what was said, but gradually he calmed down, and by the time d'Artagnan and Fouquet were finally able to open the doors, the King's despair had already given way to anger.
The door finally opened. The king looked joyfully at d'Artagnan, but at that same second he noticed Fouquet, whom he looked at with a look full of horror and furious hatred.

XVIII. Royal thanks

- The king looks like this! - the royal minister whispered in horror, not noticing the hatred in the King’s gaze.
-Have you come to kill me, sir? - the King asked Fouquet.
“Monsieur Fouquet has come to return to you the freedom taken away by the insidious conspirators, Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan with a low bow.
Louis seemed to be trying to press himself against the wall of his cell in order to disappear, to dissolve in it. He still did not believe in his release, just as a few hours ago he could not believe in his captivity.
Appreciating the appearance of the King, whose clothes were torn, and his left sleeve was even stained with blood, d'Artagnan said to Fouquet:
“It seems to me that His Majesty is chilly.” Would you mind borrowing your coat, Mr. Superintendent?
Fouquet immediately took off his luxurious frock coat, which he handed to the King with a bow. Louis, it seemed, at first did not understand what was happening, however, realizing that his appearance could not be called royal, he coldly accepted the frock coat, showered with diamonds, casually threw it on himself and quickly left the cell. D'Artagnan and Fouquet followed him.
Approaching one of the branches of the corridor, the King hesitated.
“Allow me, Your Majesty, for your safety to go ahead,” d’Artagnan said softly. The now calmed King nodded favorably and let the captain go ahead.
D'Artagnan led the King and Fouquet the same way they had come to the cell, so that their path ran through Bezmo's study. In one motion, the captain took away the order for the arrest of Fouquet, which also disappeared into his deep pocket. Just as quickly, he took from the table a purse of gold that Fouquet had left on the commandant’s desk. After that, he pulled out of his pocket a metallic-colored cloth mask that covered the entire face of the person wearing it.
“Allow me to offer Your Majesty this mask,” he said to the King. “These people have no business witnessing your outcome.”
The king nodded and put on his mask.
Seeing the King in a mask and in Fouquet's frock coat, from the respect that Fouquet and d'Artagnan showed him, the guards unmistakably determined that in front of them was a noble person. The soldiers bowed respectfully before the marchers, rightly judging that such respect would not harm the cause.
Coming out of the gates of the Bastille, d'Artagnan threw the major a bunch of keys and a wallet, saying as he walked:
— Cell number nine, release in half an hour.
The major nodded in agreement, realizing that a man like d'Artagnan gives such laconic orders only when he has the right to do so. In addition, the major believed that d'Artagnan's order would be confirmed by Bezmo, who this time, for an unknown reason, did not come out to accompany the captain of the musketeers to the gate. In the courtyard stood Fouquet's carriage, to which d'Artagnan's horse was tied behind.
D'Artagnan opened the door of Fouquet's carriage in front of the King. The King, looking at Fouquet, hesitated only a few seconds, after which he resolutely entered the carriage and settled into it with all possible comfort. Following him, d'Artagnan and Fouquet entered there.
Sitting next to d'Artagnan, the King felt completely safe. At that moment his arrogance returned to him, he again felt like the King of France.
“So, sir, have you come to your senses and abandoned your plot?” - he said to Fouquet. - But on what basis do you expect forgiveness?
“Your Majesty,” objected Fouquet, “I am not involved in the conspiracy!” As soon as I learned about it, I hastened here to rescue you from this terrible place.
The king turned to d'Artagnan:
-Can he be trusted? - He asked the captain of the musketeers incredulously, as if Fouquet were not there.
“Your Majesty can completely trust the words of Mr. Superintendent.” - answered d'Artagnan. “Only with his help did I manage to get to you in order to rescue you from the situation into which the conspirators plunged you.”
- Could you have done it without his help? - the King asked incredulously.
“The Commandant of the Bastille, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, performs his duty extremely zealously. Being deceived, he would not even allow me to do what was absolutely necessary to do. Mr. Fouquet's help could not have come at a more opportune time.
Fouquet blushed, remembering his helplessness and the unsightly role he had to play.
“Well, if so, I am grateful to you, Fouquet,” the King said reluctantly. -Where are we going?
“ I suggest that Your Majesty go to the castle of Vaud to expose the impostor,” answered d’Artagnan.
— To the castle in Vaud? - The King was horrified. - To this nest of rebels and conspirators?
“There were only two conspirators, and at the moment they are far from the castle of Vaud. “Your brother reigned in the castle…” answered d’Artagnan.
- Duke of Orleans? - exclaimed the King, interrupting d'Artagnan.
“The Duke of Orleans is faithful to you, Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan. - Your other brother...
- I don’t have another brother! - the King interrupted again. “Are you talking about some cousin?”
“You have a twin brother, about whom Your Majesty did not know.” “He’s like two peas in a pod,” said d’Artagnan. — He spent his whole life in the Bastille.
“In the very cell in which...” said Fouquet, but, catching d’Artagnan’s sharp and cold gaze, he stopped short and fell silent.
“You are slandering my mother, d’Artagnan,” the King objected dispassionately.
“Your Majesty will soon see the proof of my words with his own eyes.” — the captain of the musketeers answered calmly.
“Before I see anything, I want to know everything,” objected the King. “We will proceed from the fact that you told the truth, although I still don’t believe you, but after seeing the evidence, I will believe you.” Speak.
“I can only state my guesses,” said the musketeer, “while M. Fouquet, apparently, received more detailed information about this matter.”
The king again looked at Fouquet with hatred.
- How did you get this information, Fouquet? - asked the King.
“One of the conspirators told me about this. - Fouquet replied.
- Is he arrested? There were two of them, you say. Their names? Which prison are they currently in? - demanded the King. - However, more on that later. First tell me the whole story in order.
Fouquet explained to the King in detail everything he knew about this matter, while the King listened in disbelief, and d'Artagnan noted those details that he could not guess. However, there were not many such details, for which he congratulated himself.
“So, sir,” said the King, when Fouquet finished his story, keeping silent only about how long he was not allowed into the Bastille, and what an unenviable role he played in finally getting to the King’s cell, “you haven’t seen with your own eyes of the so-called double, but at the same time you assure that he looks like me like two peas in a pod?
“Your Majesty, I saw him,” said d’Artagnan. - The resemblance is amazing!
- What insolence! - exclaimed the King.
“Unheard of impudence,” agreed d’Artagnan. - Insolence, forgivable only to the prince of the blood, the brother of the King.
- Which is what he is. - Fouquet again inserted a phrase at random, realizing belatedly that it would be better to remain silent.
The further journey passed in almost complete silence. Fouquet understood that today was not his day, since every new phrase only irritated the King. The king was plunged into heavy thought about what he had to do to expose the impostor, and also reflected on how to deal with this impostor, who was probably really the prince of the blood and his own brother. D'Artagnan congratulated himself on his foresight and on the fact that he had honestly fulfilled his duty, and also reflected on what fate now threatened his dear friends Aramis and Porthos.
When the carriage approached the castle of Vaud, Fouquet was the first to jump out of it and open the doors for the king.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the King before getting out of the carriage. -Did you keep the paper I gave you yesterday?
“Yes, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan with a bow.
“Well, in that case...” answered the King. “Be that as it may, I had an unforgettable experience from this adventure.”
And he looked tenderly at Fouquet.
“Be that as it may, it was just an amazing watch.” You, Fouquet, have outdone yourself. I could confidently sum up the last few days. Yes, unforgettable!
“Your Majesty is too kind to me,” Fouquet replied with embarrassment, confident that after his participation in saving Louis he was completely forgiven.
— I appreciated your efforts, Mr. Fouquet. - continued the King. — The holiday was a great success! Do you agree, Monsieur d'Artagnan? Do you agree that the holiday was a great success?
“Your assessment is extremely accurate, Your Majesty, and I do not dare argue with it,” d’Artagnan bowed again. — I heard your assessment and took it into account. The holiday was a great success, Your Majesty.

XIX. Castling

As soon as the King left the carriage, Fouquet was about to call a retinue worthy of receiving the King, however, d'Artagnan stopped him.
- What are you going to do, Monsieur Fouquet? - he asked.
- To provide the King with a worthy reception, the dignity of which begins with the corresponding retinue greeting His Majesty immediately upon leaving the carriage! - Fouquet answered with bewilderment.
“Just a minute,” the captain of the musketeers stopped him, and then turned to the King. “Your Majesty, it seems to me that we are not seeing any fuss that would inevitably arise if the King of France suddenly disappeared and his disappearance were discovered, is it?”
-What does this mean, d'Artagnan? - exclaimed the King. He did not show anger only because he had already had many occasions to make sure that, firstly, d'Artagnan is his faithful servant, secondly, he never gives stupid advice, and thirdly, he does not commit thoughtless actions.
“No guards, no panic, no signs of concern,” continued d’Artagnan. “This should convince you, Your Majesty, that what we are telling you is not fiction, but the truth.” Instead of Your Majesty, your place is taken by an impostor who resembles you so much that no one was alarmed.
“The sooner we must end this!” - exclaimed the King.
“If Your Majesty’s goal is to make this whole story public…” muttered d’Artagnan .
The King and Fouquet shuddered at the same time. Fouquet looked at d'Artagnan in admiration, and the King looked at him in bewilderment.
“The attackers kidnapped Your Majesty and replaced him with an impostor so that only they knew about it. We must do the same in the opposite direction and in the same way,” said d’Artagnan simply. - Monsieur Fouquet, I believe there is a way to enter your castle without attracting the attention of the servants and inhabitants of this castle? I assume there are also rooms where we could wait until the middle of the night?
“Let’s go,” Fouquet said decisively.
“Your Majesty, please put on your mask for a few more minutes,” said d’Artagnan.
The king hastily put on his mask and followed Fouquet.
“You help us a lot, Monsieur Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan. - Without you, we would not have solved this difficult problem, Mr. Superintendent! Be that as it may, the situation is still complex, and I will even allow myself to express the seditious thought that His Majesty’s program of stay at Vaud Castle has not yet come to an end, which means that it is too early to draw conclusions about How was this holiday? To be completely honest with you, Mr. Fouquet, at the risk of displeasing His Majesty, I dare to express my own opinion about everything that is happening. It seems to me, Mr. Fouquet, that the King flattered you by saying that the holiday was a great success. So, do with me what you want, Your Majesty, but it seems to me that the time has not yet come for such conclusions. Nothing yet indicates that the holiday was a success; I might doubt it until events came to a happy ending. Therefore, I declare that the holiday was by no means a success, Your Majesty.
Fouquet, not understanding what was happening, looked at d'Artagnan in bewilderment, and then said:
- Incomprehensible! As soon as I managed to justify myself to the King and, as I hope, restore my good name, how are you trying to quarrel between me and him?
“Fouquet, the captain stands up for you,” the King laughed. - Believe me, this is really true!
Fouquet was even more surprised, but d'Artagnan added:
“The current day will leave not very pleasant memories in His Majesty’s memory,” he said hastily. “Therefore, His Majesty hopes that after the misunderstanding has been resolved, he will stay with you for some time, so that you can have the opportunity to demonstrate all the good surprises that you have prepared for the King and his retinue.” You will have the opportunity to smooth out the impression that His Majesty had, so that he no longer considers you an insufficiently hospitable host. Therefore, we cannot consider the holiday over. And if so, then the phrase that the holiday was a great success is somewhat premature, because the holiday is not over yet!
“If your words, Mister Captain, had exactly the meaning that you reported, I am grateful to you for this idea, and I hope that His Majesty will indeed give me the opportunity to justify myself not in words, but in deeds, embracing His Majesty even more.” for a few days with all the care that I could show to the best of my ability.
“ That’s exactly it, Mister Fouquet,” answered the King. “Don’t look for any hidden meaning behind the captain’s words.” He explained his words perfectly and I agree with him.
“So the King has canceled the order for Fouquet’s arrest, ” thought d’Artagnan, “or at least postponed it.”
“Well, we can wait a little while arresting this scoundrel,” thought the King. “The captain is right, I still need Fouquet.”
“Apparently, d’Artagnan is not as smart as I thought,” Fouquet decided. — Arguing with the King over such trifles as the assessment of a holiday? For what? I never argue with the King, and even then I found myself out of favor! No, he will never make a courtier. And this is to my advantage, because I get an additional opportunity to achieve the King’s favor, and for this I did not have to argue with His Majesty!”
When the King, accompanied by Fouquet and d'Artagnan, having walked along a hidden path arranged in the form of a labyrinth of hedges, entering through a secret door, found himself in a luxuriously furnished room with upholstered furniture, among which there was a cabinet with all kinds of drinks, candied fruits and biscuits , he furiously attacked these dishes, because he felt an irresistible hunger. In fact, the severe shock that he experienced during these 24 hours took away all feeling of hunger from him, but now that his faithful captain of the musketeers was nearby, pride, self-confidence and calmness finally returned to him.
- I must leave you, Your Majesty. “I need to understand the secret mechanisms that made it possible to commit last night’s daring sacrilege,” said d’Artagnan.
- Do not leave! - exclaimed the King.
“I will return immediately,” replied the captain, “should I take Monsieur Fouquet with me, or do you prefer his company?”
“Go,” answered the King, ashamed of his fears. “We will play a game of chess with M. Fouquet,” he added, noticing in the corner a chess table inlaid with malachite and mother-of-pearl, on which stood chess pieces made of black and white opal.
The king had not yet finished his game with Fouquet, who was so absent-minded that he almost allowed himself to win the game, when d'Artagnan entered the room.
- Everything is fine, Your Majesty! - he said. — The impostor will soon fall asleep. I told Hubert to add a large dose of sleeping pills to the tea.
“Do you mean to say, captain, that you can, without the King’s instructions, order the addition of sleeping pills to his evening drink, and your order will be carried out?” - cried the King. “After all, this way you could easily do what these vile conspirators did!”
“To have the opportunity to do something and to do it, Your Majesty, is not the same thing,” the Gascon answered calmly.
“What a man this is! - thought the King. “I think I underestimated him!”
“A good-for-nothing courtier,” thought Fouquet. “Informing the King that you have the opportunity to kidnap him is the same as signing your own death warrant!”
“I almost won the game,” d’Artagnan thought with contempt about Fouquet, stealing a glance at the chess table. “This man’s pride overcomes his reason.” He's doomed. Whether they tell me to arrest him today, or tomorrow, or in a week, it makes no difference. This person should not be near the King, because with his actions he constantly buries himself in a way that no envious person or courtier would bury him. It's as if he signed a cooperation agreement with his mortal enemy Colbert."
At the same time, d'Artagnan seemed to inadvertently touch one of the legs of the chess table so that it fell and the pieces rolled on the carpet.
- Your Majesty! Forgive me for my awkwardness! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “I scattered the pieces and didn’t give you the opportunity to finish the game!”
“It’s okay,” the King answered with undisguised joy. “The game was coming to an end, we were looking at a draw, and this game didn’t interest me much anymore.
“It seemed to me that His Majesty was winning,” objected Fouquet, who finally realized that winning against the King was not entirely reasonable.
“My victory or a draw, it’s essentially not that important,” the King said imposingly, completely flattered. “I don’t insist on my victory.” Let's assume, Mr. Fouquet, that the game ended in a draw.
Fouquet did not answer, but only bowed deeply.
- Let's go, gentlemen! - said d'Artagnan meanwhile. “Your Majesty does not have to wear a mask, since I have ordered that all the corridors through which we will pass be free.”
The king threw the mask onto the table with hatred, and d'Artagnan picked it up and hid it in his pocket.
Having led the King and Fouquet through the corridors as deftly as if it were his own home, d'Artagnan finally led them to the door of one of the rooms, which he opened and invited them to enter.
- Where are we? - asked the King.
“This is the room of Monsieur d’Herblay, Bishop of Vannes,” answered Fouquet.
D'Artagnan looked dryly at Fouquet. At that moment he regretted that he had not carried out the King’s order to arrest Fouquet immediately. But it was already too late.
— Is this the name of one of the conspirators? - the King asked sharply.
Fouquet was ready to bite off his tongue and swallow it.
- Answer, Fouquet! - exclaimed the King.
“I promise Your Majesty to conduct a thorough investigation of this crime immediately after we have eliminated its consequences.”
- After all, you said that you learned this whole story from one of the conspirators! Therefore, you know their names! Speak up immediately! - demanded the King.
“I don’t dare lie to Your Majesty,” Fouquet replied. — One of the kidnappers is the Bishop of Vannes.
- This is one of your three friends, d'Artagnan? - the King did not let up.
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” replied d’Artagnan, “but even if you order me to arrest my own brother, I will arrest him immediately.”
- Fine! — the King calmed down.
- You have a brother? - Fouquet asked in a whisper.
“No,” d’Artagnan whispered in response and winked at Fouquet. “Having brothers is extremely dangerous.”
“But in this case, what you said makes no sense,” Fouquet whispered in response.
To this, d'Artagnan just shrugged, tilted his head to the right and winked with his other eye.
- What are we doing in this room? - Asked the King.
“Sit down, Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan. — Now you will see one of the performances prepared at the Chateau de Vaud, to which Mr. Fouquet has nothing to do.
With these words, d'Artagnan walked up to the icon depicting the Mother of God, pressed some kind of spring from below, after which the icon opened like a closet door. Behind this door was a large wheel, reminiscent of a carriage wheel. D'Artagnan tried to turn it to the left, but it did not budge, so he began to rotate it to the right. At that same moment, part of the ceiling began to open, and a platform the size of a large bed gradually began to descend from the ceiling. When this platform sank lower, it became clear that this was the bed - the bed of His Majesty the King of France.
A man was sleeping serenely on the bed in the King's pajamas and under a blanket that belonged to the King. Louis jumped up and ran to the bed. As soon as he looked into the face of the sleeping man, he froze in horror. He saw himself on the bed!
Fouquet was as surprised and frightened as Louis. Only d'Artagnan remained serene and continued to turn the wheel until the bed dropped to floor level.
“Monsieur Superintendent,” said d’Artagnan quietly, “would you help me carry this young man to that bed?”
- Wait! - exclaimed the King, and although he spoke in a whisper, his intonation shouted. - I want to look at it!
And he began to carefully examine the sleeping young man. This gave time for other participants in the scene to look at him.
“This is really his twin brother,” thought Fouquet. - Monsieur d'Herblay was absolutely right! The two of them are two incarnations of the same person, there is no doubt about that. His blood is as royal as Louis' blood! Replacing one with another is not a crime. This is no more serious crime than what was committed against this unfortunate prince! D'Herblay declared himself to be the executor of God's will, and I was a complete ass when I did not believe him and did not agree with him! In matters of God's will, Mr. Bishop is much more competent than me! My God, what have I done! I destroyed the good plans of a great man, which had already been brought to life, not to mention the fact that I destroyed this great man! And it is little consolation to me that this allowed me to reconcile with the King. This other has no less right to the throne than Louis. My God! Why did you open my eyes only now, when it’s too late to fix anything?”
“That’s enough,” Louis said coldly. - D'Artagnan, pen and paper!
D'Artagnan went to the table that Aramis had set up next to his bed and, as he expected, found on it everything he needed for writing.
“I hope there are no rhymes left here from our musketeer abbot? - he thought, - Some sheets of paper with notes! Of course, he didn’t think that he would have to make a hasty escape!”
D'Artagnan, with an imperceptible movement, hid Aramis's papers behind the cuff of his jacket and, putting several blank sheets of paper, a pen and an inkwell on a tray, presented it all to the King.
Louis, almost without thinking, began hastily writing the order. Having signed a sweeping signature at the end, he carefully read the document again, after which he folded it in half and handed it to d’Artagnan with the words:
- Do it immediately after you lift me on this bed to my bedroom.
Then he looked at Fouquet and said to him:
“I’m returning your coat to you, Mr. Superintendent.” See you tomorrow. I'm still your guest.
With these words, the King threw himself onto his bed, wearing shoes and a torn shirt, the left sleeve of which was stained with blood. After that, he made an upward sign with his hand, meaning an order to the captain of the musketeers to raise the bed up.
The captain began to slowly rotate the wheel in the opposite direction, the bed began to rise smoothly, taking Louis with it. As soon as the bed rose to its original place and the ceiling closed, d'Artagnan pulled out a small dagger from his boot and began to do something with it behind the wheel axle. There was a small click, after which the captain of the musketeers easily removed the wheel from its axle. Then he returned the icon to its original place.
“I believe that the Holy Mother of God will forgive me that I will take this part of her property with me,” he said to Fouquet, pointing to the wheel. I ask you to help me carry the Prince into your carriage. By the way, would you lend it to me?
- But carry it across the entire castle? - Fouquet was surprised. - Is this reasonable?
“You underestimate the Bishop of Vannes,” d’Artagnan grinned. “You won’t have to carry it far.”
With these words, he approached one of the walls, groped with his hand along the edges of the icon depicting St. Bartholomew, after which this icon also opened. Behind it was a lever, which d'Artagnan pulled down, after which an extremely cleverly hidden door opened in the wall, leading outside.
- This is my carriage! - exclaimed Fouquet. - How did she end up here?
“While some people move opal figurines around the table,” d’Artagnan answered cheerfully, “other people move something more significant.” Help me carry the prince!
- Indeed! - Fouquet caught himself. - But where will you take him?
“Where it is indicated on this paper,” d’Artagnan patted his pocket.
- Really back to the Bastille! - Fouquet was horrified.
“It is fortunate for you, Monsieur Fouquet, that it is not your duty to know where I will take him,” replied d’Artagnan, comfortably placing Philippe in the carriage with the help of velvet-upholstered pillows. After this, he put a mask on the sleeping prince, which the king threw on the table when they entered Fouquet's office.
“After all, the unfortunate young man has already spent almost his entire life in prison!” - Fouquet did not let up. - After all, he is the Prince of Blood!
“You should have thought about this either a little earlier, or never,” answered d’Artagnan. “Your thoughts are extremely correct in their depth, Mr. Superintendent, but regarding the time of their expression, I would not say the same.”
“If you call me an ass, Mister Captain, I won’t even be offended,” Fouquet said wearily.
“I never advise anyone to say anything bad about themselves,” d’Artagnan answered cheerfully. - At least as long as the world is full of kind people who will happily do this work for you. They will easily say a whole box of nasty things about you, and they will find much more expressive words for this! Would you be so kind as to send one of my musketeers here? And tell me to feed my horse, I will need it tomorrow.
With these words, d'Artagnan got into the carriage and locked the doors from the inside.
A minute later, one of the musketeers approached the carriage.
“Chamonix, my dear, today you have to fulfill the role of coachman, but rest assured, you are carrying out the secret and most important order of the King, this one!” - With these words, the captain patted his pocket. “We’re going to the Bastille without stopping.”
And Fouquet’s carriage rushed to Paris, to the Bastille, for the second time that day.

XX. Commandant of the Bastille

As soon as the carriage drove up to the gates of the Bastille, d'Artagnan cheerfully jumped out of it and turned to the musketeer, who played the role of coachman.
“Chamonix, you are responsible for this prisoner with your head.” He's sleeping, and I don't think he'll wake up, but don't let anyone near the carriage until I return.
This order was rather strange, considering that there was no one nearby, and the captain of the musketeers only moved ten steps away from the carriage to knock on the gate.
- Open, the King's order! - he exclaimed.
The gate at the gate opened slightly, d'Artagnan showed the guard the order, after which the gate opened extremely quickly. D'Artagnan waved his hand to the musketeer, who again climbed into the coachman's place and the carriage drove into the courtyard, after which the gates closed just as quickly.
- Keep guard, don’t peek, don’t let anyone in or let anyone out! - d'Artagnan ordered sharply, after which two guards stood at attention at each door of the carriage.
- Major, check! - d'Artagnan abruptly ordered the major and, without even monitoring how his order was carried out, headed to Bezmo's office.
Opening the doors to Bezmo's office, d'Artagnan quickly entered him.
Bezmo stared at d'Artagnan as if he were a ghost.
- You, captain?! - he exclaimed. - After everything you've done? How dare you?
- Calm down, my dear! - D'Artagnan objected. - Read this.
And he put a sheet of paper on the table.
- Order from the King? - Bezmo was surprised. - Another one?
“You are popular, dear Monsieur de Bezmeaux!” - D'Artagnan grinned. “The king remembered you for the second time this day.” I'll bet two pistols that you'll get a promotion.
“But it’s written here,” Bezmo stammered, “it seems to be written here that I unquestioningly obey you in everything, Monsieur d’Artagnan!”
Bezmo immediately jumped up and bowed to d'Artagnan.
“ Let’s not delay this,” the Gascon grinned. - Start obeying right now.
- Of course, Mister Captain of the Royal Musketeers! - Bezmo agreed. “But let me ask, why did you lock me up?”
- Does this paper say that you can ask me questions, and I must answer them? - D'Artagnan asked coldly.
“Sorry, sorry, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” Bezmo hastened to answer, “I’m not asking any questions.”
- And I don’t give any answers. That's wonderful! - D'Artagnan agreed. “However, out of friendship, I will explain the whole situation to you.” The king wanted to look at the prisoner Marchiali in order to be convinced of the features of his appearance known to you. However, it would be better if you did not know these very features of it.
“Well, I don’t know anything, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said Bezmeaux, “who knows what appearance?” Although, of course, everyone has the right to appearance, but on the condition that this appearance is such an appearance that...
- Enough, de Bezmo! - said d'Artagnan coldly, - His Majesty ordered the prisoner Marchiali to be brought to me personally, accompanied personally by Fouquet. Mister Fouquet also decided to check how well you are fulfilling your duties; didn’t he tell you about this at the end of his inspection?
- I remember that he said something like that! - Bezmo stammered.
“And at the end of the test, we decided to check how faithfully you serve the King.” Will you be able to arrest Fouquet himself? - said d'Artagnan. “And you demonstrated exemplary obedience.” You arrested Mr. Prosecutor General without blinking an eye. It is commendable!
“I will arrest the prince of the blood too, if the King orders it!” - Bezmo shouted enthusiastically.
“And this is also commendable, but let’s not go beyond the bounds of reason.” “No such order is expected,” replied the Gascon. - On this score you can be completely calm. I return your Marchiali to you with one additional instruction.
“I’m listening to you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” replied Bezmo.
“He’s wearing a mask now.” It's made of fabric.
- Understand! - Bezmo picked up.
- It is not necessary to understand, but it is necessary to perform. So he's wearing a mask. He must wear this mask in all cases when any person even just approaches his door. None of your servants, including yourself, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, should henceforth see this man without a mask.
- And me too? I understand, Monsieur d'Artagnan.
- Understand…
- Yes, yes, you don’t have to understand!
- And even harmful to health. If anyone ever violates this order, for disobedience, this time would not be a bad thing to understand! You will be punished for disobedience.
- Yes, I understand!
- That’s wonderful! I would not like to say out loud what awaits you or anyone who dares to look at the face of prisoner Marciali.
“This is the third person in one day threatening me with the death penalty,” thought Bezmo. - Maybe it's time for me to change jobs? However, no one is yet saying that this threat will be carried out!”
- Nobody will see him. Never. Believe me, Monsieur d'Artagnan.
- I believe you. Further. If you receive an order to transfer this person to another fortress, you must ensure that no one sees his face.
“He will wear this rag mask in case of any movement,” Bezmo agreed.
- Rag? - exclaimed d'Artagnan. — Do you consider this a guarantee?
- But how else can we provide a guarantee? - asked the discouraged Bezmo.
“Anyone can rip off a rag mask.” In the event of any transfer, you will first personally put on this prisoner such a mask that it will be impossible for him, his accomplices, or his enemies to remove it. In other words, no one. A mask that cannot be removed.
- What kind of mask is this that cannot be removed? - Bezmo asked with a trembling voice.
“The iron mask,” answered d’Artagnan. - And nothing else. Receive the prisoner.
With these words, he turned sharply on his heel and left Bezmo’s office.
Stunned, Bezmo whispered in horror:
- Iron mask...

After the prisoner was placed in the cell from which he was extracted by the will of Aramis, d'Artagnan returned to the carriage and ordered Chamonix to take him back to the castle of Vaud.
Meanwhile, Bezmo had already explained to his people that Fouquet had previously come to them with an inspection.
This news caused horror in the guard, who sold Fouquet the right to use pen and paper for half a million. He immediately ran to Bezmo, who immediately jumped out of the gate and shouted to d'Artagnan:
- Wait! Monsieur d'Artagnan! Wait!
- What else is there? - asked d'Artagnan, who was about to take a short nap for the first time in two days.
“Could you return M. Fouquet’s ring?” He accidentally dropped it in the guardhouse! This is the ring! - With these words, Bezmo showed d'Artagnan a ring with a huge diamond.
- Did you drop it? - D'Artagnan asked skeptically. - Accidentally? So-so.
“Inexplicably he dropped it,” Bezmo muttered embarrassedly, breaking out in sweat.
“In that case, save it for Monsieur Fouquet, whom I will probably bring to you again soon,” answered d’Artagnan. “You will have the opportunity to personally explain to him the circumstances under which he dropped this ring.”
— Will he come with a new inspection? But when will this be? — Bezmo asked in bewilderment.
- Questions? - D'Artagnan answered sharply.
“No questions, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” Bezmo realized.
- He will return, you can rest assured. But not for the ring.
“I understand, Monsieur d’Artagnan ,” Bezmo agreed. - On behalf of the King.
- And nothing else, Monsieur de Bezmeaux. But do not forget that orders in France concerning your prisoners come only from the King.
With these words d'Artagnan jumped into the carriage and shouted again:
- In the name of the King and only with his own signature, Monsieur de Bezmo! And nothing else!
A minute later the carriage was already rushing towards the castle of Vaud, and the captain of the musketeers was sleeping soundly, perfectly ensconced on Mr. Fouquet's velvet pillows.
Rising to his office, Bezmo, incredibly tired from the ups and downs of the last three days, said several more times in bewilderment:
— Iron mask.


XXI. The king arranges an interrogation

The next morning, d'Artagnan, passing by the stables, ordered that his horse be cleaned and ready for a long ride. After that, he looked into the room where the musketeer sergeant was.
- D'Arlencourt, my dear! Twenty men must be ready in forty minutes to head out on a long pursuit. Sergeant, I trust you to form this detachment. Feed, provide camp provisions, gunpowder, bullets and all other camp equipment according to the regulations of military operations. - ordered the captain of the musketeers.
“It will be done, captain,” the sergeant answered clearly in a military manner.
- And keep in mind, we will be in a hurry! - added d'Artagnan. — Urgent order from the King.
- May I ask, captain? - the sergeant hesitated. — If the order is urgent, why don’t you leave immediately?
“Because this order has not yet arrived,” d’Artagnan smiled. “I intend to re-inspect the island fortress of Belle-Ile.” I'm not in any rush at the moment about this trip, but in thirty-nine minutes I'll be in a terrible hurry. Every musketeer who lags behind me by at least three minutes will be considered a deserter.
After this, d'Artagnan lightly touched the bottom of the brim of his hat with two fingers of his right hand, in response to which the sergeant stood tall and clicked his heels.
Approaching the door of the royal bedroom, d'Artagnan greeted the footman, after which he asked:
“Hubert, my dear, is the King awake yet?” Is he alone?
“His Majesty has summoned M. Fouquet,” answered the footman.
- Already? - D'Artagnan nodded and looked at the wall clock. - How long?
“Five minutes, Mister Captain,” replied Hubert.
D'Artagnan nodded and sat down on a leather chair, crossing his legs and twirling his right mustache with his left hand. If Athos, Porthos or Aramis had seen him in this pose, they would have noted that d'Artagnan was noticeably nervous, but if Planchet had seen him, he would have said that his former master was preparing for a decisive leap into the dizzying unknown and was considering every move .
Meanwhile, Louis summoned Fouquet to finally clarify the names of all the conspirators and their location.
“ Monsieur Fouquet,” he began, after the usual ceremonies with which Fouquet paid respect to his King. “I invited you to a conversation because I want to know the names of all the conspirators responsible for the events of the past day.
“Your Majesty, they repented, and I ask you to forgive them,” Fouquet answered with a bow, completely depriving himself of the possibility of salvation.
“Am I asking you whether they repented or not?” - the King objected coldly. “Besides, I didn’t ask you for advice on what to do with them!” I want to know the names of all the conspirators. Everyone, Fouquet. I already know the name of one. This is d'Herblay, Bishop of Vannes. The names of the others?
- In fact, he was alone. The other person he was using was misled and didn't realize he was part of a conspiracy. He was convinced that he was carrying out Your Majesty’s orders,” said Fouquet.
- You don’t hear me or don’t want to hear me, Fouquet! - the King exclaimed and stamped his foot angrily. “I’m not asking you about the reasons for these people’s actions.” I ask their names. So?
“Baron du Valon, Your Majesty,” said Fouquet quietly, who would rather fall into the ground than tell the King the names of people whom he thereby condemns to execution, or at best to eternal exile if they manage to hide outside France.
“This d’Herblay seems to be your friend,” said the King, and there was not a drop of questioning intonation in his tone, he simply stated it.
“He was my friend, Your Majesty,” answered Fouquet, in whose soul there was a fierce struggle between the duty of friendship and the duty of a loyal subject.
“It’s very unfortunate, Mr. Superintendent,” said the King coldly.
“In this friendship, Your Majesty, while I did not know about the impending crime, I did not see anything that dishonored me,” Fouquet replied.
“You should have foreseen this crime, Mr. former Prosecutor General,” said the King with emphasis on the word “former.”
Fouquet shuddered. He realized that the King had learned about the sale of the position of Attorney General to him from Colbert. And he felt that the King, talking to him, was relying on the logic of Colbert, for whom Fouquet was guilty of all the atrocities happening in France simply because he was Fouquet, that is, the very person whose existence interfered with the career growth of Colbert himself .
“Since the crime was committed by my former friend,” replied Fouquet, who also emphasized the word “former,” “and since it was committed in my former castle, I plead guilty and place myself in your hands, Your Majesty.”
“It’s good that you understand your guilt, Mr. Fouquet, but you forgot to mention one more reason,” the King said coldly. “First of all, you are guilty for the reason that I think so.”
Fouquet bowed silently.
“Mr. Fouquet, I may be ready to forgive you,” the King continued. “But by your denial you are depriving me of such an opportunity.” You are shielding your former friends, as you said, from which I am forced to see you as their accomplice. If you are truly outraged by this crime, you should contribute to the speedy arrest of all the conspirators, meanwhile, I heard only two names from you, while there should have been at least twenty conspirators!
“There were only two of them, Your Majesty, and there are simply no other names,” Fouquet said calmly. “The third criminal is me, who did not understand the intentions of the conspirators.
“You have so many friends, Monsieur Fouquet, and you also have brothers.” Did they all calmly look at your ruin, calmly watch as you lose your influence, and did nothing to save you? - the King was surprised. “And only two of them did anything to save you?” Are you asking me to believe these fables, Mr. Superintendent?
“I must not have interpreted the word “friends” quite correctly, Your Majesty,” Fouquet sighed sadly. “I really thought I was surrounded by friends.” And I did everything for them so that they would be happy and carefree next to me, or away from me. I enjoyed their company. Even now I am ready to give my life for any of them. But it never occurred to me to expect any of them to sacrifice their well-being or even their money for me.
“This understanding of friendship surprises me, Mister Superintendent,” the King admired. “You seem to be either a saint, or an extraordinary cunning man, or the rumors about your intelligence are too exaggerated.”
“ It’s not for me to judge this, Your Majesty, but I assure you, I’m not a saint,” Fouquet replied. “I know of several sins, which, however, are not a crime and if they are punished, it is not according to human laws, but according to God.
—Are you talking about the sin of acquisitiveness, Mr. Fouquet? - the King asked with a smile.
“I’m talking about adultery, Your Majesty,” Fouquet replied, referring to his own love affairs with some married ladies.
At these words the King blushed and his face became blotchy. He decided that Fouquet was hinting to him about a connection with Mademoiselle Lavaliere. He didn’t think about her for a whole day, because he was only concerned about his own fate. Fouquet's words wounded the King to the heart. It seemed to him that a red-hot dagger had been thrust into his heart and was being turned there to cause him even greater torment. The king immediately remembered that Fouquet had written an unacceptable letter to Mademoiselle Lavaliere, offering her friendship, and, apparently, something more. It was this letter that served as a quarrel between the King and La Valliere, and even probably led to the final break, which the King desired, and with which he could not come to terms. The culprit of all these troubles was Fouquet. Now that the King was no longer in danger of losing his throne and freedom, yesterday’s events seemed to him a painful dream that could easily be forgotten, while the break with La Valli;re, and even moreover, the King’s loss of faith in pure maiden love, made Fouquet the main culprit of all the King's misfortunes. Fouquet's fate was finally decided at that moment.
- So, Bishop of Vannes, Baron du Vallon, who else, speak quickly? - the King asked sharply.
“Your Majesty has already named the third and final criminal, it is me, Your Majesty,” Fouquet answered with sorrow in his voice.
- Nonsense! These two are d'Artagnan's friends! And friends of the Comte de La F;re! - exclaimed the King. - Wait a minute! This count has a son, and his name is Viscount de Bragelonne! This young man, it seems, flattered himself with the hope of marrying mademoiselle?.. Now we already know five names!
“Your Majesty, I beg you, don’t go that far!” - Fouquet exclaimed in horror. - Monsieur d'Artagnan opposed the conspiracy with all his might, weren't you convinced of this yourself yesterday?
“So be it,” said the King, calming down slightly. - I believe Captain d'Artagnan, he is an honest man.
“The same can be said about the Comte de La F;re, Your Majesty.” He is the noblest and most honest man in all of France. I beg you to limit the search to those whom I have named.
“It’s impossible that Bragelon wasn’t involved in this matter!” - the King stubbornly objected. “I understand his feelings too well not to understand his plans!” In the ambiguous situation in which he finds himself, he may be capable of any evil.
“He can only inflict any harm on himself, Your Majesty.” He will not take revenge on anyone, considering only himself guilty of the fact that... - Fouquet stopped short. He again said too much and realized it too late.
- Fine! - the King answered sharply. “It’s already clear to me that you will not tell me the names of all those guilty in this matter.” First we will catch and punish the main criminals, and then we will think about how to expose their accomplices.
- What does Your Majesty understand by this? - Fouquet asked in a depressed voice.
“What I mean by this,” replied the King, “is that, having burst into the fortress of Belle-Ile with our troops, into this nest of vipers, at the head of our troops, we will take possession of this hotbed of rebellion and carry out such a reprisal that will forever rid France of conspiracies.” coming from this place. The same will happen with this castle in Vaud. And none of it will be saved, do you hear? Nobody.
- Your Majesty order to kill my people?
“Your people should not be in my kingdom, Fouquet!” - the King answered sharply. “ Only my people should live in France.” Your people must be exterminated. Every single one of them.
- Oh, Your Majesty! - said Fouquet, falling to his knees. - Have mercy! They are not to blame for anything, only I am to blame!
At that moment the King began to tremble. He realized that he was still in the castle of Vaud, and, therefore, in the power of its owner, Fouquet. He revealed his plans too early, giving in to his feelings instead of building a conversation only on the basis of cool reason.
“You hastened to misinterpret my words, Monsieur Fouquet,” he said much more softly. — Exterminating dissent does not at all mean exterminating people! Now, these are no longer the times when execution was the only argument of the Kings. I agree with the last argument, but not the only one. No, thank God, we have other means! I have parliaments that judge in my name, prisons that hold prisoners, and not necessarily for life. But, of course, we also have scaffolds on which court sentences are carried out, but this is only a last resort, which is used when all other means are not effective enough.
Fouquet was still on his knees, pale and humiliated.
“I will take the liberty of noting, Your Majesty, that the trial of this crime will require publicity of those circumstances, which, fortunately, are still privy to an extremely narrow circle of people.”
The king thought with horror that the circle of these persons included d'Herblay and du Valon, as well as Fouquet himself. “These three, as well as the intriguing de Chevreuse, should be locked in a stone bag for life, or better yet destroyed,” the King decided, “and the rest can be dealt with later.”
“It is necessary, sir, that justice punish the guilty.” And those matters that cannot be dealt with by parliament are decided by the King himself. - Louis answered, in whose voice there were clearly metallic notes.
“I am ready to bear the well-deserved punishment, Your Majesty, but I beg you to have mercy on Monsieur d’Herblay and Monsieur du Vallon.”
“Are you asking me to pardon my murderers?” - exclaimed the King. - And after that you say that you were not among the conspirators?
“They are only rebels, Your Majesty,” Fouquet objected. “After all, they didn’t make an attempt on your life!”
- How do you know this, Fouquet? - exclaimed the King, as always, omitting the word "master" on those occasions when he was especially excited. — It turns out that they shared their plans with you?
“I just know my friends too well!” sighed Fouquet, deeply offended. “I know that they are not capable of such a crime.”
“You are confused, Fouquet, you contradict yourself.” You just said that you didn't know about your friends' plans. Therefore, no matter how well you knew them, your so-called friends, you still did not know at all what they were capable of. Now you claim that you know them so well that you can know exactly what they are capable of and what they are not capable of. You are confused, Fouquet!
“This is a disaster,” Fouquet thought in horror, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his forehead. - I'm really confused. Every word I say only harms me and my friends. It would have been better for me if D'Artagnan had arrested me two days ago. In this case, I was responsible only for my own destiny, and for no one else. From the abyss in which I now find myself, this state seems to me almost heavenly bliss!
“I want to remind Your Majesty that a few hours ago I restored your freedom and saved your life,” Fouquet said in despair, hoping to appease the King.
“So, you yourself admitted that the conspirators made an attempt not only on my freedom, but also on my life,” concluded the King.
At this moment Fouquet would like to strangle himself with his own hands.
“If Monsieur d’Herblay had decided to kill Your Majesty, he could have done it as soon as he kidnapped you and took you out of my castle,” Fouquet said in despair.
The king turned pale, imagining the danger to which he was exposed and which he escaped only by a miracle.
“If he had done this, it would have guaranteed him complete secrecy and complete impunity,” Fouquet continued. “After that, no one and nothing could return everything to its original state.” He did not encroach on the royal blood, and this, I believe, gives him the right to mercy on your part. So have mercy on him, Your Majesty, in the name of the fact that he did not encroach on your life!
Instead of admiring Aramis's generosity, as Fouquet had hoped, the King, on the contrary, felt deeply humiliated. He could not consider himself grateful for saving anyone's life. His indomitable pride was humiliated by the very thought that someone other than the Lord himself had power over his life, could cut the thread of royal life. Everything that Fouquet considered a strong argument for leniency and pardon for his errant friends fell as a heavy burden on the scales of the sins of these people in those scales of justice that governed the fickle feelings of the proud Louis XIV. Trying to appease the King, Fouquet added more and more arguments in favor of a death sentence for these people. They couldn't have found a worse lawyer.
“The fate of these conspirators has been decided once and for all, I ask you not to discuss it with me anymore,” said the King in a tone that brooked no objections. “You can only help them by helping to capture them as quickly as possible so that they do not have time to commit new crimes.” So where did they go? Are you aware of this?
“They are out of reach, Your Majesty,” Fouquet replied and felt relieved by this.
-Did you let them go? - exclaimed the King.
“I couldn’t detain them.” I advised Monsieur d'Herblay to retire to the castle of Belle-Isle.
—Have you provided your fortress to the conspirators? The fortress that you said you were strengthening for me, and which you gave me as a gift? Do you still call her yours?! — the King’s anger seemed to reach its highest point.
“I hope this will save their lives,” Fouquet said more to himself than to the King.
“And this man held the post of Prosecutor General of France!” - exclaimed the King.
“I am no longer the royal prosecutor, Your Majesty,” Fouquet said humbly.
- Go, Fouquet.

XXII. Porthos in pursuit of the ducal title

Aramis and Porthos, meanwhile, rode as hard as they could towards the island of Belle-Ile. The poor giant believed that he was galloping for the ducal title.
Several times Aramis tried to tell Porthos about the true reason for their haste, however, on reflection, he decided that if they were told that they were fleeing, our good hero would, of course, turn his horse around and ride with despair towards any danger, preferring to die in battle, rather than fleeing, regardless of the number of pursuers. The feeling of fear was unknown to Porthos. Therefore, in order for Porthos not to waste time on the trip, Aramis told him:
“Know that your dukedom depends on our speed.”
These words forced Porthos to drive his horse as anyone else would have driven in his place, if not only his life, but also eternal salvation depended on it.
“ I will become a duke,” cried Porthos, “and maybe even a peer!”
- Forward! - Aramis exclaimed, and the naive Porthos heard in these words confirmation of his assumptions.
Fortunately, under Porthos there was a very strong and hardy horse, since not every horse could withstand his weight, especially when the giant impatiently drove his spurs into his sides.
Unfortunately, they had to change horses, since none of the horses could gallop all day at the speed that the impatient riders demanded of them.
There was only one stage left to Blois.
“We’ll go see Athos,” Aramis told Porthos.
- Perfect! - exclaimed Porthos. - Let's hug both him and Raul!
“This is absolutely necessary,” agreed Aramis, who understood that another such opportunity might never present itself again.
“Are we bringing Athos some important proposal from His Majesty?” - asked Porthos, admiring his own intelligence.
“Something like that,” answered Aramis.
- Not a word more! - exclaimed the naive Porthos. - I'll guess for myself.
- Great, my friend! - Aramis nodded. - Guess!
The sound of hooves forced Raoul, who was sadly sitting by the window, to peer into the distance. He probably expected some kind of miracle, or he didn’t know what he was hoping for, but any travelers would have been a change of events for him, and since he was in a state of complete devastation, any change would have been, if not a joy to him, then certainly at least not harmful.
As soon as he recognized the travelers, he cried out with joy and hurried to meet them. A minute later, Raoul hugged Porthos to his chest, while Aramis and Athos also hugged and even kissed like an old man.
“We’re glad to see you, my friends,” said Athos. “Judging by the way you were in a hurry, your goal is somewhere further away.” I am all the more grateful to you for making the detour to see us. How much time do we have? - he asked, addressing only Aramis.
“There’s almost no time at all, my friend.” - Aramis answered.
The count looked at Grimaud, but from the response he realized that orders were unnecessary, since Grimaud had already ordered the table to be set.
“So, you’re in a hurry,” said Athos after the friends had already had a light snack and flavored their meal with a couple of glasses of Burgundy.
“We just stopped by to share our joy,” Porthos replied, continuing to grind the turkey leg with his powerful jaws as if it were a small lark.
- Well, congratulations Porthos! - Athos answered, taking a sip of lingonberry water. - Whatever the reason for your joy, I am sincerely happy for you.
With these words, Athos silently looked at Aramis, whose gloomy appearance told him that Porthos’s rosy mood had no basis. This caused another wrinkle to appear on Athos’s noble forehead.
- What kind of joy do you have? - Raoul asked, smiling, unaware of what Athos immediately guessed.
“The king bestows me with the ducal title,” Porthos mysteriously whispered in Raoul’s ear, while his whisper could be heard even in the next room.
“Dear Aramis, I have come across a curious icon about which I would like to know your opinion,” said Athos.
- Ah, icons! - Porthos muttered. “I prefer to get to know this capon and this Burgundy one better.”
Athos took the prelate by the arm, and they retired to the next hall.
- Are you being chased? - asked Athos.
“Of course,” Aramis replied.
- You need our support. “I’ll tell Grimaud to saddle the horses and put muskets, gunpowder, and bullets in the saddlebags,” Athos quickly answered, but Aramis held his hand.
- It's pointless, Count. This pursuit is not of the kind that your help would change anything in its outcome,” the bishop objected.
- In that case, what happened? - asked Athos.
“I plotted against the King, but it went wrong.” Porthos doesn’t know anything, but he helped me, so we are state criminals, and they are undoubtedly after us.
-Can you tell me the details? - Athos inquired.
“I can’t have secrets from you,” answered Aramis, after which he briefly told the story already known to readers.
Aramis had barely finished when Athos summed it up.
“It was a great plan, Aramis,” he said, “but also a great mistake.”
- For which I am severely punished, Athos.
“All four of us should have participated in this business, or we should have abandoned this business altogether,” continued Athos.
“I couldn’t count on your unconditional consent, Athos,” Aramis answered sadly. - With your consent and with the consent of d'Artagnan.
“This only means that you yourself understood that you had started a crime,” answered Athos. “But the job is done, and there’s nothing to talk about.” What do you plan to do next?
“I’m taking Porthos to Belle-Ile, and perhaps further, to Spain or England.”
“You lost an hour and a half to visit Raoul and me,” Athos noted. “It's crazy, but I'm grateful for it.” Hurry up!
- Porthos! We go! - Aramis exclaimed.
He hugged Athos tightly once more.
“Take care of yourself, Aramis, take care of Porthos,” said Athos. - May God bless you! Remember that you are always welcome guests here with me. You can use everything you need here.
“I know that, Count,” answered Aramis. - Finally, I would like to explain to you the reasons for my actions.
“There is no time for excuses, Aramis, and I justify you, if only because you are you, and your plans are your plans.” I believe your goal was to take revenge on the oppressor and restore the rights of the oppressed. You were ready to lay down your life for the rights of the prince of the blood, Aramis! I'm proud of you. Go! Fresh horses are ready.
“How long has he known me, and how poorly he understands me! - Aramis thought sadly, “he attributes extremely noble motives to me simply because he himself could act so decisively only under the influence of only such motives.”
The friends hugged one last time, after which Aramis and Porthos jumped into their saddles and disappeared towards the island-fortress of Belle-Ile.

XXIII. D'Artagnan in pursuit of Aramis and Porthos

D'Artagnan stopped twirling his right mustache and looked at the wall clock. He had been sitting in the King's reception room for half an hour. Fouquet came out of the door, looking as if he had been crushed by an excessive weight. Looking at d'Artagnan, he pulled his head even further into his shoulders and hurried to hide. The footman, hearing the ringing of the bell, entered the King, after which he almost immediately came out and turned to d'Artagnan:
- Mister Captain, His Majesty asks you to come to him.
D'Artagnan quickly stood up, straightened his sword belt and decisively stepped into the King's office.
“Sir, you must immediately go to the fortress island of Belle-Ile-en-Mer,” said the King. — This fortress previously belonged to Mr. Fouquet, but he gave it to me as a gift. Willingly or unwittingly, he did not notify some of the military leaders who remained in the fortress about this. Therefore, you must go to this fortress and take it under my hand. If you encounter resistance, you must crush it.
“I obey, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan. — How many people will go with me?
“You will take with you as many troops as you need,” replied the King. “You have no right to fail if the fortress offers resistance.” Even if the entire population resists you, the fortress must be mine, not a single person disobedient to my will should remain in it.
— How much time do I have to get ready? - asked d'Artagnan.
“You must leave immediately and move as quickly as possible,” replied the King. - At the same time, you must not miss the conspirators! You must arrest the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon. If they elude you, Mr. Captain, for the sole reason that you showed insufficient efficiency, I will consider you an accomplice in the conspiracy and a state criminal. If you follow my orders properly, you will receive a marshal's baton.
“It takes considerable time to gather and deliver to a fortress an army sufficient for a siege, and for a naval campaign your order is required.” Besides, expenses...” said d’Artagnan, but the King interrupted him.
“You will receive the relevant papers, as well as money, from Colbert in five minutes.” - he answered. - Regarding the time to get ready, act as you wish, but my order must be carried out.
After this, the King waved his hand, signaling that the reception was over.
As soon as he left the door of the King’s office, Colbert crept in with soft steps. Five minutes later he came out and handed d'Artagnan the king's order, in which all troops, land and sea, were to obey Monsieur d'Artagnan, captain of the royal musketeers, acting on the orders of the King of France and for the good of France.
“Congratulations, Mr. Captain,” said Colbert. - You are going for the baton of the Marshal of France! However, fulfilling the King's order will not be easy.
- Do you think so? - asked d'Artagnan.
“The Belle-Ile fortress is practically impregnable; it can only be attacked from the sea,” Colbert answered. “Besides, the fortress is controlled by your friends, whom you must arrest.” It is not so easy for people like you, Monsieur d'Artagnan, to transcend friendship. Are you ready to arrest your friends to succeed?
“ You seem to be asking me, Monsieur Colbert, am I ready to carry out the King’s orders?” - D'Artagnan asked calmly. “In other words, you are asking me whether I rightfully hold my position as captain of the royal musketeers?”
“I have not the slightest doubt that you will fulfill your duty, Mister Captain,” Colbert replied with a smile.
- Prepare the money for this order that you have in your hands. - D'Artagnan answered with a smile.
“You will receive the money from M. Fouquet,” Colbert replied.
- Great idea! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Fouquet must pay for an expedition against Fouquet's people.
“The warrant says nothing about the purpose of this advance,” Colbert said coldly. — Is there something that doesn’t suit you?
“Everything suits me, except the need for such a long communication with you, Mr. Colbert!” - answered the captain. “Another time I would be happy to discuss with you the duty of friendship and the concept of a soldier’s honor, but not today.” I hasten to carry out the King's orders.
With these words, d'Artagnan left to get Fouquet's money, while Colbert returned to the King's office.
The King's order, among other things, ordered d'Artagnan, in case of resistance, to blow up the Belle-Ile fortress to the ground, and to decide which of the rebellious inhabitants of the fortress should be executed and which should be pardoned; in addition, he was specifically ordered not to let a single soul out of the fortress, and also to arrest the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon.
“Colbert is right,” thought d’Artagnan. “I’m not the kind of person who would jump at the opportunity to get a marshal’s baton at the cost of the lives of my friends.” But I’m not one of those who voluntarily puts my head in a noose. Well, I must be there before others and assess the situation, after which we will see who will win this game of conscience with death.”
Returning to the room where the sergeant was waiting for him, d'Artagnan ordered:
- D'Arlencourt, I am leaving immediately for Belle-Ile, accompanied by twenty musketeers. Take a look at this order. You must gather an army sufficient to besiege the fortress and follow me. If you are not obeyed, contact Colbert and inform him of my order. He will give you the necessary credentials, but I have no time to do this. I'm leaving in five minutes.

XXIV. Belle-Ile-en-Mer

Aramis and Porthos, meanwhile, arrived at the fortress of Belle-Ile. Aramis believed that this fortress, fortified according to the drawings, had become virtually impregnable. Indeed, it could only be attacked from the sea, since the fortress was located on an island. But, as you know, the French troops were not very lucky in naval battles. If supported by England, this island-fortress could well become English, despite its proximity to the shores of France. Deftly balancing on the contradictions of the two countries, the sovereign who reigned here could eventually achieve independence from both powers between which he was located. By strengthening Belle-Ile, Fouquet essentially built his own small state, in which, in case of danger, he could escape even the persecution of such a powerful King as the King of France.
Since the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon were frequent guests in this fortress, and even partially the creators of it, the commandant of the fortress recognized them as friends of the superintendent of finance, Mr. Fouquet, and in his absence, in fact, as his representatives. Therefore, Aramis and Porthos felt themselves masters of Belle-Ile, especially since Fouquet provided Aramis with a corresponding letter instructing the commandant to accept the bishop of Vannes as Fouquet himself and to obey him in everything, including military matters.
Porthos was completely serene, while Aramis noticed the disappearance of any ships at sea. They disappeared, down to the last fishing boat. This indicated a hidden serious reason, and this reason, Aramis understood, could only be the King’s order to prohibit any ships from leaving the ports of France.
“Here we are already in isolation,” thought Aramis. “We should expect the arrival of warships, after which we will have the opportunity to test the strength of Belle-Ile’s fortifications, the range of its cannons and the accuracy of its artillerymen.”
He remembered how King Charles I, at Buckingham's request, had forbidden the sailing of any ships from all of England to prevent Milady from leaving England with the two diamond pendants stolen from Buckingham. This ban, of course, did not stop either Milady or the four friends carrying out Queen Anne's orders. Aramis was sad not because Louis XIV had announced a hunt for him and Porthos, which he had no doubt about. If there were not two, but four, then they would not be afraid of the King’s wrath. The four of them opposed both Richelieu and Mazarin, and these people were both smarter and more experienced than the young King!
- Listen, Aramis! - Porthos said suddenly. — Don’t you think that the sea looks somehow unusual?
- Too calm? - Aramis asked absently.
- Not in this case! - Porthos objected. “I look at him and can’t figure out what exactly is unusual about him, but I’m ready to swear that there’s something wrong with him!”
— Are the seagulls loud enough? - Aramis smiled.
- No, that’s not it! “Seagulls always scream when they see fishermen,” Porthos said doubtfully. - Wait a minute! Where are all the fishermen? I don't see a single boat!
“There probably aren’t enough fish in the sea today,” Aramis replied in an indifferent tone.
“I don’t see a connection between the number of fish in the sea and the number of boats with fishermen,” Porthos shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.
- What do you order the fishermen to do in the sea where there are no fish? - Aramis scoffed.
“That’s it,” said Porthos. - You seem to be right, fishermen catch fish, and if the fish ran out, they swam to where the fish were still left.
- Do you see, Porthos, how simple it is? - Aramis smiled.
- Where are all the other ships then? - Porthos asked five minutes later.
-What do you mean, Porthos? - asked the prelate.
- Well, there are not only fishing ships. - du Valon said uncertainly. — Merchants, customs, military, finally?
- Why do you need all this? - Aramis continued.
- You have to look at something when you walk by the sea! - Porthos was surprised. “Otherwise, what’s the point of such a walk?”
“Breathe the fresh sea air and admire the waves, the seagulls...” Aramis answered absentmindedly, stubbornly peering into the distance.
“But that’s not what’s strange,” Porthos continued. “Those two sailing ships that I sent to the mainland for beef, pork and other foodstuffs, they didn’t return either, but it’s time for at least one of them to come back!”
Aramis suddenly screamed and stopped dead in his tracks.
- Repeat, Porthos, what did you say? You sent both of our sailboats to the mainland?!
“You know, Aramis, I can’t eat fish and chicken all the time, I want something more substantial,” Porthos answered innocently. “Besides, you yourself just said that the fish is over!” Do you see how prudent I am? Soon real food will be brought here so that we can at least eat like humans, if we have to hang around on this damned island, where I’m just languishing with boredom!
- Unhappy! You should at least consult me! They would have left at least one sailboat! What have you done, my God! - exclaimed the bishop. “We have no choice, we won’t be able to sail to England or Spain.”
- And thank God! - Porthos answered. - I hate sea travel!
- We are dead! - said Aramis and burst out laughing. - Porthos wanted veal and pig! I will owe my death to your appetite!
- Are you dead? - Porthos was surprised. — Is there such a shortage of food here? Why such despondency, Aramis? At worst, fish and chicken will do, by God I’m not picky, if the circumstances are like this, just don’t worry about such trifles.
Aramis smiled sadly.
“I have planned a short walk along the sea today, but now it will have to be postponed indefinitely, dear Porthos,” answered Aramis. “Now we are trapped on this island.”
“This is just until our sailing ships return,” Porthos answered guiltily. “Not too long to wait, I suppose.”
“Dear Porthos,” he answered with a sigh, “it seemed to me that you were bored on this island, and one of these days I planned to leave it completely.”
“Aren’t we expecting some important order from the King that you keep telling me about?” - Porthos was surprised.
- Order? - Aramis asked in bewilderment. - Oh yes! Order. Of course, we are waiting for the order. But he will arrive soon.
- Damn it, he won’t arrive by air! Since we are on the island, it means that the King’s order will be brought by ship,” Porthos reasoned. “And this means that we will be able to leave the island on the very ship on which the King’s order will be brought to us!”
“Your logic is impeccable,” Aramis replied. “We can indeed sail back on the very ship that will bring us the King’s order.”
“With shackles on my legs and arms,” Aramis added mentally, “straight to the Bastille, or somewhere even worse!”
“If you’re really impatient to get back, you can get a shuttle.” There are shuttles here,” said Porthos. “I can get us a shuttle, I noticed one here recently.” It’s suitable for a boat trip, and it can even take us to the coast of France.
- Shuttle? To France? No, it’s a bad idea,” Aramis objected decisively. - in the wrong place and not on such a means!
Porthos shrugged and began to watch the seagulls, as Aramis had advised him.
- Porthos! - Aramis said suddenly sharply. “I must tell you something about our affairs in Vaud.”
- After all, you already told me everything! - the giant was surprised. - One impostor encroached on our good King. We captured him and hid him in the Bastille. It was a delicate matter, since the impostor vaguely resembles the King, although, you know, I didn’t see any resemblance! Our king is so noble, his posture, suit and everything, you know! And this pathetic little man, whom we tied up and took to the Bastille, is no match for our glorious Louis XIV . What should I add here? What is there to talk about here?
“There’s a lot to talk about,” Aramis objected with a sigh. “But apparently you are not quite ready for this.”
“I understand, Aramis,” replied Porthos. “Do you think that the prisoner could have broken out of the Bastille and started a rebellion?” In this case, we need to rush to the aid of the King!
- Porthos, do you see the ship? - Aramis interrupted Porthos. - It looks like a sail, doesn't it?
- Ship! - Porthos was delighted. - Yes, and not alone! I see four! Not there yet! Bah! There's a whole fleet here! And you attacked me because of some pair of sailboats!
- Yes, Porthos. These are Royal Navy ships! - Aramis answered with a tremble in his voice. - Warships!
“So we are not in danger of dying from hunger!” - Porthos was delighted. - It’s not just dried fish that is found on military ships!
- You're right, Porthos! We need not fear death from hunger. The king will not allow this,” said the Bishop of Vannes gloomily.
- Today for dinner we will have pig with horseradish! - Porthos said dreamily.
- To hell with the pig, Porthos! - Aramis cried. - Porthos, sound the alarm! Gunners to battle! Your voice is louder than mine, shout, Porthos! And let's hurry to the fortress.
- Anxiety? But why worry? - Porthos was surprised.
- Because these are the ships of the rebel whom you and I placed in the Bastille. Your prediction has come true, Porthos!
- How did you find out about this? - Porthos was surprised.
- Think for yourself! Do royal ships sail towards a fortress that belongs to the king with their battle flags raised and their battlements open? - Aramis exclaimed, dragging Porthos onto the fortress walls.
By order of Aramis, the fortress was put into combat condition.
Meanwhile, a boat sailed from the flagship under a white flag.
- Don't shoot at the envoy! - Aramis commanded.
When the boat reached the shore, it turned out that the role of envoy was being played by the captain of one of the sailing ships, whom Porthos had sent for food.
- What's going on, captain? - asked Aramis.
“I was captured, brought here and given a package for you, monsignor.” - answered the parliamentarian.
As soon as he looked at the envelope, Aramis recognized d'Artagnan's handwriting. Aramis immediately opened the envelope and read the following:

“The king's orders are to capture Belle-Ile. Destroy the garrison if resistance is offered. Arrest all the soldiers of the garrison.
Arrest the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon and transport them to the Bastille.
Signed: d'Artagnan."
Aramis turned pale and crumpled the paper in his hand.
“What did Monsieur d’Artagnan tell us to convey in words?” - asked Aramis.
“He invites you to his ship for negotiations,” answered the envoy.
- Here we are together again! - Porthos was delighted. - My dear d'Artagnan has arrived to us!
With these words, he jumped onto the parapet of the fortress and began waving both arms, shouting:
- D'Artagnan! We are here, d'Artagnan! It's Porthos and Aramis!
- Sit down and calm down! - Aramis cried sharply. - Sit down and listen, I tell you!
- It's D'Artagnan! - Porthos continued to rejoice, hugging Aramis by the shoulders with his heavy hand.
But Aramis covered his mouth with his hand.
-Are you crazy? - he hissed at Porthos. “If it were d’Artagnan, why would he send an envoy to us?” He could have come himself without fear of anything! Who can guarantee that this is not a trap?
The smile disappeared from Porthos's face.
- A trap? - Porthos whispered. - From whom?
“From the side of the one they don’t talk about,” Aramis said in the tone of a conspirator and put a finger to his lips. - That man from the bed.
“That’s it,” said the naive Porthos. - What should we do?
“We invite Monsieur d’Artagnan to come to us for negotiations,” he said, turning to the envoy. - Is that right, Mister Baron?
- Certainly! - Porthos answered joyfully. - We are always glad to see Monsieur d'Artagnan at our place, wherever we are!
- Go for an answer! - Aramis said to the parliamentarian. - Let the envoy pass! Do not shoot!
The boat with the envoy floated towards the ship, and Aramis put his hand on Porthos’ shoulder.
“We should urgently have a serious conversation, Porthos, and clarify some of the features of our situation,” he said.

XXV. Colbert's Cunning

“Listen, Porthos, I am a scoundrel who deceived you,” Aramis began.
— Are we preparing a prank? - Porthos smiled. - Let's joke about d'Artagnan.
“I deceived you, Porthos, I dragged you into a state crime,” said Aramis, emphasizing every word in his voice.
- Did you deceive me? For what? - Porthos smiled.
“At that moment I thought it would be better,” Aramis answered, embarrassed.
“Did you do this for my good?” - continued Porthos.
“At that time it seemed to me so, Porthos, although in reality everything turned out to be completely different.” - answered the prelate.
“Can you be responsible for the fact that your hopes were not fulfilled?” - Porthos asked naively. “After all, if you start holding a person accountable for the fact that his hopes did not come true, then we will all be to blame!”
“But as a result of my miscalculations, you can suffer very much, Porthos!” - Aramis continued with despair that Porthos did not want to understand all of Aramis’s guilt before him.
“If only you knew how many times I suffered from the fact that my hopes were not met!” What a surprise! - Porthos laughed.
“It’s my fault that you are now a state criminal!” - Aramis exclaimed.
“And when d’Artagnan and I broke into Mazarin’s treasury, who were we then?” And nothing, because we are alive and well! - Porthos smiled disarmingly.
- Lord, give me patience! - Aramis exclaimed. - Yes, you finally understand, Porthos, that I dragged you into a conspiracy! We kidnapped the real king and replaced him with his twin brother!
- Nice, must be a trick! - Porthos laughed. - This is not for you to knock down a bull!
- But we rebelled against the King! - Aramis shouted in despair.
“I believe you,” Porthos answered seriously. - If you encroached on royal power, this means that...
- Yes, a thousand times yes, this means that we are criminals! - Aramis exclaimed.
“This means that you understand that our King is not as good as they say about him,” answered Porthos. - I believe you, Aramis. After all, you consulted with d'Artagnan, and he advised you on this matter?
- I didn’t consult with anyone! I decided this alone, me, and no one else! - Aramis said tiredly. “And therefore the responsibility for this crime lies with me alone!”
“Well, now it’s just the two of us,” Porthos objected coolly. - So goodbye pig and horseradish? We won't be fed properly either today or tomorrow, this damn fish again?
“Soon there may be no fish,” Aramis waved his hand. — How would you like a menu consisting of bread and water?
- At least some variety. First bread, then water! - Porthos answered calmly and winked. “Still, it would be better with a pig and a bottle of Burgundy!”
“We will most likely be executed,” Aramis said doomedly.
- We will be executed, you say? - Porthos laughed again. - We had a lot of fun at the end!
- Oh, Porthos, my glorious Porthos, I won’t allow this! - Aramis almost howled. “I promise, I will find a way to escape, believe me.”
“So that’s why you were so upset that I sent both sailing ships away?” - asked Porthos, wrinkling his brow.
- Alas! - answered Aramis.
“So we’re even, because not only did you deceive me, but I also let you down.” Forgive me, Aramis! - Porthos said sincerely and looked into the bishop’s eyes with regret.
- It is unbearable! “You are a saint, Porthos,” exclaimed Aramis. “I expected you to be indignant and swear.”
- What's the use of swearing when the job is done? - Porthos asked innocently. - After all, our swords are with us? Therefore, we will sell our lives dearly!
- Oh, Porthos, dear Porthos! — was all Aramis could say.
“Are you saying that I will not be a duke and a peer?” - Porthos said with indifference. - It's nothing, don't think about it. I already forgot about this.
“My friend, if it were up to me, you would become a prince!” - Aramis said sincerely.
- I prefer to remain Porthos! - Porthos answered. - So, have I finally fallen out with Louis the Fourteenth? And he won't invite me to dinner again?
“I acted like a notorious egoist,” answered Aramis. -You don't have to forgive me.
“ Come on,” Porthos interrupted him. - You acted solely in your own interests, that is, exactly the same as all other people on earth. There is no way I can be angry with you for not being a saint. And enough of that.
With these words, Porthos shook his old friend's hand, causing him to almost cry out.
- Sorry! I again did not measure my strength. - Porthos was embarrassed.
- It was I who did not measure up my strength. “It is I who must ask your forgiveness,” Aramis answered.
“You received it a long time ago,” Porthos waved it off.
Aramis felt tears welling up in his eyes. The nobility of Porthos was even stronger than the nobility of Fouquet, who rushed to save the King, knowing that this would bring him nothing but trouble, but did not waver for a second in his decision.
Porthos did nothing, he simply forgave his friend for the simple reason that he considered him his friend. Aramis hugged Porthos tightly, trying to hide his tears.
“Listen, Porthos,” said Aramis, “you are the unfortunate victim of the deception into which I have involved you.” You are not the King's enemy. All the blame is mine, and I am the only one to blame in this matter, so I believe you are in no danger. With d'Artagnan's intercession, you will easily make peace with the King.
“Even I won’t believe this fairy tale,” Porthos calmly objected. “You and I are in an equal position and we will have the same fate.”
“We will both be arrested and executed,” Aramis shrugged. “The fortress is good, but it will not withstand a siege in which the entire royal fleet under the command of d’Artagnan is participating.”
- D'Artagnan! - Porthos exclaimed. - After all, it is he who commands the fleet! He will let us go.
“He received orders to arrest us,” Aramis shook his head. “I believe both his career and his life depend on how he carries out this order.”
“And for the sake of such a trifle, d’Artagnan will betray our friendship?” - Porthos was surprised. - Would you really do that in his place?
Aramis blushed deeply at these simple-minded words from Porthos.
“But he agreed to lead the chase after us!” - Aramis exclaimed.
- Of course, to give us the opportunity to hide! - Porthos objected without a shadow of doubt.
“It’s hard to predict what exactly he’s up to,” Aramis shook his head in doubt. D'Artagnan is D'Artagnan.
- Very accurately said! - d'Artagnan's voice was heard. - I am me, don’t hesitate!
With these words, the captain of the musketeers appeared in front of them, sailing in a boat, which they had not noticed due to their heated discussions.
- You are waiting for me on the shore, friends! How nice! - he exclaimed, easily jumping out of the boat onto the pier.
Quickly, like a twenty-year-old, he ran up the stone stairs to the landing, where he was met by two friends. Following him up the stairs, not so quickly, but almost keeping pace with him, an officer climbed up the stairs.
D'Artagnan stopped halfway. His companion did the same.
Seeing that d'Artagnan was accompanied by only one officer, Aramis was ashamed that he was meeting him accompanied by guards and ordered everyone except Porthos to leave. d'Artagnan nodded his head and turned to his companion:
“Sir, contrary to the order of the King, who places the entire fleet at my disposal, you did not obey my order. I am ready to recognize your primacy on your ship only within certain limits. This is not a Royal Navy ship, so I ask you to retire to the boat, as I will have confidential negotiations with the enemy.
“ Sir,” answered the officer, “I strictly followed the order given to me before sailing.” I am ordered to follow you everywhere and not allow any negotiations with the enemy without being aware of the content of these negotiations. That's exactly what I do.
D'Artagnan trembled with anger.
“Sir,” he said quietly but clearly, “it seems to me that you have two dozen pockets, and in each of them there are a dozen orders that bind me hand and foot.” Meanwhile, I have received from the hands of the King the highest authority in all branches of the army, land and sea, of which I, it seems, notified you immediately after my arrival on your ship and gave you to read this order from the first letter to the last!
“Sir,” replied the officer, “the orders I received do not in any way contradict the orders you received.” You are entrusted with commanding us, and I am entrusted with constantly accompanying you, without moving further than one meter.
“Sir,” continued d’Artagnan, “I no longer care about you or about the orders that Monsieur Colbert gave you!” I have been insulted! In my entire life I have only been truly angry six times, and on five previous occasions it ended in the death of the one who angered me, and only on one occasion did the person manage to escape and hide behind a secret door! I don't see any walls here, therefore there are no secret doors here. Therefore, nothing will stop me from stabbing you on my sword like a beetle!
The officer turned pale, but calmly answered:
“Sir, you can kill me, but my assistant has an order for this.” If you return to the flagship without me in this boat, then you will be immediately arrested for a duel in wartime, and the entire operation to capture the fortress will be led by my assistant.
Porthos and Aramis watched this dramatic scene with bated breath.
D'Artagnan, having mastered himself, came close to the officer.
“Sir, besides keeping you no more than a meter away from me, do you have any additional instructions?”
“In all other respects, I must completely obey you, Mr. Captain,” was the answer.
- In that case, calm down! - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
The officer stood up straight.
“Porthos, cover this fellow’s ears with your palms, just be careful not to crush his head.” I need him alive and not crippled!
Porthos pressed his plump palms so tightly to the officer's ears that he began to fear that his head would split open like a dry nut under the hooves of a young stallion.
- Be careful, Porthos, don’t you see he’s barely alive? - D'Artagnan smiled - More tenderly. So, the officer did not move more than a meter away from me, all orders were being carried out, all conditions were met.
Aramis and d'Artagnan hugged, after which d'Artagnan also hugged Porthos.
“I didn’t expect that I would be so helpless!” - D'Artagnan said sadly. “Nominally leading the campaign, I am, in fact, just a puppet in Colbert’s hands!” But let's hasten to talk.
- What do these strictures mean? - asked Porthos.
“Porthos didn’t know anything, he was only the executor of my will,” Aramis hastened to say.
D'Artagnan cast a reproachful glance at the prelate, which made Aramis feel uneasy.
- Damn it! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - I had a plan that was bursting at all the seams! I wanted to take you both to my ship and take you wherever you please, and then return to the King, and whatever will happen there. But now I believe that in this case I will simply be joined to you, and all three of us will be dragged to the King in chains.
- This does not fit! - exclaimed Porthos.
At the same time, he absent-mindedly squeezed the officer’s head a little tighter, so that d’Artagnan had to shout “Careful, Porthos!”
 
“There is only one thing left,” said d’Artagnan , “I will launch an attack in this place.”
He pulled out from his cuff a map of the fortress that he had drawn during his previous trip. Aramis was amazed at how accurate this map was. The place to which d'Artagnan pointed was one of the most impregnable places, while from the outside it would seem that this was a very favorable place for an assault.
“This will allow you to hide in the chaos that has begun,” d’Artagnan continued. “At least prepare a shuttle for yourself, because if not me, then Colbert’s spies, I guarantee, will turn over every stone on the island to find you.”
- Hide? - exclaimed Porthos. - Retreat? Never. Isaac du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier never retreated!
- Porthos, are you going to fight against d'Artagnan? - Aramis was surprised.
- In no case! - exclaimed Porthos.
“You will not retreat, but will carry out a long reconnaissance in order to occupy a more strategically advantageous position and prevent encirclement and subsequent capture,” explained d’Artagnan.
- That's another matter! - Porthos calmed down. “This is acceptable in combat.”
“However, there is another option,” said d’Artagnan. “That scoundrel Colbert has filled the ship with his spies, who have all sorts of orders limiting my actions.” I will feign irritation, relinquish my authority, and while they find a replacement for me, you will have at least a day to escape.
- This could work! - Aramis nodded.
“Now, Porthos, release the officer,” said d’Artagnan.
- Sir, at ease! - D'Artagnan ordered the officer. “And accept a thousand apologies from us for the inconvenience that the strong embrace of Baron du Valon caused you.” You reminded him of one of your favorite nephews, and he could not contain his outburst of love. After a couple of days, your ears will not hurt. You did not violate any orders, and I also did not violate any orders.
“And I, as a bishop, forgive you your sins, if there were any,” Aramis picked up. - The road to heaven is guaranteed for you.
“However, don’t rush into this,” d’Artagnan winked. “At least until you and I return to the ship!”
Boarding the ship, d'Artagnan assembled a council of war from the captains of the squadron entrusted to him.
“Gentlemen, I offered the rebels to surrender, but they refused,” he said. “I’m going to invite the two main officers of the rebel fortress to negotiate on the flagship.” We will demonstrate our strength to them, after which I hope to convince them to surrender. Do you agree with me, gentlemen?
At these words, the officer accompanying d'Artagnan to the shore took a sealed package from his pocket, on which was the number "1" and handed it to d'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan tore the package incredulously, took out and unfolded the paper and read:

“Monsieur d'Artagnan is prohibited from conducting any negotiations until Belle-Ile has surrendered and all the prisoners have been shot.
Signed: Louis."

D'Artagnan could hardly contain his indignation, but, having mastered himself, answered with the most amiable smile:
- Excellent, sir. I see all the difficulties are provided for!
Thinking for a moment, d'Artagnan feigned anger and exclaimed:
- Gentlemen! - addressing the assembled officers. “I see that I have lost the trust of His Majesty!” The order entrusting me with emergency powers is simply a meaningless piece of paper! People far below me in rank have numerous orders in their pockets canceling it! I wouldn’t be surprised if the last sailor on this ship also has some instructions regarding me! Well, I resign from command and we are returning to the shores of France. You will be assigned a new commander-in-chief, who, I hope, will not be tied hand and foot by numerous packages with numbers and orders! In this case, it will probably accomplish something that I don't see any possibility of accomplishing myself. We are back, gentlemen!
At the same time, d'Artagnan was almost sure that the time he thus provided to his friends would be sufficient to escape in an unknown direction.
But the same officer produced an envelope marked "2", containing an order that read:

“Should M. d'Artagnan express a desire to resign his powers, remove him from command and place him at the disposal of the King; the officer who has this order with him is instructed to take on the task entrusted to Monsieur d'Artagnan, which officer will be considered from this moment on to be the head of the expedition, the commander of the troops sent against Belle-Ile, and he will also complete the mission of capturing the fortress and arrest or execution of the rebels."

“If I put this order in my pocket,” thought d’Artagnan, “no one will know about its contents, but whatever happens!”
At the same moment he saw that all the officers around him were reading the same order, copies of which this officer had distributed to them.
“Sir,” bowed the same fatal officer who approached him, “you must immediately go ashore with these four officers.” A boat is waiting for you.
- Gentlemen! - he addressed everyone present. - You are familiar with the King's order. From this moment on, I am in command of the assault on the fortress.
“Well, Monsieur Colbert,” d’Artagnan said mentally, “you won this battle. Can you win the war against me?"
And he went down into the boat, accompanied by four officers.

XXVI. Lokmaria Cave

After parting with d'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos went to the main fort.
“So Porthos,” said the prelate, “d’Artagnan, at the cost of his career, gives us a day.”
- What will this give us? - asked Porthos.
— Do you remember the dungeon of Lokmaria? - continued Aramis, - the same one where we ambushed foxes so many times. There is a good longboat hidden at the exit of this dungeon. True, it still needs to be rolled to the sea, but the rollers on which it was rolled are stored there.
“In this case, I alone will be able to roll it down to the sea,” Porthos answered serenely.
- Perfect! This very night we will go out to sea in it! - Aramis exclaimed.
-Where are we going? - asked Porthos.
- Anywhere, just to get away from France. - Aramis answered.
— Are we leaving France forever? - asked Porthos.
“We will probably return to it, but for this we need to escape from Colbert’s hands tomorrow,” answered the prelate. “We will return to France as winners, Porthos, have no doubt!”
Suddenly the sound of cannon fire reached the friends, after which a cry was heard in the fortress:
- To arms! To arms!
Aramis opened the window and turned pale.
- They're attacking! - he said. “Our friend d’Artagnan has apparently been arrested, and another man is in command of the attack!” They are attacking in a completely different place from where d'Artagnan was going to attack! This place was chosen most successfully, we won’t hold out for long.
Porthos jumped to his feet, but suddenly cried out in pain.
- What's the matter with you, Porthos? - Aramis asked in alarm.
- Nothing. My legs. This is the first time this has happened to me! Give me a minute, it will pass.
A minute later, Porthos jumped up as if nothing had happened and rushed into battle.
While Aramis fired his arquebus at the officers, Porthos loaded the cannons with heavy cast-iron cannonballs as if they were balls of straw. The cannons fired incessantly, piercing the sides of the ships. For some time, the besieged received a respite, since the commanding officer realized that if this went on, he could lose all his ships. The ships were withdrawn to a distance beyond the reach of shots to seal the holes, pump out water and prepare for a new attack.
At that moment, an officer ran up to Aramis and reported that the attack had also been carried out in other parts of the fortress. The attackers have broken through to the island in many places and are breaking through to the citadel.
Aramis released the officer and told him to do as he pleased.
“Well, Porthos,” said Aramis excitedly, “now there is that same bustle in the fortress in which we should carry out a long reconnaissance in order to occupy a more strategically advantageous position and prevent encirclement and subsequent capture!” The longboat is waiting for us in the Lokmaria cave!
With these words, Aramis opened the desk drawer, took out a heavy golden box, and poured two handfuls of diamonds from it into Porthos’s pockets, leaving himself only a couple of rings with large emeralds; he threw the box away with contempt.
- On the road, friend Porthos! Live! - shouted the prelate, dragging Porthos along with him.
Hiding from prying eyes, Aramis and Porthos finally reached a deep cave, to the exit of which Aramis prudently ordered to roll a good-quality longboat on rollers.
“Porthos, let me go first,” said Aramis. “Three Breton servants are waiting for us in the cave, and you don’t know the conventional sign, without which you risk getting shot or hit by a sword.”
Having found all three at the appointed place, Aramis ordered one of them to go get Porthos.
As soon as everyone gathered together, they headed towards the hidden longboat.
The longboat was supplied with provisions, water and weapons, in a word, it was ready for a long voyage.
“In order to lower the longboat to the sea, there are two ways,” said one of the servants. “We dragged him along the top, the descent there is smooth, nothing will interfere with us.”
- But they can see us, and then everything is lost! - Aramis objected.
“The other way is along the bed of this cave,” said the same servant, however, at the end of the cave there lies a large stone that recently collapsed from above. He will prevent us from pulling the longboat out to sea unless we remove him.
- I saw this stone! - said Porthos. “I’ll remove it alone if necessary.”
- Monsignor! It will take at least ten people to move this stone! - the servant objected.
“You’re right,” Aramis agreed, “let’s try to drag the longboat along the top.” But we'll have to wait until dark.
Suddenly dogs were heard barking.
“ This is a pack,” Porthos noted, “the dogs are running along the fox’s trail.”
-Who hunts in such troubled times? - Aramis exclaimed.
- Probably the one who considers this time and this place the most suitable for hunting! - Porthos concluded thoughtfully.
“The king’s guards, tired of looting and violence, can afford to have fun with hunting,” Aramis said knowingly.
- Guardsmen! - said one of the servants, who cautiously looked out of the cave.
At that moment, the fox, fleeing persecution, jumped into the cave, and after her the dogs ran into it, loudly barking.
- Oh damn! - Aramis cried. - Our hideout has been discovered!
“That’s true,” agreed Porthos. “But if none of the dogs returns up from the cave, in this darkness the guards will hardly find the entrance to the cave.”
“That means we need to kill them all, and silently,” answered the bishop. “Get to the point!”
The Bretons rushed forward with knives in their hands, and in a few minutes the dogs were finished.
“Okay,” Aramis said coldly. “Now it’s the owners’ turn.”
- How many are there? - asked Porthos.
“There are sixteen of them,” answered one of the Bretons.
“I hope they are well armed,” Porthos smiled with a smile, “I hate long reconnaissance without reconnaissance in force!”
“We can handle this,” Aramis said. “Their eyes are unaccustomed to the dark, while we already see perfectly well.” Prepare everything - muskets and daggers.
The arriving guardsmen, despite the darkness, discovered the entrance to the cave. For some time they did not dare to enter the cave.
— Our dogs have disappeared, every single one! - one of them exclaimed. “It’s dark in the cave, and we don’t have flashlights.” Perhaps there is a sharp and deep cliff where all our dogs fell?
The guards were about to leave, but one of them suddenly said:
— A fox hid in this cave. If there was an abyss there, the fox would know about it and would not run there.
-Where did the dogs go? - asked another guardsman.
“The cave is probably long and has many bends, and we simply cannot hear their barking.” They continue to chase the fox. Are we really going to leave our dogs here and return home with nothing? — the first guardsman continued to convince others.
- He is right! - one of the guards, apparently senior in rank, finally said. - Let's go inside!
At these words, six guards, one after another, carefully entered the cave. The ten who remained outside listened intently to the sounds of their footsteps. Suddenly they heard strange sounds, either wheezing or sniffling, after which everything became quiet.
“Apparently, there really is some kind of hole there.” - The officer said. “But we cannot leave our comrades without help.” This is how we will do it! We will tie ourselves with some kind of rope and go down with a chain, belaying each other.
Since there was no rope, the guardsmen decided to hold each other's hands, forming a human chain. As soon as the fourth guardsman in the chain disappeared into the darkness, there was a deafening roar and the smell of gunpowder.
- Damn it, it's an ambush! - shouted the senior officer. “We will smoke them out of there, no matter who they are, even if it’s the devil himself!”
Aramis and Porthos, supported by three Bretons, would, of course, easily deal with all sixteen guardsmen. Ten of them were already dead.
But help suddenly came to the guards.
Meanwhile, the fugitives, taking advantage of the confusion in the enemy camp, almost rolled the longboat to the very exit of the cave to the sea. While Porthos was pushing the longboat, the three Bretons took turns placing rollers under it, and things went well.


Soon they managed to drag the longboat to a large stone that blocked the life-saving exit to the sea.
Porthos, like an ancient titan, rested his shoulders on the top of the stone and pushed it forward with force. After the third attempt, the stone was moved from its place; after the fifth push, it rolled down, opening the way for the longboat to the sea, and for the five fugitives to freedom.
The Bretons and Porthos dragged the longboat through the last stage into the ocean, while Aramis, with muskets at the ready, covered their retreat.
Just at this time, a reinforcement detachment arrived.
Aramis, having counted the arrivals, realized the pointlessness of further battle. The forces were too unequal. Getting involved in a battle was like death, but going into the sea, giving the enemy access to the cave, would be just as reckless.
- Porthos, we have only one way out! - Aramis exclaimed.
- Nice! - Porthos answered. - That's exactly one more than none! Quite enough! What does it consist of?
“How far can you throw this keg of gunpowder?” - Aramis asked, pointing to a weighty barrel that was half the size of the muid.
“Perhaps about twelve to fifteen meters,” answered the giant.
“I’ll light the fuse, and when I shout “let’s go!”, throw it as far as possible.
- I'm ready! - Porthos answered. - Set it on fire!
- Don't forget to duck as soon as you throw it! - Aramis cried. - Attention! Let's go!
Porthos threw the barrel as hard as he could and ducked behind a high stone. There was a deafening roar. The vaults of the cave above the place where the barrel fell collapsed. The passage along which the guards pursued the fugitives was firmly blocked, the fugitives were saved.
Porthos, who had thrown this keg of gunpowder into the midst of the enemies and created incredible chaos in the cave, resumed his reconnaissance, that is, he began to catch up with Aramis and the Bretons. Only six of his huge leaps separated him from the exit from the cave, when suddenly he felt that his knees were buckling again and his legs were refusing to obey him.
Aramis couldn't understand what made Porthos stop. He shouted:
- Come on, Porthos, hurry up!
- I can't! - Porthos shouted back.
With his hands he tried to lift his legs and make them obey his master, but in vain. Finally, grabbing the walls of the cave with his hands, he stood up on his feet, which did not obey him at all.
Aramis finally realized what had happened.
- Wait, they’ll help you now! - he shouted.
Realizing that he alone could not raise Porthos, and that it was also impossible to leave the longboat unattended when it had already been launched, he sent the Bretons to help Porthos.
The brave Bretons jumped out of the longboat and rushed to help the giant, but at that time a huge stone, twice the size of the one that our giant had so recently crushed from its centuries-old place, slowly slid down from the edge of the cave.
- Be careful! - Aramis shouted to Porthos and the Bretons, but it was too late.
A huge stone slid down and blocked the exit for Porthos, after which it collapsed inside the cave, apparently burying the glorious Baron du Valon forever. Aramis saw the powerful body of Porthos disappear under the boulder falling on him.
Aramis's heart felt as if it had burst and torn in two. He almost lost consciousness.
Without remembering himself, he collapsed exhaustedly to the bottom of the Longboat, and hot tears flowed from his eyes and down his thin, wrinkled cheeks.
- Porthos! Porthos! - he repeated in despair. - Porthos, I ruined you! Woe is me!
The prelate's eyes darkened and he fainted.
At this very time, shots were heard from the shore. These are the guardsmen who did not die from the explosion of the cave, got out through its upper entrance and ran on horseback to the ocean shore. It was impossible to hesitate, two Bretons hastily sat down on the oars, while the third hastened to unfurl the sail, after which the longboat rushed into the ocean, and the musket bullets of the guards could no longer reach it and cause any harm to the fugitives.

XXVII. In the sea

For more than an hour, the longboat sped away from the island. Aramis, seemingly indifferent to his fate, lay in despair at the bottom of the longboat, oblivious to the spray of salt water pouring over his face and clothes.
Suddenly one of the Bretons said:
- Monsignor, there is a sail on the horizon!
- Chase? - Aramis asked indifferently.
“Perhaps they haven’t noticed us yet,” answered the eldest of the Bretons and ordered the sail to be removed so as not to attract attention.
However, apparently, it was too late: the ship was rapidly approaching.
Aramis took out a telescope from one of the bags stowed in the longboat and looked in the direction of the ship.
“They see us and come straight to us, we can’t escape,” the prelate said just as indifferently.
As soon as the ship approached within the distance of a cannon shot, the passengers of the longboat heard a roar, after which a cannonball fell into the water very close to the longboat.
“This is a warning shot,” Aramis said. “They will drown us if we try to leave.” Dry your oars.
The sailors stopped rowing and defiantly raised their oars from the water.
The ship came almost close to the longboat.
- Hey, on the longboat! Give up! - the ship's commander shouted into the bullhorn.
The Bretons looked at Aramis. The prelate nodded his head.
Two dozen muskets were aimed at the fugitives.
A rope ladder was thrown from the side.
- Get on board one at a time! - the captain shouted. - At the first attempt to resist, we shoot!
And, turning to the sailors, he added:
- We only need Monsieur d'Herblay. We guarantee life for the rest.
“We accept your terms,” Aramis shouted, not giving the Bretons time to think.
- How are you, monsignor? - asked the eldest of the Bretons.
“You can’t beat fate,” the prelate answered indifferently. - Yes, now there’s no need.
Aramis glanced over the side of the ship. Suddenly, having read its name, Aramis quickly jumped up and quickly climbed onto the ship, ahead of the other sailors.
Having climbed on board, he walked up to the captain with confident steps and made a mysterious gesture with his hand, at the sight of which the captain bowed his head respectfully before the prelate. After this, Aramis raised his left hand to the captain's eyes and showed him a ring with a precious stone on it. The captain bowed even lower with deep respect.
A few minutes later, Aramis was placed in the captain’s cabin, and the captain himself ordered everyone to leave, after which he approached Aramis and asked:
-Where does the monsignor order you to head?
Aramis only tiredly waved his hand away from the island, to the west, after which he leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes.
"Glorious Porthos! - he thought. - you didn’t have enough steps to be completely saved! Perhaps it would be better if this stone were a grave for both of us!”
After this, Aramis’s heart sank with grief, but tears already refused to provide relief to the prelate’s grief.

XXVIII. King Louis XIV

The four guards who accompanied d'Artagnan did not take the sword from him, since the order did not say that the captain of the musketeers should be arrested, the order only said that he should be taken to the King, who was at that time in Nantes. Therefore, d'Artagnan was brought to the King from the island of Belle-Ile by sea, and then along the Loire River.
By right of the captain of the king's musketeers, d'Artagnan wore a sword not only while on duty or in the intervals between these times, but did not take it off even when he came to the King. However, this time he noticed with what concern the guards who took him to the King’s reception room were looking at his sword.
- In this terrible sea motion, my sword hit my legs so often that there was no living space on them! Look after her while I run to talk to His Majesty! During this conversation, I won’t need it, and my legs will thank me for this short rest,” with these words d’Artagnan unfastened the sword along with the scabbard and carefully laid it on the sofa.
The guards relaxed, and d'Artagnan decisively stepped into the King's reception room.
- Your Majesty, you sent for me, and I am at your feet! - said d'Artagnan and bowed to the King's hand. “I’m delighted that you needed me, but I regret that I didn’t have time to complete the mission entrusted to me.”
“Sir,” asked the King, “for what purpose, in your opinion, did I send you to Belle-Ile, giving you the highest powers?”
“Your Majesty, I don’t know anything about this, since my powers actually turned out to be limited on all sides.” An infinite number of junior officers who, even without this high authority, should have been subordinate to me in accordance with my rank, were endowed with sufficient authority to prevent me from doing anything to accomplish the mission entrusted to me. - D'Artagnan answered in such a submissive tone that not a drop of pride or resentment sounded in them. “I believe that this camarilla of small officers with major powers was better informed than I was about the purposes of my trip and about the ways to achieve the task. I could not fulfill the duties of the head of the expedition, since I was not one.
“Sir, if you acted in accordance with the task assigned to you, your actions would not be interfered with by any powers granted to these officers,” objected the King. “I had reason not to trust you, so I surrounded you with people whom I trust more to carry out this mission.”
“And these people completed the task assigned to them better than I,” d’Artagnan picked up.
-What did you mean, captain? - the King asked arrogantly. - Explain yourself.
“You have set the task of taking the Belle-Ile fortress under your hand, Your Majesty. If I met resistance, I would have to crush it. “I was also ordered to bring to you the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon,” answered d’Artagnan.
—Have you completed your tasks, Monsieur d'Artagnan? - asked the King.
“I tried to complete them in the sequence in which they were given,” the captain answered calmly. “If they hadn’t interfered with me, I would have completed them exactly.”
- Indeed? - the King was surprised.
“It is very difficult to prove now that I have been prevented, but it is even more difficult to refute it, Your Majesty,” d’Artagnan answered humbly.
“Your actions did not contribute in the least to achieving these goals,” the King objected, although less self-confidently.
“ To take the fortress given to you, Your Majesty, under your hand, the most effective measures were negotiations.” “I tried to explain to the main officers of this fortress that it belongs to you, Your Majesty, as a result of which they simply had to give me the keys to it,” the captain answered with a bow.
“It’s also hard to believe,” said the King. - However, I understand that this is difficult to prove, but even more difficult to refute, you say?
“ I communicated my requirements, gave them time to think, and intended to invite these officers to the ship in order to hear their response. - continued d'Artagnan with enthusiasm. - I wasn't allowed to do this.
“These people would never give up!” - objected the King.
— Is this Mr. Colbert’s opinion? - asked the captain. “If he understands the strategy and tactics of combat better than me, and also knows these people better than me, in this case it would be better for him to conduct the campaign.” However, I dare say that I know these people a little better and could probably find arguments to convince them. Therefore, I cannot say that my first steps were meaningless, Your Majesty. If they had been successful, we would have avoided bloodshed and solved all the tasks you set.
- What if you're wrong, captain? - asked the King. “What if they refused to surrender?”
“I draw Your Majesty’s attention to the fact that I intended to invite two senior officers to the flagship to answer.” - said d'Artagnan. “If the rebels had refused to surrender, I would have arrested them there, on the flagship, after which the fortress would have been left without commanders and would have submitted to the legal demands of Your Majesty.” After that, I would take the Belle-Ile fortress under your hand, and deliver to you the rebels you named, that is, I would carry out all your orders without shedding a single drop of blood. The blood of your subjects, Your Majesty.
“Are you saying that you would bring your two friends to me?” — the King said with disbelief.
“Doesn’t the fact that you entrusted me with this mission prove that you believed that I would carry it out?” - asked the captain. “That’s the only way I see it.” I cannot prove to you that I would do exactly what I say, but Monsieur Colbert cannot prove that I would not do that!
- These are empty excuses! You have served me poorly, captain! — the King flared up, not liking the fact that he couldn’t say anything worthwhile to the captain of his musketeers.
“Mr. Colbert and the spies he sent serve Your Majesty much better, I believe.” They took the Belle-Ile fortress under your hand, or more precisely, they destroyed it at the most strategically important points, and now only a child will not take it. If the British decide to capture Belle-Ile tomorrow, they will do it without firing a shot. Mr. Colbert's men destroyed the pearl among the border fortresses, the best of the sea outposts, the most important fortress from the point of view of the security of the state, which belonged to you, Your Majesty. They certainly deserved the award. I am guilty of trying to preserve this fortress, so necessary for France, in its original form.
The king turned pale.
“The fortress will be rebuilt, for me something else was more important,” said the King in an icy voice.
“For Your Majesty it was much more important to capture two rebels, the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon, I remember that. “I told you how I was going to carry out this order, but I was not allowed to do it,” the captain said almost dispassionately. “Mr. Colbert’s people had a better plan, and no one stopped them from implementing it. I assume they carried out your orders exactly? They captured them and brought them to Your Majesty?
The king dug his nails into the arms of his chair so hard that his fingertips turned white.
“They will be delivered alive or dead,” he said.
“They won’t be delivered alive,” d’Artagnan answered firmly. “These people could, under certain circumstances, lay down their arms in front of me and surrender to me, or to the Comte de la F;re, but there is no longer a single person in the world who could take these people prisoner.”
“That means they will be brought to me dead,” said the King stubbornly. “And that would suit me perfectly, because if they were brought in alive, it would only be to hang them.”
“Mr. Bishop of Vannes, even a dead man will be able to elude anyone.” — the captain of the musketeers answered confidently. “As for Baron du Valon, even completely unarmed, he will kill three dozen guardsmen before they get the better of him.” And with a sword in his hand or any solid and sufficiently heavy weapon, or at least in extreme cases with shafts, he will kill forty people without blinking an eye.
“If necessary, I will send several hundred, several thousand people there, but these people will be captured or killed,” exclaimed the King, and his voice did not have the confidence that sounded in the captain’s voice.
“You told me, Your Majesty, that if I bring you these rebels, I will receive a marshal’s baton,” d’Artagnan grinned . “I suppose the baton of the Marshal of France has already been prepared for M. Colbert?” I'm afraid this rod will have to gather dust for many decades before it is given to this person. At least not for such a victory.
- Enough, captain! - exclaimed the King, feeling that he could not object to d'Artagnan. - You tire me!
“This problem is easy to fix, Your Majesty,” the captain replied. - Or give me a vacation, in which case not only will I take a break from service, but you will also take a break from me. Or let me resign, then our mutual vacation will last much longer.
“Go,” said the King.
— On vacation or retirement? - asked d'Artagnan.
“Wait,” Louis waved his hand. - You will be informed of my decision.
D'Artagnan bowed deeply and left the King's office. In the reception room, he took his sword from the sofa and fastened it back to his sword belt.
“If you need me, I’m here,” he said to the eldest of the four guards who brought him to the King.
With these words, he left the royal chambers in an unknown direction.
- Where is it at home? - asked one of the guards. - We are in Nantes!
- Probably in the musketeers' barracks? - answered the other. - Or where?
None of them could give a more precise answer to this question.
 
XXIX. D'Artagnan's investigations

D'Artagnan reasoned that, regardless of whether he received resignation or leave, he was out of service for some time, but left to his own devices. This was exactly what he needed to immediately rush to the aid of Aramis and Porthos, so without hesitation he hurried to return to Belle-Ile.
He understood that if he asked local residents about events, he would be mistaken for a spy. In this case, he will not learn anything, and besides, he risks losing his freedom. So he simply wandered around crowded places, listening to the conversations of passers-by.
He soon learned of an extraordinary event, which was that two noblemen, accompanied by several Bretons, hid in the cave of Lokmaria. They were discovered by a detachment of guards, after which they put up fierce resistance, destroying ten of the sixteen. When help came to the guards, numbering several dozen soldiers, the fugitives made their way through the cave to the seashore. A detachment of guardsmen tried to catch up with the fugitives, following them along the passage of the cave, but the fugitives caused an explosion in which many guardsmen died, as well as, apparently, the fugitives themselves.
D'Artagnan realized that such an event could not have happened without his friends, Aramis and Porthos. He immediately went to the indicated cave and conducted his own investigation.
The corpses of the guardsmen had already been taken out and buried, but everything else remained unchanged. There was no one to restore order there, and there was no need to do so.
“This is where they entered the cave,” d’Artagnan said to himself. - Understand! They apparently hid the longboat here. A very convenient place. They dragged him, apparently, along the top, and were also going to lower him to the sea, but something prevented them from doing this. Apparently these sixteen guardsmen appeared, ten of whom did not leave this cave.”
Looking carefully at all the traces of the incident, d'Artagnan vividly imagined the picture of the battle almost as clearly as if he had been a witness or participant in this battle. Having walked through the cave to the place where Porthos brought it down with a keg of gunpowder, he realized that there was no further progress. Then he returned the way he had come, walked over the cave on horseback and went down to the sea where the cave opened onto the shore.
Here he saw traces of monstrous destruction. Near the very shore lay a huge boulder that had rolled down from the cave exit. Some unknown force turned him inside out.
D'Artagnan climbed to the very exit of the cave, which was blocked with an even larger stone. The captain didn't even try to move him; it was beyond human power.
“The exit from the cave is closed! - d'Artagnan continued to reason. “So my friends are either buried alive inside this damned cave, or they luckily managed to run out of it before this huge stone sealed it forever.”
The second outcome seemed unlikely to him. Moreover, even if his friends managed to jump out of the cave, and even boarded the longboat and managed to set sail, this could not guarantee their freedom. Royal ships filled with Colbert's spies patrolled these waters even now. During these extraordinary events there was no hope of escaping them. Since the rebels were not caught, they most likely remained buried in this cave. In addition, the residents of the fortified city also said something similar.
D'Artagnan came closer to the stone, which he already considered with almost complete certainty to be the tombstone over the grave of his dear Porthos and Aramis.
In a rage, he began to kick the stone with his feet, push and pull with his hands. It seemed that he wanted to vent all his despair on this stone. Indeed, this stone, which rolled down the steep bank so untimely, prevented Aramis and Porthos, if not from saving themselves, then at least from continuing the fight for their lives.
- Damn you, damned stupid cold cobblestone, murderer of my friends! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “I’ll blow you up, but I’ll get to the remains of dear Porthos and Aramis!” I will bury them with honor. Beware, you hated stone! I will destroy you, just give me time!
The sound of the ocean drowned out his cry, but d'Artagnan, who in his youth could not restrain his anger, and over the years gradually began to get used to suppressing his feelings more and more and not showing them in public, decided to give vent to all that anger, all the hatred for injustice of this world, which has accumulated in him over the past thirty-five years.
Suddenly his voice became hoarse, his throat felt sore, he realized that he had practically lost his voice. He covered his face with his hands and fell silent. Suddenly he heard some sound. It was a rhythmic knocking that came from the cobblestone to which the captain addressed his curses.
Not believing his ears, d'Artagnan ran to the stone and pressed his ear to it. This is true! Someone was knocking on the stone from the inside with another stone.
- Porthos! Aramis! It is you? You are alive? - D'Artagnan shouted in a hoarse voice, not paying attention to the tears that flowed from his eyes, leaving dark trails of wet dirt on his dusty cheeks.
Not remembering himself, he grabbed his dagger from his boot, began to dig the ground with it, furiously raking it with his hands and throwing away stones, sand, earth and roots.
- I'm going crazy! - he suddenly thought. - I'm delirious. I dreamed something incredible.
Looking around, he picked up a heavy cobblestone from the ground, walked up with it to the cursed stone that closed the cave, and began knocking on it: two blows, a pause, three blows, a pause, two blows again. Then he put his ear to the stone again.
In response, he heard a knock in the same exact order: two knocks, a pause, three knocks, a poise, and two knocks again.
- This is Porthos! - D'Artagnan shouted in a frenzy, despite his broken voice. - Damn it, Porthos! This is exactly how we knocked with him in prison at Mazarin’s! Porthos is alive! A thousand devils, alive, alive!
And d'Artagnan began to tear up the ground to the left of the stone even more furiously than before.
By nightfall his efforts were rewarded; he was able to stick his hand into the cave.
- Porthos! Porthos! - he croaked into the hole.
“D’Artagnan,” came from the cave.
The captain's hand was grabbed by such a familiar, and such a strange hand. It was undoubtedly the hand of Porthos, a huge hand with long fingers, but, my God, what a thin hand it was! All skin and bones!
“You’re alive, Porthos...” d’Artagnan said exhaustedly.
“I would have died a long time ago if it weren’t for a breath of air from a small crack, if not for a few sips of water from this spring!” - answered a weak voice, but it was the voice of Porthos. “But, you know, d’Artagnan, I couldn’t eat locusts.” Apparently I'm not a saint. I would rather starve than eat spiders.
- Porthos! Akrids are not spiders, but grasshoppers,” d’Artagnan laughed through his tears. At that moment he was happy.
 
XXX. D'Artagnan's idea

For several hours, tirelessly, d'Artagnan dug out a passage in order to get to Porthos. While he was digging, Porthos told him about the events that had occurred, which almost completely coincided with the idea about them that the captain had formed from the traces of the battle and explosion that remained at the site. He, of course, was glad that Aramis apparently managed to sail away on the longboat, although Porthos was not sure of this, but only assumed and hoped for such an outcome. After all, he could not know this for sure, since he was buried under a huge block of stone.
“Damn it! Colbert's spies on fast warships probably captured him, d'Artagnan thought with annoyance. - The king will hang him! We must rush to his rescue!”
“Aramis has probably disappeared,” said the Gascon to cheer up Porthos. “I’ll just hide you more reliably for a while, after which I’ll return to Nantes for a while to find out what’s what.”
- We will go together! - said Porthos.
You are exhausted, Porthos! You need to get better and heal. Fortunately, d'Artagnan had a flagon of wine and some crackers with him, which he took in case his investigations were delayed and he had to spend the night in or near the cave. This could not have come at a better time.
- Eat little and slowly, Porthos! - he said, handing the crackers to Porthos through the resulting hole. - Take your time, otherwise too much food will kill you!
“Where do you see the excess food here, d’Artagnan?” - exclaimed Porthos. - These four crackers are enough for me in one bite! And besides, dying from excess food is probably such a sweet death! The last hours, or days, or months, I, by God, I don’t know how much time I spent here, this is exactly what I dreamed of - to die from gluttony!
Fortunately, Porthos, while he was in cramped circumstances caused by the fall of the stone, also did not sit idly by. All this time, he pulled one of the boots off his foot and dug as best he could. Unfortunately, there were no spurs on the boots, and the ground consisted of solid stones, so Porthos in his labors could have freed himself on his own, since his strength was already running out. However, he still dug three-quarters of the way, and if he had not become weak from hunger and despair, he probably would have already been saved.
When, finally, the passage was sufficient, Porthos, thin and exhausted, was finally able to get out through it into freedom. His torn clothes hung on him in baggy rags, there was thick stubble on his cheeks, in a word, Porthos was unrecognizable.
- Porthos! You have changed amazingly, and this is to our benefit. Perhaps, with some caution, you can be transported back to France. If you had also become a little shorter in stature, I would have taken you anywhere without fear, even under Colbert’s nose. Although your height is still alarming. It attracts attention. Why do you actually go to France?
“After all, I own Pierrefonds and Brassier!” These are beautiful estates, I have wonderful houses there. “I want to live in them, at least sometimes,” answered Porthos.
“If you show up in France alive, you will be hanged,” objected d’Artagnan. “Therefore, Porthos, the only way for you to dispose of your estates is to make a will. If the King considers you dead, he will not pursue your heirs, but if he knows that you are alive, he will not only execute you, but will also take all your estates to the treasury first. I assume you wrote a will, Pothos?
- Damn, damn! - exclaimed Porthos. - I didn’t do it!
- Why? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“There were two reasons for this - a very sad one and a not so sad one,” said Porthos and spread his hands.
- You speak in riddles, Porthos! - the captain grinned. — Explain the flight of your thoughts, I beg you!
- Everything is very simple! First of all, the sad reason. As soon as I began to write my will, I remembered Madame Coquenard, who was so kind as to leave me all her property. But this possession of a lot of money did not console me. I still remember her with sadness. As soon as I started writing, tears flowed from my eyes, and I told myself that I would still have time and put it off indefinitely.
- What is the reason that you said is not very sad? - D'Artagnan continued his questions.
“The fact is that the fortune that Madame Coquenard bequeathed to me, she also received in a will from her first husband, Monsieur Coquenard. And in this regard, I cannot find in myself a sufficient amount of grief on this occasion,” Porthos chuckled.
- And how does this have anything to do with the fact that you didn’t write a will? - asked the captain of the musketeers.
“The fact is that when I tried to start dictating the will and at the same time tried not to think about Madame Coquenard, I involuntarily remembered Mr. Coquenard. And the thought always came to my mind that this miser had been saving money all his life, denying himself the most insignificant pleasures, just to accumulate more. And I tried to imagine the sour face he would have made if he had known that all his accumulated money, in a completely legal way, first went to his widow, my future wife, then it became mine and mine, and in the end it became only mine. It turns out that Mr. Coknard denied himself everything in order to save more for my serene life! Really, this is funny, d'Artagnan, especially if you think how indignant he is now there, in paradise. - And Porthos laughed merrily. “Every time I laughed until I started to have hiccups, and in this state it’s too troublesome to dictate a will.” And in this case I also postponed this matter.
“You still have time to take care of everything.” We will find a notary who will certify your signature without insisting too much on the accuracy of the date. You will, of course, have to pay for his services at a special rate.
“It doesn’t bother me,” Porthos waved him off. - I have money.
“Your will will allow us to transfer your money to a reliable person who will not be subject to the King’s wrath.” If only for Raoul de Bragelonne! - added d'Artagnan.
“I’ll give him everything, I’ll just leave a little for Muston and the other servants,” Porthos was touched.
- Commendable, dear Porthos! - the musketeer agreed.
- But what will I live on after this? - the baron asked serenely.
“Raoul will turn your estate into money and give it to you so that you can acquire an estate no worse than Pierrefonds and Brassier, but where the King cannot reach you.”
“I always wanted to live somewhere in the south,” Porthos said simply.
“That’s what we’ll do,” the captain nodded.
- But I want to take Muston with me! - exclaimed du Valon.
- It wouldn't be wise. Colbert’s ideas can guess,” d’Artagnan objected.
“He served me so faithfully for thirty-five years!” - Porthos sighed. “I wouldn’t want to part with him.”
“In that case, he will have to die too,” said the captain, shrugging his shoulders.
- Kill Muston! Are you crazy, d'Artagnan! - Porthos was indignant.
- Just pretend that he died, that is, he must die for everyone else, but in reality he will go to the southern regions with you, Porthos.
- Why pretend that he is dead if he is not wanted by the King? - Porthos continued to be surprised.
“So that Colbert’s spies don’t follow his trail, don’t you understand?” - the captain was surprised. - This, of course, is not the only way, but the simplest and most reliable.
- What if he doesn’t agree? - exclaimed Porthos.
“Don’t shout, Porthos, we’re almost there.” We will sail on the same fishing boat that brought me here. I know the owner of this vessel well. But don't draw attention to yourself. Pull my hat down onto your head as far as possible, and stoop as far as possible, your height is too noticeable. It’s good that you’ve lost so much weight that even I wouldn’t recognize you right away.
D'Artagnan found the captain of the ship, and they almost immediately went to sea and sailed to the shores of France. Fortunately, the ban on fishing boats near the island of Belle-Ile had already been lifted, since the royal guards, on Colbert's orders, searched every corner of the island, but found no one, from which it was concluded that either the rebels were dead or they had managed to escape. On the island itself, the search virtually stopped. However, d'Artagnan prudently retained the order of the King, which transferred land and naval forces to his subordination. Almost useless in the presence of Colbert's spies, who had orders that limited his powers, this order was a very effective force where these spies were not nearby. Our hero understood that the demonstration of such an order by a captain on vacation or, even more so, in retirement could lead him directly to the Bastille, but d'Artagnan was already accustomed to not paying attention to such trifles.
Upon arrival in Nantes, d'Artagnan rented two rooms in a hotel, for himself and for Porthos. Remembering the snoring of his gigantic friend, he took care to find two adjoining rooms, between which there was a common door, but it was upholstered on both sides with felt covered with cloth, and there was a bolt on both sides of this door. The musketeer appreciated the foresight of the owners of the home, which for some time became his home with Porthos. On the road, Porthos gradually began to switch to normal food, and there was no longer any need to worry about the giant’s health. Having ordered that Porthos be served with a sufficient amount of food, d'Artagnan left the baron to eat up and sleep, and he went to the barracks, wondering with trembling in his heart what the King's answer would be - resignation or leave.
The sergeant gave the captain an order that said:

“To the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan - order:
Three days to rest, after which you will receive instructions from Mr. Colbert.
Louis."

Thus, d'Artagnan had to appear to Colbert today.


XXXI. Two orders from the King

Colbert greeted the captain with open arms, as if there was not a shadow of hostility between him and d'Artagnan.
“Hello, Monsieur Colbert,” said d’Artagnan. - Sorry for not bowing. I have been away three days, and have not yet had time to inquire about the name of your new position, and how low I should bend when meeting you.
“Hello, Monsieur d'Artagnan,” answered Colbert. - What kind of ceremony? My position is still the same, I am still the quartermaster of finance.
— Is Monsieur Fouquet still a superintendent? - asked d'Artagnan with the most carefree air.
- What will happen to him? - Colbert asked with feigned surprise and began to bite his lower lip, which apparently indicated that he was overwhelmed by strong feelings.
“What instructions did His Majesty give me?” - inquired the Captain.
“His Majesty does not grant you leave, Mr. Captain, your three-day vacation is over, and His Majesty was told to tell you that the holiday was a great success.”
- Is that all? - D'Artagnan asked dryly.
“His Majesty is confident that you will draw the correct conclusions from this information and that you have carefully preserved the appropriate papers to enable you to act as your duty requires.” Have you forgotten what these words mean yet? - Colbert concluded, and his sharp eyes glared into the musketeer’s eyes.
“I believe that not only am I aware of what they mean, but you are also well aware of it, Monsieur Colbert,” the captain answered dryly.
“His Majesty hopes that no feelings of friendship this time will prevent you from forgetting your duty to the King and to France,” Colbert solemnly concluded.
“To forget about my duty to France,” answered d’Artagnan, and after some almost imperceptible pause he added, “nothing would ever force me to forget about my duty to her King.” It is in vain that you contrast my duty to the King and France with my understanding of the duties of friendship as I understand them. However, the person whose whereabouts I should take care of is not one of my friends. May I take my leave, Mr. Colbert?
- Wait, captain! That's not all. At the very moment when you place that person about whom we know everything, you must open this envelope and fulfill what is intended in it,” Colbert said, after which he took a small key from his neck and used it to open the drawer table, from which he took out a thick paper envelope.
“Tell the King that everything will be done exactly,” d’Artagnan reported. “I would have told him this myself, but His Majesty and I agreed to give each other a rest.” I probably won’t bother the King with the sight of my face for a couple more days, but we’ll see.
Colbert bowed politely, making it clear that he did not want to be at enmity with the captain of the musketeers, and at the same time conveying with this gesture that the conversation was over. D'Artagnan bowed at exactly the same angle, but since he was somewhat taller than Colbert, his bow might have seemed less respectful.
Returning to the hotel, d'Artagnan tried for about a minute to feel the envelope received from Colbert, as if by touch it was possible to determine what text was written on the paper contained in this envelope.
- To hell! This letter is addressed to me, which means I can decide when to open it! - he exclaimed, finally and decisively he broke the seal and opened the mysterious envelope.
On the piece of paper he took from the envelope was written the following:

“An order to M. d'Artagnan to take the prisoner Marciali, known to him, to the island of Sainte-Marguerite, after covering his face with an iron mask. On pain of death, prohibit the prisoner from removing it. Entrust the guard of the prisoner to the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, M. de Saint-Mars, under his personal responsibility, giving him the instructions enclosed here
Louis."

The large envelope also contained a small envelope on which was written

“To the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, M. de Saint-Mars personally: the order of the King”

XXXII. Fouquet's arrest

When d'Artagnan came to Fouquet, the superintendent rejoiced at him like an old friend.
- Dear captain! - he exclaimed. -Where have you been all this time? I am very glad to see you!
“I cannot answer you in the same way, dear M. Fouquet,” answered d’Artagnan. “I would be happier not to see you if I came to your house.” It would be better if you went somewhere.
“I don’t know what kind of offense I caused you,” Fouquet answered worriedly, “but if I have the power to make amends for it, I will do it, no matter what the cost.”
“I ask your permission to use your carriage,” the musketeer answered sadly.
- My carriage? - Fouquet was surprised. “If you don’t intend to use it to kidnap the King so that everyone will then think that it was my doing, then she is at your disposal.”
- How long can you provide it to me, Mr. Fouquet? - inquired d'Artagnan.
- My God! - exclaimed the superintendent. - Take her for as long as you need her. If the carriage that is now standing in the front door does not fit, I will order you to be taken to the carriage house, and you will choose the carriage that suits you best.
“Any one will suit me,” d’Artagnan answered modestly. “But I will be especially pleased to take advantage of the one in which you and I have already traveled once in such high society that I will remember this trip for the rest of my life.”
- It’s decided, take this carriage! - exclaimed Fouquet. - Now explain what’s the matter, if it’s not a secret. I'm incredibly interested in this whole story because I don't understand anything.
“I’ll be happy to explain, monsignor, but for this you will have to come with me to this carriage,” answered the Gascon.
- We're leaving right away! - Fouquet exclaimed cheerfully.
“I’ll go, and you catch up with me,” suggested d’Artagnan. “And, monsignor, if you take with you the items you need on the road, you won’t have to regret it.”
- Do you want me to go somewhere with you, captain? - Fouquet asked worriedly. - I don’t understand anything, but since you’re asking for it...
- You guessed wrong, monsignor. “I don’t want you to go with me, and I’m not asking for it,” the captain objected. - However, you will come with me.
“So I’m under arrest,” Fouquet finally guessed. - You have an order to this effect.
“I’ve had an order on this score for a very long time, but they didn’t rush me into carrying it out,” the captain sighed. - Up to this day. Would you like to take a look at it?
“I don’t see the point,” the superintendent answered sadly. “After all, you are not a person who should not be trusted in such serious matters as this.” I would have looked at it if it had stated the reason for my arrest, but I believe that is precisely what it does not say.
- The absolute truth! - D'Artagnan agreed. - Believe me, I re-read it several times.
“Well, let’s go,” Fouquet said sadly.
“I haven’t presented this order to you yet, and I haven’t informed you about your arrest,” d’Artagnan clarified with his shoulders. “You yourself made the conclusion that I did not refute.” So you haven't been arrested yet. You can collect those things that you consider necessary to take with you and say goodbye to your family.
“This is very painful, but I am grateful to you, Monsieur d’Artagnan, because if I don’t do this, I will curse for such an annoying oversight for the rest of my life,” answered the superintendent. “In that case, I ask you forty minutes, no, thirty, twenty minutes.” Yes, twenty, however, ten minutes will also be enough.
“You give me your word to Fouquet that you will be in the carriage in an hour, and that you will not try to escape or provoke your friends to help and free you,” said d’Artagnan in an artless tone. And I give you an hour to get ready, I will return in exactly an hour, and we will go to the place that His Majesty Louis XIV has designated for you as your home for some time in the future.
- For a while? asked Fouquet.
“I’m not a fortune teller,” answered d’Artagnan. — I don’t predict the length of time you will live in your next apartment. So, you give the floor to Fouquet, and I give you an hour of time.
- Thank you, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - Fouquet replied.
The captain of the musketeers left, and the superintendent hurried to get ready for the journey and say goodbye to his family.
The superintendent's wife at that moment was listening to La Fontaine's fables and laughing merrily. There were also two other friends of Fouquet, Gourville and Pelison. When the superintendent entered the room with hurried steps, she, not noticing his extraordinary excitement, invited her husband to join the circle of listeners and enjoy the poet’s latest fable, which amused her so much.
- Sorry, dear friend! - Fouquet answered Lafontaine. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to appreciate all the beauty and wisdom of your poetry.” I have little time to say goodbye to my family and to you, my friends!
- What's happened? What's the matter? - his friends began to vying with each other to ask him.
- I am arrested by order of the King. Despite the fact that quite recently I rendered him such a service, about which I can say nothing except that, in my opinion, he could forgive me after this even the most serious sins, while I do not know of any guilt. before His Majesty.
- We must run! - exclaimed Lafontaine.
- And immediately! Pelison added.
- Listen, Fouquet! We are the same height as you. We will exchange clothes, I will distract the captain, and in the meantime you will disappear.
- No, no and no, friends! - objected Fouquet. - This is impossible! I gave my word to Fouquet that in an hour I would be ready to travel to where Monsieur d'Artagnan would take me, according to the King's orders.
- It’s nothing, you gave it under pressure, it’s invalid! - Pelisson got excited.
But the Superintendent's wife, Mary Magdalene, objected:
- Friends, if Nicolas gave his word, it is harder than a diamond. Don't persuade him. Fouquet bowed his head in agreement and hugged his wife tightly.
“We will beat you back on the road,” said Gourville. - Let's gather people, attack the carriage, tie up d'Artagnan or kill him!
“If this happens, then I will go to the Bastille myself and tell de Bezmo to arrest me.”
- We won't let you in! - exclaimed Gourville. “We will take you by force to a safe place and hide you.”
- My friends, it’s useless! - Fouquet answered sadly. “I very much regret that I gave this word, but there’s nothing to be done!” If I gave it, I can't run. If you deprive me of my carriage, I will go to the Bastille on foot. Let's not waste time. Let's say goodbye and I still have to get ready for the trip.
Exactly an hour after d'Artagnan left Fouquet, the superintendent approached the carriage, where at the same moment the captain of the musketeers appeared.
- Touch it! To Paris,” Fouquet said to the coachman.
The carriage carried its passengers to Paris in remarkable comfort, thanks to the use of excellent springs.
- Why did I offend the King so much? You don't know, Monsieur d'Artagnan? - Fouquet asked in bewilderment, as soon as they drove away from the gate.
- Tell me, Mr. Superintendent, it seems that you fortified the island of Belle-Ile, which belongs to you, as if you were going to fight against France, that is, against the King? - asked the captain.
“I gave this fortress to the King,” Fouquet answered coldly. “This fortress cannot be the reason for my arrest.” I gave this fortress to the King.
- Excellent, Mr. Superintendent! - D'Artagnan agreed. “If a fortress donated to the King is headed by people who do not obey the King’s orders, then this fortress was donated only on paper. You kept it for yourself.
“Are you condemning me for this, Monsieur d’Artagnan?” asked Fouquet.
- I? Not at all! - answered the captain. “But it wasn’t me who signed the order for your arrest.”
- Tell me, were they saved? asked Fouquet.
“Are you asking about the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon?” - asked d'Artagnan.
- Of course about them! - exclaimed Fouquet. - Speak up!
“I can’t tell you anything definite,” answered d’Artagnan. - Rumor has it that they disappeared and were not found.
- God bless! - said the superintendent, pulled out a gold cross studded with diamonds from under his shirt, and kissed it. “Thank you, Lord, for saving their lives.”
“If they both escaped, I join in your gratitude,” the captain echoed warmly.
“But you don’t know anything for sure?” asked Fouquet.
“I only know that I also pray to God that both of them will be saved, but, unfortunately, over the past thirty-five years I have had more than one occasion to make sure that the Lord listens to my prayers and fulfills them only if I I'll take care of it myself.
-Did you do anything to save them? - inquired Fouquet.
- Everything I could, and at the same time almost nothing.
“Well, let’s pray for them,” Fouquet said humbly.
- Pray on my behalf, Mr. Superintendent, and I’ll think about how I can help them, if it’s not too late.
Then the travelers rode in almost complete silence, as each of them was completely immersed in his own thoughts.

XXXIII. Bastille

As soon as the carriage drove up to the Bastille, Fouquet suddenly became cheerful, which in no way fit in with the situation in which he found himself.
— Monsignor, you have amazing self-control,” stated d’Artagnan. — In such a difficult situation, you find reasons for fun. I like the way you carry yourself. This only adds to the sadness of my mission.
“I was thinking about how you would appear in front of Bezmo,” Fouquet chuckled. - After you locked him in a cell!
“You thought about it only now, monsignor, but I thought about it much earlier,” answered the captain. — Firstly, I have already been here after those events.
- Oh yes! I completely forgot! - Fouquet caught himself. - Prince...
- Monsignor, how quickly and how easily we forget the prince, equal in everything to the King, as soon as we understand that he means nothing in the fields of politics and Fortune! - D'Artagnan sighed.
Fouquet stopped short and fell silent.
- Why don’t you ask me what I meant by “secondly”? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
- Indeed, this is interesting! - said Fouquet, almost forgetting about his own problems.
“Your curiosity will soon be satisfied,” d’Artagnan smiled.
As before, d'Artagnan showed the guard the King's order, after which the doors in front of Fouquet's carriage opened, the carriage drove into the courtyard of the Bastille, after which the doors immediately closed. Believing that after the captain handed over the prisoner, he would go home, the guard was in no hurry to lock the gate.
“Lock everything up,” ordered d’Artagnan. - Let's go, monsignor!
Fouquet looked back at his carriage with regret, looked sadly at the sky and resolutely followed the captain to de Bezmo's office.
- You again, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - Bezmo exclaimed. - This week you have become more frequent!
“You and I have not completed one task, Monsieur de Bezmo,” the captain said serenely. - And matters of this kind must be completed.
- What's the matter? - Bezmo asked in fear.
“Well, how can you forget, dear Monsieur de Bezmo,” said d’Artagnan affectionately. - After all, I showed you the King’s order!
- Order from the King? — Bezmo asked in bewilderment. - About what? Lately, some kind of leapfrog has been going on with these orders.
- What do you have in mind? - asked the captain.
- Nothing, nothing! - Bezmo realized, remembering that the mistake that happened with the prisoner Marchiali should be forgotten once and for all, and under no circumstances should it ever be mentioned. - Well, by the way, you and Mr. Fouquet came to conduct an inspection, and at the same time you played me with a comic order from the King to arrest Mr. Fouquet! Arrest M. Fouquet, how could he come up with such a thing! Well well!
— A joke order from the King? Are you serious, Monsieur de Bezmeaux? - asked d'Artagnan in such a worried tone that the commandant felt uneasy. “Do you think the King is in the mood for jokes of this kind?”
- But why, excuse me, you yourself said that the order was invalid! - Bezmo was surprised.
“You believe that an order for the arrest of an important person signed by His Majesty the King may in some cases be invalid,” the captain concluded. “This is a very interesting point of view, and you know, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, with such views on the orders of the King, your position as commandant of the Bastille becomes somewhat ambiguous.”
- But let me! - Bezmo exclaimed. “You didn’t allow me to carry out His Majesty’s order, because you shoved me into a cell and locked me up!” From this point of view, I am innocent, while you, Mr. Captain...
“Monsieur de Bezmeaux, read this,” said d’Artagnan coldly, pulling out a sheet of paper folded in four from his bosom.
- What is this? - Bezmo asked absentmindedly, but barely looking at the signature, his face changed.
“Read it aloud, my dear de Bezmo.” - the captain of the musketeers said affectionately. - Mister Fouquet will be extremely interested in listening to the contents of this document, and very instructive.
Then the surprised Bezmo read aloud the following document:

“The actions of the captain of the musketeers d'Artagnan regarding the commandant of the Bastille, M. de Bezmo, were carried out in full accordance with my order. M. Brigadier General Fran;ois de Montlaisin, Marquis de Bezmeaux receives an increase of one thousand livres a year.
Louis."

“You should have seen Colbert’s face when I went to the King without a report, handed him a paper that this scoundrel didn’t even manage to look at, and when the King, barely looking at it, signed it without talking.”

Bezmo, who, indeed, held the rank of brigadier general, but did not forget for a second that the rank of captain of the royal musketeers is practically equivalent to the rank of marshal of France, having understood the meaning of the text he had read, bowed deeply to d'Artagnan.
“Come on, de Bezmeaux, what kind of ceremony is this between two colleagues, two former musketeers of M. de Treville!” - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Mister Fouquet is bored.
All this time the superintendent remained silent, stunned by what was happening.
“Nothing, nothing,” Fouquet joked. - I'm not in a hurry.
“It’s a pity to part with you, dear Mr. Superintendent,” the captain objected, “but, believe it or not, I’m in a hurry this time.” Monsieur de Bezmeaux, receive a guest. Of course, additional maintenance will be assigned to this prisoner, but also remember that you must feed Mr. Superintendent very well and provide him with an excellent bed and other household amenities, because he has paid for his stay at your hotel in advance for a very long time, it seems to me that something like half a million.
— Paid half a million? - Fouquet was surprised.
— Did you pay for your stay? Half a million? - repeated de Bezmo.
- Of course, of course! - D'Artagnan smiled. - Remember that same ring with a magnificent diamond that M. Fouquet dropped in the guardroom? You intended to return it to Mr. Superintendent, but now, perhaps, he would prefer to receive the value of this stone by services that provide him with relative comfort, right? - with these words d'Artagnan addressed both interlocutors.
“Of course, I remembered about this ring, but somehow the opportunity never presented itself,” muttered Bezmo.
- D'Artagnan, you are an amazing person! - exclaimed Fouquet. “What an ass I was that I didn’t see you right away!”
“You are repeating yourself, Mr. Superintendent,” the captain said sadly. “You apparently drew the comparison to this venerable animal from your friend M. Lafontaine.” I believe that he would not like it that you try on such comical images of his magnificent fables for yourself. After all, your coat of arms depicts a squirrel.
— If you please, I will offer a more accurate comparison. All this time I was a disguised peacock, imagining myself to be something out of the ordinary, whereas in reality, when I was stripped of all my feathers, it turned out that I was just a plucked rooster.
D'Artagnan looked at Fouquet with the deepest sympathy and thought: “This time he has found a very accurate comparison, poor Fouquet.”
- Dear Marquis! - the captain turned to de Bezmo. “Our literary discussion is now over, and you can begin your duties.” I guarantee that this time I will not go to see you off, but will wait for you here in your office. Take the King's order, file it in your journal, and do not treat papers with this name so lightly in the future.
Bezmo took out the keys and turned to Fouquet:
- Let's go, monsignor.
“Yes, yes, let’s go, finally,” Fouquet agreed. - Farewell, captain, and thank you for everything!
- Farewell, monsignor, or perhaps goodbye. I wish you a good rest from your labors. - answered d'Artagnan and firmly shook the superintendent's hand.

XXXIV. Prince

When Bezmo imprisoned Fouquet in a cell, he returned to his office.
“Well, Monsieur d'Artagnan, this time you have brought a truly noble prisoner,” he said.
- Who will be assigned a decent salary? - the captain picked up. - This is true, but your overall balance will not increase.
- How is this so? - Bezmo was surprised.
“I brought you one prisoner, and I’m taking the other,” explained d’Artagnan and placed the next order of the King on the commandant’s table.
Discouraged, Bezmo read:

“An order to M. d'Artagnan to take the prisoner Marciali, known to him, to the island of Sainte-Marguerite, after covering his face with an iron mask. On pain of death, prohibit the prisoner from removing it. Entrust the guard of the prisoner to the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, M. de Saint-Mars, under his personal responsibility, giving him the instructions enclosed here
Louis."

“The allowance allocated for this prisoner was indeed quite decent,” Bezmo sighed. - But where will you get the iron mask?
- How, Monsieur de Bezmeaux? - D'Artagnan was feignedly surprised. -Didn't you prepare it? Didn't I tell you?
“But you said that if…” Bezmo stammered.
- That's it! When! If! - the captain repeated emphatically clearly. - But you should have prepared for this “if” in advance. Is not it?
“You’re probably right, captain,” muttered Bezmo, completely discouraged. - But I somehow...
- OK then! - said the captain in a conciliatory tone. “At least I gave you a metallic-colored rag mask.” Did you save it?
- Oh yeah! - the commandant exclaimed with relief. “He wears it every time they bring him food, take away empty dishes and clean his cell.
- Cleaning, damn it! Hopefully not in his presence? - The captain frowned.
“At this time he is being transferred to another room,” Bezmo answered. - This is almost exactly the same camera.
- Fine. Let's do this. “I will take away the prisoner in a rag mask, and you, Monsieur de Bezmeaux, will order the making of an iron mask in the manner of the one in which I will take him away,” said d’Artagnan in a quiet half-whisper, as if he were a conspirator communicating with his accomplice. “You will then carefully pack it and send it to me at the Pignerol fortress by mail.” You know, I won’t have time to organize such work. Now bring the prisoner. And bring his things.
“All his things fit into a small chest,” Bezmo replied, to which the captain nodded in agreement.
When Philip appeared before d'Artagnan, it seemed to the captain of the musketeers that the King was standing in front of him.
“Come with me, you are being transported to another place,” he said coldly, after which he turned to Bezmo. - Marquis, please send the item we talked about no later than two days later.
After this, d'Artagnan picked up the chest with the prince's belongings and invited him to follow him. Having gone out into the corridor and making sure that Bezmo could no longer hear him, but that the guards in the courtyard could not yet hear him, the captain turned to the prisoner.
- Your Highness, forgive me for not addressing you with the appropriate title in the presence of the commandant.
“I understand, d’Artagnan,” Philippe answered calmly.
Having gone down to the courtyard, the captain politely opened the door, inviting Philip to sit in the carriage. After the prince took a seat in it, he sat in it and shouted to the coachman:
- We're going to Pinerol.
“We won’t wait for M. Fouquet this time?” - the coachman was surprised.
“Today Monsieur Fouquet is spending the night here,” answered d’Artagnan.
“God, may your will be done, Lord,” muttered the driver and crossed himself, after which the carriage left the gates of the Bastille and drove towards another fortress, perhaps less strong, but more distant from Paris.
The carriage passengers rode in silence for several minutes, after which Philip shuddered deeply and leaned back in his chair.
“Some kind of terrible dream,” he said quietly. - To spend your whole life in prison, after which one morning you wake up in the King’s bed and be the King all day, go to sleep like a King, fall into a deep sleep, and then wake up again in the same cell of the same hated prison!
“Do you think you were King all day?” - inquired d'Artagnan.
“But you doubt it, d’Artagnan.” - asked Philip, taking on the image of the King.
“I have no doubt at all that you considered yourself the King, and that the people you met also took you for the King,” answered the captain. - The question is different. Were you the King of France on this day?
- Why not? - the prince was surprised.
“You are a prince by birth, but in order to be a King, it is not enough to be a prince with the right to inherit the crown of France,” the captain explained. “The king rules the country, and not only receives relatives and nobles in his office, not only destroys pates, and not only extends his hand to kiss men and women.
- Didn't I rule? - asked Philip.
— What decrees did you issue, Your Highness, when you felt like Your Majesty? - asked the captain.
“I canceled the order to arrest Fouquet and was going to take other important actions,” the prince answered embarrassedly.
“But the order to cancel Fouquet’s arrest was signed not by you, but by the Bishop of Vannes,” objected d’Artagnan.
- How did you find out? - the prisoner was surprised.
“ You did not have enough time to study the King’s handwriting and learn to sign orders exactly as your brother did, while the Bishop of Vannes was very successful in learning practical calligraphy,” d’Artagnan explained his guess.
“It doesn’t matter,” Philip muttered uncertainly. - Over time, I would learn...
“Over time, we would learn to sign documents like your brother’s handwriting, we would learn to understand Spanish, we would learn to rule the country, we would learn to behave like a king in secular society,” the captain picked up. - All this over time. But you didn’t have time for that. Listen, did the Bishop of Vannes, by any chance, tell you that he will be your faithful adviser in everything?
- Yes, I did, how do you know? — Philip was surprised again.
“It’s too long to tell how I know the Bishop of Vannes,” the captain smiled. - I know him, believe me, quite well. He promised to guide your every step, made a verbal agreement with you about his fate, about the fate of Fouquet and du Valon, about the fate of Colbert and, apparently, about me. It `s naturally. Tell me, was he with you all this day?
- Only in the morning! - exclaimed Philip, struck to the depths of his heart. “After that, he disappeared somewhere, and no matter how much I demanded to bring him to me, he was nowhere to be found.
“Suppose he had good reasons for his absence,” continued d’Artagnan. “You were helpless without him.” What kind of King were you? You were an image of the King, a parody of the King, a puppet. Were you satisfied with this role?
“I was free, I was not in a dungeon,” Philip said uncertainly. - It's better than the Bastille.
“And much more dangerous, both for you and for France, as well as for all the people near the throne,” said d’Artagnan edifyingly.
- What is my mistake? - asked Philip.
“You took the throne not when you were ready for it, but when it was needed by a person capable of extracting you from the Bastille and carrying out a daring plan to kidnap the real King and take his place with you. - answered the captain.
- How could I prepare for this mission? - Philip asked again.
“I won’t tell you this, because you’re unlikely to get a second chance.” Although, if I was going to do such an audacity, I would at least read at least two books. Firstly, the history of France and its surrounding countries, at least for the last twenty to thirty years. Secondly, it would not be amiss to read a small book by Messire Nicolo Machiavelli. Thirdly, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to learn to at least understand Spanish, or at least read. For example, I found an interesting book in M. Fouquet’s library. Please note that there are chapters on the history of France, Italy, Spain, England and Holland, as well as the work of Machiavelli that I mentioned. But, for example, the publication of the same book in Spanish. I’m curious why Mr. Superintendent needed exactly the same book in Spanish? I was going to ask him about this, we had a short trip together in this carriage, but we were distracted by conversation, so I did not satisfy my curiosity,” with these words d’Artagnan casually threw both books onto the seat opposite.
- Listen, Your Highness! - he said. — I'm tired and intend to take a short nap. I advise you to do the same. And don't try to escape. I sleep very lightly, the doors are locked, the windows are barred.
After these words, the captain raised his collar, pulled his hat down on his forehead and fell asleep almost instantly.

At the first postal station, d'Artagnan changed horses, but ordered that the superintendent's horses not be given to anyone.
- Personal order of the King! - he said, showing an envelope with an inscription in the king’s hand.
The road was long, the carriage stopped at taverns only for the night and for lunch. In these cases, Philip had to wear a mask. The captain demanded a separate office for himself and the prince, while the superintendent's coachman ate in the common room.
Inside the carriage , d'Artagnan allowed the prince to remove his mask. Throughout the long journey, the captain enjoyed a new sensation: he saw the King’s face in front of him, heard the King’s voice, but did not encounter such categorical arrogance that sometimes came from Louis.
“The idea of Aramis was magnificent,” thought the Gascon, “but its implementation brought only innumerable troubles to everyone - Aramis, and Porthos, and the unfortunate prince, and the King, and especially Fouquet. No, that’s not how I would have taken on this matter!”
During this trip, d'Artagnan's right mustache experienced all the vicissitudes of his master's deep thoughts.
Philip turned out to be an intelligent and even quite educated young man, although he did not understand matters of politics and history at all, and was extremely naive in human relations.
“Of course, if Aramis had constantly been by Philip’s side as an adviser, he would gradually have been able to make him a completely decent King, but was this part of Aramis’s plans? And could he put into practice such a system in which all the orders coming from the King were actually written by Aramis? - d'Artagnan asked himself and did not find an answer that he liked.
For this reason, all the conversations between the captain and the prince concerned mainly ordinary human relations. D'Artagnan learned a lot about the young man's life and even managed to fall in love with him with his father's love, which he did not want to admit to himself. “I know this face, this voice too well, I am used to honoring this man and obeying him in almost everything,” he said to himself. “This man is a usurper of the French crown, the sentence against him is fair and even very mild, however, his mildness is explained by the close relationship between the King and the prince. Besides, you can’t act harshly with the prince of the blood! The glorious Louis XIII was extremely lenient towards his brother, limiting himself to a simple expression of displeasure for such crimes for which another man would have been quartered ten times. The current King is not so attached to his relatives, however, he does not allow anything worse than imprisonment in the Bastille, even in relation to bastards of royal blood. In addition, in the town of Pignerol the air is much fresher than in the Bastille, and most importantly, it will simply be impossible to deliver a prisoner from there quickly and unnoticed.”

When the travelers arrived at the coast, d'Artagnan had to leave the carriage at the nearest inn and hire a longboat.
Transferring the prince into the longboat, the captain picked up the prince's chest. At the same time, it seemed to him that the chest had become a little heavier; he glanced over the carriage bench and made sure that the two books that he had left on it were no longer there.
“The baby will go far,” he thought to himself. “But I still don’t understand how Aramis could abandon him like that and leave him to his fate?”
Upon arrival on the island, the captain demanded that the boatman deliver him a closed carriage. Since the captain paid his demands generously, there were no difficulties in carrying out his orders. All this time the prince was wearing a mask, but in these places the wearing of cloth masks by travelers did not surprise anyone.
As soon as the carriage hired by the captain arrived at the Pignerol fortress and drove inside, d'Artagnan opened the door and invited Philip to get out, while he himself picked up his chest, which he carefully rearranged with each change of transport.
He sharply slammed the carriage door, after which the guard and the prisoner headed up the steps of the Pignerol fortress to its commandant, Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
De Saint-Mars did not express his surprise in any way when he received a noble prisoner under his guardianship, although the fortress was not intended to serve as a prison. Any fortress can become a prison if desired, although not every prison can serve as a fortress, as the Bastille demonstrated in the time of Louis XVI , as my dear readers may remember.

The King's order stated:

“Order to Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
Delivered by the captain of the royal musketeers, M. d'Artagnan, the prisoner Marciali is to be kept with his face covered with an iron mask. On pain of death, prohibit the prisoner from taking it off when communicating or simply meeting with anyone. Violation of the order is punishable by death.
Monsieur de Saint-Mars, commandant of the Pignerol fortress, is personally entrusted with the protection of the prisoner under his personal responsibility. Any changes in the fate of a prisoner can only be made on the basis of a personal order of the King. Any communication between a prisoner and anyone is prohibited. Sending and receiving messages is prohibited. Items handed over to a prisoner to ensure his daily life, as well as items taken from a prisoner for any purpose, must be carefully inspected; if any notes are found on them, the notes are prohibited from being read, and the item with notes must be immediately destroyed.

Louis."

Looking at Saint-Mars's face, one would think that he receives such orders every day, since not a single muscle moved on his face.

- Where is the iron mask? — that’s all he asked.
- She will follow. By mail. - answered d'Artagnan - For the first time, the one he is wearing is enough. By the way, dear Monsieur de Saint-Mars. Your prisoner is quite distinguished, please treat him accordingly. He loves to write very much, calligraphy is his passion, but no one is allowed to read anything he writes, so for his entertainment, he can be provided with a pen and paper, however, do not give him ink, let him write with water. This will entertain him, but will not cause you any trouble. However, even in this case, all papers that have at least some traces of notes are supposed to be burned without reading. Do you have an illiterate person for such cases?

“We’ll find it,” Saint-Mars nodded.
“As for the mask,” the captain added. “I’m afraid he won’t be able to eat or sleep in it.” But he is forbidden to look out the window without a mask, as well as to be without a mask when food is brought to him or his room is being cleaned. During this time he should also remain silent and no questions should be asked of him.
“I will deal with these problems,” Saint-Mars replied. “We must combine a respectful attitude towards the prisoner, concern for his physical health and comfort with the task of ensuring that not a single person, including me, sees his face or communicates with him.”
“You are an amazingly intelligent man, Monsieur Saint-Mars, which explains to me why His Majesty entrusted this mission to you,” the captain answered and smiled across the entire width of his Gascon face.
-Will you dine with me, Mr. Captain? - Saint-Mars will ask.
- Definitely! - answered d'Artagnan. - I’ll have dinner and breakfast. And probably more than once. I must stay here until the mask arrives and ensure that the King's orders are strictly followed. This is not out of distrust of you, dear Saint-Mars, but only in accordance with the instructions of the King. But now I would prefer to take a walk and look around the area. Sorry, the habit of an old warrior is disposition first of all. Although I, of course, have already been to these places, but places change over time. What time do you expect me for lunch?
“In an hour it will be the best time for lunch,” replied Saint-Mars.
“I completely agree with you and submit to the local regime,” the captain smiled.

XXXV. Letters on a plate

After a short walk, d'Artagnan returned to the fortress and appeared for dinner at the strictly appointed hour.
The dinner was pleasant, the wine suited the captain's tastes. I know that my readers will be surprised that I do not describe the menu for this feast. It’s true, I have departed from the tradition of detailing the menu of each feast in which significant events take place, but for this, blame not me, but my little tormentor, who was mentioned in the introduction of our novel. I still have her words in my ears: “You describe the menu of every lunch and dinner in such detail, as if you were not a dramatic writer, but a restaurateur. Are you probably constantly hungry? Even the feasts of Lucullus are not described in such detail, although the whole of ancient Rome talked about them. I skip these passages without reading.” Well, the little wretch who completely captured my heart when I listened to her, whose words still remain for me the sweetest music of the heart, although it no longer beats so reverently, but only plunges me into the sweet languor of memories of happiness that was not perhaps due to such a huge age difference, but which is still sweet to think about. Perhaps I could be her uncle, and she would be my first reader and first critic of my modest works. As you can see, I cannot do without lyrical digressions, and if I do not describe the treats of my heroes, then I am carried away into even more distant discussions, forcing me to be distracted from the events I describe.
So, in the middle of dinner, a servant entered the room, whose face showed a whole range of feelings, from confusion to embarrassment.
- Mister Commandant! - the servant reported. — The external security sergeant wishes to report an emergency!
- So why doesn’t he come in and report? - Saint-Mars was indignant.
“You have a guest...” the servant answered in an even more embarrassed tone.
- Do you see how they serve me? - Saint-Mars burst out laughing. “These idiots think that they have done me a service by trying to hide something from you, captain, but at the same time they are doing it so ridiculously that it is no longer possible to hide anything!”
“It was Mr. Sergeant who ordered this to be reported in this form,” the servant began to justify himself.
“It looks like he wants me to exclude him from the list of idiots,” Saint-Mars winked at d’Artagnan.
“That’s why I don’t keep servants,” the captain smiled. “I had the only servant, more of a comrade in all military campaigns than a lackey.” But now I prefer to deal only with soldiers. They always clearly know the ranking. - Dearest! - he turned to the servant. - The title of idiot is not revoked for those who tear the commander away from the meal, reporting that an emergency has occurred, but without telling what its essence is and what the reason for the urgency is. Having said “a”, already say “b”. In addition, in the presence of a senior sergeant, the sergeant should have addressed not the commandant, but me. And he didn’t want this, because he wasn’t sure that the event, which we can only guess about for now, must first be reported to the commandant so that he could decide for himself whether it was worth introducing the distinguished guest to it. That's why he sent you. You should have come up and whispered into the ear of Monsieur de Saint-Mars the information that you blurted out. Communication between a footman and his master is not necessarily made public, while a report from a sergeant to the commandant in the presence of His Majesty's envoy, the captain of the royal musketeers, is a violation of subordination.
“In the competition for the title of idiot for today, Jacques, my dear, you won,” Saint-Mars concluded. “And Mr. Captain explained everything very clearly, please don’t be offended, and here’s a louis d’or as a consolation.” Call the sergeant.
“A prisoner who arrived today threw a silver dish out of the window of his cell,” said the sergeant who entered.
- Where is it? - the captain asked sharply. - Who raised it?
“We didn’t dare raise him, but we posted a guard who wouldn’t let anyone near him.”
D'Artagnan jumped out from behind the table, grabbed the scabbard with the sword from the hook, and in the blink of an eye rushed to the place of the extraordinary find.

At a distance of twenty steps from the window of the royal prisoner, located in one of the towers of the fortress, the captain found four guards who had grabbed a gray-haired man. Two of the guards pointed loaded muskets at him. D'Artagnan made a sign that they should not shoot until he had dealt with this old man.
Coming closer, the captain froze with horror, recognizing the old man as Grimaud.
- Wait, you idiots! - he said with feigned indifference. “If you’ve already missed our guest’s attempt to make himself known, don’t miss the opportunity to deal with this accomplice.” Did he manage to pick up the dish?
“We don’t know,” answered the sergeant. “We saw a dish fly out of the window and ran to pick it up.” When we ran up, this man was nearby.
“Well, it may well be that this is an accomplice,” said d’Artagnan thoughtfully. “But we need to look into it.” You should not kill an innocent person, but under no circumstances should you let a conspirator go free. Who are you? - he addressed Grimaud loudly and emphatically.
In response, Grimaud only patted himself on the sides, after which he pointed his finger to the sea.
— Maybe it’s just a local fisherman? Look how he smells like fish. Of course it's a fisherman. Listen, old man, can you even talk? - With these words, d'Artagnan looked expressively into Grimaud's face and raised his left eyebrow.
Grimaud feigned the highest degree of idiocy and muttered something completely inarticulate.
“It looks like he’s deaf and dumb,” exclaimed the captain. “But we need to check whether he’s faking it.” Sergeant, he can’t see you right now, shoot in the air behind him, and we’ll see if he’s as deaf as he seems.
The sergeant fired his musket almost right above Grimaud's ear, but the old man only continued to smile with the most idiotic look.
At this moment Saint-Mars joined them.
- What happened? - he asked d'Artagnan.
“What happened is that you were in no hurry to deal with this incident,” the captain replied, “but this time maybe it’s for the better.” Your people intended to kill this poor fellow. The intention is laudable, but in this case it would be senseless cruelty. “He’s deaf and looks like he’s mute,” the captain replied. “I don’t think he can read, but we need to make sure.”
With these words, d'Artagnan drew the question "Who sent you?" on the sand with his sword. and pointed Grimaud to this inscription.
Grimaud looked in surprise at the tip of the captain's sword, then at the letters, then back at the sword, then laughed wildly and began to circle around the words in the sand.
Then d'Artagnan wrote "Your tongue and ears will be cut off!" and again invited Grimaud to familiarize himself with the inscription. Grimaud squatted down and began carefully tracing the letters with his finger, which he was completely unable to do, while he hummed something joyfully.
“Well, it’s quite clear that this is a local idiot whom the fishermen took on fishing, taking pity on him, but he apparently ran away from them,” concluded d’Artagnan. “We don’t need excessive cruelty, especially in relation to a deaf-mute, God deprived him anyway.” However, it is possible that he was sent to pick up this dish on purpose. Sergeant, let him go, but as soon as he moves away, send one of these three to quietly observe him. If he has accomplices, we will find out quickly, and then he will be in trouble.
With these words, d'Artagnan picked up a dish from the ground, which lay upside down. The captain saw an inscription on the inside of the dish.
- How many of you have read what is written here? - he asked sharply, turning to the guards.
“We just approached and didn’t touch him,” the sergeant answered for everyone.
- Your happiness! - the captain sighed with visible relief, hiding the dish under his cloak. - Wait a minute, let me take a look.
With these words, he began to examine the sand around the place where the dish lay with emphasized attention.
- You are right, gentlemen! No one approached this dish! The sand around it is smooth, three meters from it there are no traces except mine. Well, lucky you all! And this deaf-mute too. Sergeant, stop watching. Let him get away with all his might, but if he comes within a musket shot of the fortress again, shoot. Once it could be an accident, twice it could be a conspiracy. Do you understand everything?
Saint-Mars looked sternly at the sergeant and the three soldiers, after which all four stood up and clicked their heels.
“And now everything is in place,” said d’Artagnan and waved his hand. “And make sure that nothing else falls out of the windows of this castle, not a single object, otherwise someone’s head will fall to the ground after it.”
After these words, d'Artagnan turned with dignity and headed towards the fortress.
Grimaud continued to trace the letters in the sand with his finger.
- Get out, you idiot! - the sergeant shouted and pushed Grimaud with his foot. “Drive him away to the sea and return to your post,” he turned to one of the soldiers.

After dinner d'Artagnan said to Saint-Mars:
“Mr. Commandant, apparently, a messenger will soon arrive to me with the King’s secret order.” He won't say that he brought a package, he will only ask where he can find me. Don't ask him anything and don't answer any of his questions. Just take him to me. If he arrives at night, wake me up immediately if I am sleeping, and besides, I ask you to feed him and provide him with accommodation for the night as your most dear guest. And warn the guards to let this person through and not to shoot at him out of fear.
- Are you expecting him at night, Mr. Captain? - Saint-Mars was surprised.
“I do not exclude this, since for this person, when he travels, the concept of “night” does not exist,” answered d’Artagnan.
- Do you know his name? - asked the commandant.
“I know all his names,” answered d’Artagnan. “He will introduce himself to you as Count de La F;re, but to me he’s just Athos.”

XXXVI. Meeting old friends

Since d'Artagnan slept very lightly, there was no need to wake him. He heard the doors slamming, immediately jumped out of bed, pulled on his pants, jacket and boots, belted himself with a sword belt and within a minute and a half left his room.
In the commandant's doorway, as he expected, he met Athos.
- Thousand devils! - he exclaimed. - Athos! There are few things in the world that will make me as happy as meeting you! Let's hug!
“D’Artagnan, my friend,” said Athos in a trembling voice. - And I’m no less happy than you! After all, you...
- Shhh! Not a word! - the captain interrupted him. “Let’s pass,” with these words he cast an eloquent glance at Saint-Mars.
Athos nodded understandingly, and the friends retired to the captain's room.
“Athos, you were looking for me,” said d’Artagnan, “and you understood that it was unsafe, so you sent Grimaud to investigate.”
“It’s all right, my friend, it’s all right,” Athos answered simply. — Looking for meetings with old friends at my age is so natural!
- When we met, our age difference was so significant that you called me son, Athos, but over the years these differences are erased! - objected the captain. - You could say: “At our age!” I also look for meetings with old friends when duty does not prevent this.
- Or when your duty of service requires it from you? - asked Athos.
- You saw Aramis and Porthos, of course! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “The road to Belle-Ile passes not far from Blois, and they made this detour to see you!” So that means Aramis told you everything.
“Only the first part of the story, and Grimaud told me the second,” Athos smiled bitterly.
“Not every servant can read, fortunately, our glorious former servants are all educated, if not perfectly, then enough to make out even clumsy scratches on silver,” the captain noted.
“Grimo is no longer my servant, but a friend,” Athos objected. “ He helped me raise and educate Raul, he is a member of my family.
“Although, as far as I know, I don’t have a son,” d’Artagnan grinned, “I also have a special kind of relationship with Planchet, I am now not his master, and he is not my servant.” And it’s the same with Aramis and Porthos!
- By the way, do you know their fate? - Athos asked worriedly.
“You were looking for me to ask about this,” suggested d’Artagnan, “however, I believe there are other reasons.” Well, I can say that some widows living near Pierrefonds and Brassier will have to shed a lot of tears...
- And you talk about this so calmly?! - Athos was horrified.
- Calm down, Athos! Our dear Porthos is alive, although he has lost a fair amount of weight,” the captain answered and gently patted the count on the hand. “Do you really think that I would joke about such a misfortune as you thought about?”
- So he’s alive! Great, what about Aramis? - Athos inquired.
“The bullet that will take Aramis away from us has not yet been cast or the sword forged, but my information about him is not accurate. I just hope he got away! - said d'Artagnan with conviction, - our abbot-musketeer is not cut out to allow himself to be killed or captured on an island with such beautiful caves. They will get the bald devil, not our Aramis!
- In this case, “they” are your troops, d’Artagnan? - Athos grinned.
“I was appointed to lead the troops nominally, but in reality I was deprived of this opportunity, otherwise our friends would have had more opportunities to hide,” exclaimed d’Artagnan with his characteristic Gascon vehemence.
- More opportunities or fewer - what difference does it make if they took advantage of them? - Athos smiled.
- And that’s true! - D'Artagnan agreed. - So, we saw each other and talked about our friends. What is the third reason for your arrival, the main one?
“I accompanied Raoul to the army of the Duke de Beaufort,” answered Athos, “on the way back I heard about a strange carriage that was carrying a strange prisoner, and I guessed that...
- Shut up, Athos! The walls have ears! - the captain interrupted him.
“I just wanted to say that I guessed that a convoy of one person on such an important mission could only happen if that person was you, d’Artagnan.”
“And you turned out to be right, dear friend,” said d’Artagnan, flattered by the words of Athos. “But people of this sort are not escorted, but escorted.”
“ Grimaud,” said Athos, after which he pointed to his lips, then to his ears and made a circle with his finger, hinting at the silver dish.
D'Artagnan put his finger to his lips and took a silver dish from under the pillow, which he silently showed to Athos. On the plate was written:
 
“I am the brother of the King of France, save me and the Lord will reward you.”

Making sure that Athos had read the inscription, d'Artagnan wiped it away with a dagger taken from his boot, after which he threw the dish on the bed.
“Not all reading is good for the mind,” he said in a playfully didactic tone. — Some texts can make you a cut shorter.
- So this is true! - Athos exclaimed.
“Aramis can be trusted in such things,” d’Artagnan nodded.
“I certainly believed him, but now this truth has burst into my life, which will never be the same again.”
“We’ll talk about this later, but now I must introduce you to the commandant of this fortress, de Saint-Mars, as the envoy of the King, who brought me a secret order,” said the captain.
“I brought you nothing except my friendship and a strong handshake,” Athos objected.
“For me this is enough, but for the commandant such a lie is necessary for salvation.” Otherwise, you would have been shot as soon as you tried to approach the castle. You understand the circumstances,” and d’Artagnan pointed his finger at the dish, which could no longer reveal the terrible secret to anyone. “You brought me an order to continue guarding the prisoner until I am recalled.” However, such an order was given to me verbally before my departure, but, damn it, de Saint-Mars does not need to know about it.
“That’s exactly how it was, dear friend, but where do we get this order?” - asked Athos.
“The order is so secret that I am not at all obliged to show it to Saint-Mars,” the captain answered simply. - But let's return to Porthos. You know, Athos, when I saw Porthos, thin and unshaven, a great idea came to my mind.
— Shave and fatten? - Athos smiled.
- Vice versa! — the captain smiled in response. - Do not feed or shave. He became almost unrecognizable, so I decided to spread the rumor that he was, in fact, dead. This would have saved him from further persecution by the King.
- Poor Porthos! - Athos sighed. - He loves to eat so much! In addition, he takes great care of his appearance.
“I told myself the same thing, so I decisively rejected the first part of my idea.” “I allowed Porthos to eat and shave, but forbade him to show himself in public,” the captain continued. “He lives in an inconspicuous tavern and is waiting for my return.” He should be quietly transported to a place where he will not be in any danger.
“Perhaps there are no such places in France,” Athos answered doubtfully.
“But in England I have a small house, given to me by General Monk, which I have never visited. “Nothing will threaten Porthos there,” answered d’Artagnan. “Besides, in England, bulls have much thicker foreheads, so Porthos will be able to practice knocking bulls down with a punch to the forehead without the risk of killing the bull.”
— How do you know so much about the thickness of the foreheads of English bulls? - Athos asked ironically.
- How could it be otherwise! - answered the captain, shrugging his shoulders. “The islands have high humidity, which makes the bones thicker.
—Did you come to this conclusion by studying the anatomy of English bulls? - asked Athos.
“I came to this conclusion by studying the psychology of the English,” answered d’Artagnan with a smile.
“There are decent people among the English,” Athos smiled.
— Decency is just one of the forms of stubbornness, as I became convinced of when communicating with Fouquet. However, he is not an Englishman,” said d’Artagnan. - Yes, God bless them all! Let's talk better about our situation! I am forced to sit here as a jailer, guarding a treasure that will not enrich me, and which I cannot carry away, Porthos is overeating in an inn locked up, Aramis was carried away by a difficult thing somewhere overseas, to England or to Spain, only you, Athos, can You can move around quite freely, but not everything is all right with you either.
“ I assure you, d’Artagnan, I am healthy and free,” Athos retorted with a soft smile.
“You are not healthy, Athos, and you are not free, and I will explain this to you now,” d’Artagnan persisted. “First of all, your heart bleeds for the fate of your son, the Viscount de Bragelonne.
“Ah, this is an incurable wound for me if the Viscount does not overcome his youthful ardor, which he mistakes for love,” Athos sighed. “I’m very afraid that his imaginary love might kill him.”
“His love was not imaginary, Athos,” objected d’Artagnan. - I already know! At his age, I myself almost died, but even now I cannot remember Constance without trembling in my voice and without tears in the corners of my eyes, but I already...
“You are younger than all of us,” Athos smiled. - Let's return to my illnesses and lack of freedom.
“Secondly, Count, you touched on a secret that I would call a deadly disease.” Thirdly, if this secret does not take your life, it can take your freedom at any second.
“You know, d’Artagnan, that even more terrible secrets do not cease to be secrets just because I am privy to them,” Athos said gloomily.
“I know that, but the King doesn’t know that,” objected d’Artagnan. — The peace of the King is more valuable than the life of one of his subjects. I would never let you in on this secret, and not because I’m afraid that you won’t keep it, but because I’m afraid that someone will find out that you’re privy to it. But I don't know how to lie to you, Athos. Anyone but you. If Aramis told you everything, and since Grimaud saw what he shouldn’t have seen, it’s not difficult to figure out the rest. Therefore, I told you everything without hesitation so that you would not try to get to the bottom of it on your own, because your attempts at investigation to hide would be much more difficult than your knowledge of the essence of the matter.
“The king knows that the four of us are friends, almost one family.” He still won’t believe that three of us know his secret, and the fourth is not privy to it,” said Athos. “What difference does it make whether I know the details or not if the King thinks I know them?”
“That’s true, although one of the three of us was not privy to this secret until he had to “carry out a long reconnaissance in order to occupy a more strategically advantageous position and prevent encirclement and subsequent capture,” so it seems. - D'Artagnan laughed.
“Did you come up with this to force Porthos to retreat?” - Athos smiled. “I never doubted your gift of persuasion, my friend, but here you have outdone yourself.”
- Well, listen to me, Athos! - answered the Gascon. “I will need this gift to convince you to do as I suggest.” You will return secretly to Paris, pick up Porthos and take him to my house in England, and settle there until I inform you that the danger has passed.
“You forget, my friend, that my heart remains here, where my son has to fight.” “I will be here in France, in Blois, awaiting his return,” Athos objected softly.
“I’m afraid that upon his return he will have to look for you in the Bastille,” d’Artagnan sighed sadly.
“You got me out of there once, you’ll get me out again,” Athos answered serenely.
“I was able to convince the King that your truthfulness is not a rebellion, and that it does not threaten the peace of the King, but I cannot persuade him to forgive you for your dedication to a terrible family secret, which threatens the peace of both the royal house and all of France, and may even cause severe international upheaval.
“My friend,” Athos objected. “All my life I have done without the mercy and condescension of the King. There is no point in changing anything about it now that I am old enough to cling to freedom or life. And in my youth I would not have given up my pride for the sake of freedom, and I will not do this now. We weren’t hiding from the Cardinal and his spies, why should we care what the King, who doesn’t know us at all, thinks about us? However, he knows you, d'Artagnan, and he knows that you also own this terrible secret. Why doesn't this secret kill you?
- Yes, only because I have to be the one who kills everyone else who is privy to this secret. It is possible that when the King knows that only two people on earth are privy to this secret - he and I - he will decide that two is too many. - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“In that case, I don’t like your profession, my friend.” Besides, you yourself said that he only needs others who are privy to the secret while they are alive. This means that you should not rush to deal with these others, because it is in your interests,” Athos smiled sadly.
“It’s simply impossible to hurry even slower than I’m rushing, believe me,” d’Artagnan exclaimed. “But if I refuse this nasty job, it may be entrusted to another person who can do it better than me.”
“And yet I’m going to Blois,” Athos concluded.
“Only after a good dinner, a good sleep and a refreshing breakfast,” d’Artagnan stated firmly. - Objections will not be accepted!
“I told you that you, my friend, are great at persuasion,” Athos laughed, after which the friends went down to the fortress’s dining room for dinner.

XXXVII. Departure from the island

The next morning, d'Artagnan was informed that some musketeer had come to him with a dispatch. As soon as he looked at the envelope, the captain recognized the King’s handwriting. The letter said:

“After my orders have been carried out, the captain of my musketeers, M. d’Artagnan, must immediately return to Paris to the Louvre for further orders.”

- My exile is over! - the musketeer cried joyfully. - Thank God, the functions of a jailer have been removed from me! We can go back together, Athos!
- Together, as before, dear friend, but only as far as Blois! - Athos answered. — The air of Paris is harmful to me.
Having crossed from the island to the mainland, the friends went to the White Candles tavern, where Athos was supposed to be waiting for Grimaud with the horses.
Gray-haired Grimaud had been looking out for the count since the morning, and, as soon as he saw him in the distance, he cried out joyfully and ran to meet him.
“Waiting,” he said, pointing to the tavern.
- Friend? - Athos inquired.
Grimaud nodded, raising his left eyebrow and shaking his head slightly.
“Not a friend, but not an enemy either,” Athos concluded. - But rather a friend. Is this the Comte de Rochefort?
Grimaud nodded deeply and firmly.
- What could he need? - Athos was surprised. “We haven’t seen him since we arranged the escape of the Duke of Beaufort, after which our paths diverged.
“Did you arrange the Duke of Beaufort’s escape?” - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “And after that you weren’t put in the Bastille and executed for that alone?” Damn it, as soon as I found myself a master who at least does not delay my salary, all three of my friends came up with nothing better than to quarrel with him to the death!
“We really caused this little trouble for His Majesty,” Athos agreed. “ But we did this solely out of respect for the nobility of the royal blood of the Duke.”
Since Athos did not take the trouble to speak in a whisper, and since his friends had already approached the door of the inn, the last phrase was heard not only by those to whose ears it was addressed, but also by the person leaving the door. It turned out to be Count Rochefort.
“Speak only for yourself, Count,” said Rochefort, bowing in greeting to Athos and d’Artagnan. — I was guided by other reasons. They laughed at me, they considered me incapable of anything, I proved that I could still do a lot.
“A noble deed done not for noble reasons does not cease to be noble,” Athos said softly. — The Count is slandering himself. All of us nobles are loyal servants of the King, but we are also servants of his family. The Duke of Beaufort belongs to the royal house, and it was our duty to intercede on his behalf. We have completed it, and this is the end of our mission. Moreover, being free, the Duke was able to make peace with the King, so our mission can no longer be considered criminal. After all, we returned to France the commander who is so needed when France is in a state of war, even if not the largest in the history of France, but not unimportant.
“We have not completed our mission, Count, the Duke of Beaufort has not reconciled with the King, he is in great danger,” Rochefort objected. “I know from reliable sources that there are people in his army who received orders to shoot him in the back during one of the battles. The Duke was not destined to return home from this battle.
- Thousand devils! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Kanaglia Colbert! Well, just wait with me! I'll get to you!
- From what do you conclude, my friend, that the order was given by Colbert? - asked Athos.
“The king reconciled with Beaufort and even sent him at the head of a good army to fight for the interests of France. All soldiers must obey their commander. But I have already encountered a situation where in the ranks of junior officers there are persons who have received special powers signed by the King. The author and drafter of these special powers is Mr. Colbert.
- But why would Colbert, or, especially, the King, kill the Duke of Beaufort? - Athos was surprised.
- Politics, Count! - answered d'Artagnan. - Beaufort, grandson of Henry IV , and for this reason alone he is popular among the people. After his release, he not only made peace with the King, but also received the positions of Grand Master, Chief and Chief Superintendent of Navigation.
“He defeated the Turks twice, and once with approximately equal strength. This man is rapidly gaining popularity among the people, among the troops and in the eyes of the entire nobility. - Rochefort picked up.
“He becomes dangerous to the King, and, consequently, to Colbert, who bases his plans solely on his influence on the King,” concluded d’Artagnan.
“We must save the Duke,” said Athos in a tone as if he was announcing his intention to take a walk along the park path. “You, d’Artagnan, must be in Paris, you have been summoned there by the King, you cannot violate the King’s orders.”
- Thunder strike me! - exclaimed the captain, “For once I have the opportunity to serve a just cause, to expose and pin Colbert’s spies to a tree, and here I am powerless.” I have to go to Paris. But listen, I know them by sight! These are most likely the same people who had Colbert's orders on my ship. Beaufort's expedition is also a naval one, it will be two or three officers! A thousand devils, I wish to meet them in a fair fight!
“D’Artagnan, you describe their appearance to us, and we will neutralize them,” said Athos, placing his hands on the captain’s shoulders.
“I don’t want to put you in danger, Athos!” - D'Artagnan weakly objected.
“You forget, my friend, that my son is fighting under the command of the Duke de Beaufort.” For me, coming to the Duke’s rescue is not only a matter of honor and duty, but also a family matter. Any of these three reasons is enough not to think about the dangers. Besides, I'm not alone. Count Rochefort and Grimaud are with us.
“This, of course, increases your chances against a dozen spies whose faces you don’t know,” the captain muttered skeptically.
- Ten already? - Athos was surprised. -You said there were three of them?
- It's Colbert! He could give three people to watch me, and three more to watch those three, and three or four more to watch those who were watching them. And not only watch, but also, if necessary, use a sword, dagger or musket! - D'Artagnan objected.
“So there’s a fun little thing ahead,” said Athos, imitating Porthos’ voice.
- Athos, I beg you! Don't turn into Porthos! I can't stand this! - D'Artagnan exclaimed, after which the friends burst out laughing and hugged goodbye.

XXXVIII. King's Order

As soon as d'Artagnan rode to Paris, he came to the King.
Louis was conferring with Colbert about something when he was informed of the arrival of the captain of the musketeers.
A few minutes later, Colbert came out of the King's office, greeted d'Artagnan very respectfully and expressed extreme pleasure at meeting him. The captain responded in the same manner, and only the observant Planchet, who knew the captain very closely and for a long time, could have discovered that d'Artagnan's cordiality had nothing to do with his inner attitude towards this man. But Planchet was not there, so Colbert left quite pleased with himself.
Entering the King, d'Artagnan silently bowed and kissed the royal hand, which Louis kindly extended to him.
“Monsieur d'Artagnan, I am glad to see you,” said the King. “You completed the last two assignments impeccably.”
“I am only a servant of Your Majesty,” the captain answered with dignity and bowed.
“I remember this,” Louis continued softly. “But I also remember that you are not very diligent in following my orders when it comes to your so-called friends.”
“In Your Majesty’s service, all orders have equal force for me,” answered d’Artagnan, who did not believe himself at that moment.
“ Let’s assume so,” agreed the King. “Last time you explained to me the reasons for your failure in your first attempt to carry out my order to arrest the Bishop of Vannes and Baron du Valon.” You explained to me that the execution of my order was prevented by officers loyal to me, who were entrusted with protecting you from irreparable mistakes. Well, I can accept this explanation and give you a second try.
D'Artagnan bowed and prepared to hear the order to go after Aramis. “It’s okay,” he thought, “I’ll be assigned to chase Aramis around France, where he’s been gone for a long time. I will travel at the expense of the King, I will return with nothing, I will only need to collect evidence of my diligence in his search.”
“As you know, Mister Captain, a villainous attempt was made on my highest person. The conspirators intended to take advantage of the external characteristics of a person whose existence is a constant threat to the tranquility of France, continued the King. “Besides me and you, this person himself, as well as Mister Fouquet, are privy to this secret.” Both of these people are placed in places where they cannot profit from this secret and harm the peace of the state.
- Exactly so, Your Majesty! - answered d'Artagnan.
“At this moment I do not ask for your consent or approval of my words. Actually, I never ask for this,” the King said coldly. - Just listen and remember.
D'Artagnan bowed again to the King, but more dryly than before, indicating the bow only by tilting his head and shoulders.
“There are still several people whose knowledge greatly hinders us from ruling France, since this excessive knowledge will remain a constant threat to the state as long as these people remain at large.
“He orders Aramis to be arrested, I was right,” thought d’Artagnan. - Well, I'll go. This is not the first time I have received such orders.”
“Even people in whom we have the highest confidence do not know what people in whom we have no confidence know!” - exclaimed the King, fueling his anger with this phrase. - However, this does not apply to you, captain.
D'Artagnan bowed to the King, this time somewhat deeper.
“I entrust you with one important matter, captain,” said the King, “just don’t ask me for a written order.” Your receipt of the Marshal of France baton will depend on completing this task. Now listen to me, captain, very carefully.
D'Artagnan became wary and this time limited himself to giving his face as serious an expression as possible with his mustache dashingly curled upward.
“You are tasked with collecting and bringing me irrefutable evidence of the death of my next enemies.” This is, firstly, the Bishop of Vannes, Monsieur d'Herblay, also called Aramis. Secondly, Baron du Valon de Brassier de Pierrefonds, also called Porthos. Thirdly, this is the Count de La F;re, also called Athos. Fourthly, this is the Vicomte de Bragelonne, who calls himself the fianc; of Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de La Valli;re.
—Will you order the arrest of these persons? - asked d'Artagnan, pretending that he did not quite hear the King's order.
“You have already received orders from me to arrest three of these four,” Louis answered coldly. “Your execution of these orders does not satisfy me.”
“If Your Majesty is dissatisfied with my service, I already had the honor to ask for my resignation,” D’Artagnan recalled.
“Resignation from public service, captain, does not provide the opportunity to disobey the King.” Whether as a captain of musketeers or as a private citizen, you remain a subject of the French Crown, a subject of your King, and are obliged to carry out his orders. If you prefer to carry out this order as a private individual, I will not object, but I think that the captain of the royal musketeers is better equipped for this assignment.
“I do not insist on resignation, Your Majesty,” said the captain, feeling the truth of the King’s last words.
“The right choice, captain,” answered the King. - I'll give you a month.
- May I go and do it? - asked d'Artagnan, intending to think about how he could save his friends.
“Don’t rush,” Louis said coldly. “I haven’t yet said that the officers loyal to me will protect you from the mistakes that you almost made while carrying out my instructions related to the trip to Belle-Ile.” If you try to send a letter to any of your friends, the letter will be delivered to me. If you try to send a messenger, that messenger will be brought to me. If you try to help your friends escape, both your friends and yourself will be brought to me.
D'Artagnan bowed with just a movement of his head.
- If I receive evidence that you intended to evade the execution of my order, or if in a month, counting from this very minute, I do not receive from you irrefutable evidence of the death of all the rebels I indicated, or if I learn of an attempt on your part to free the prisoner Castle Pignerol, I will sign this order.
With these words, the King handed the captain a paper, on which d'Artagnan read the following text with horror.

“Order of the King to Marshal Antoine III de Gramont

Immediately arrest, without entering into negotiations, or kill the following state criminals guilty of high treason:

Bishop of Vannes, Monsieur d'Herblay,
Baron du Valon de Brassier de Pierrefonds,
Count de La F;re,
Viscount de Bragelonne,
Captain of the Royal Musketeers, Mister d'Artagnan.

I deprive the named persons of the title of nobility, all ranks and their wealth, which must be transferred to the Royal Treasury.

To carry out this order, Marshal Antoine III de Gramont is authorized to attract any officers and soldiers, both land and sea, throughout France.
Any citizen of France who knows about the whereabouts of these criminals and has not reported this to Marshal Antoine III de Gramont personally or through his subordinate officers shall also be considered a state criminal and deal with him in accordance with this order.

Louis"

- You read? - asked the King.
“I read it, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan, turning pale.
“Read it out loud again,” Louis said coldly. “I must be sure that you have received the contents of this document in full, without any exceptions.”

D'Artagnan read aloud the document offered to him in an even, calm voice, as if it were talking about some rebels unknown to him, about whom he had nothing to do.

“Take this draft for yourself,” said the King. “I advise you to re-read this order every night before going to bed and every morning the next day so that you do not have the false impression that anything is missing here.” You have enough time, but not so much that you waste it in vain. But you've already lost ten minutes.
D'Artagnan bowed and headed towards the exit.
- Just a minute, captain! - exclaimed the King. - Know also that if you put a bullet in your forehead, or accidentally fall on your sword, or, perhaps, you are killed in some ill-timed duel, then I will still sign this paper. If you fall ill with any serious illness, or accidentally receive any wound, in a word, if your state of health does not allow you to carry out my verbal order, then in this case I will sign this written order as soon as I find out about your illness. Now go.

 
XXXIX. Planchet's idea

D'Artagnan left the King's office in complete despair. The king provided for everything. This time, what appeared before d'Artagnan was not the young boy whom he had once defended from the rebels of the Fronde, and not the inexperienced youth who had gratefully absorbed the advice of an experienced warrior. He was a sober-minded, fully established politician who defends himself and his power, stopping at nothing. He even foresaw a suicide attempt, which d'Artagnan, of course, would have thought about, but he had not yet even had time to consider this option of saving his friends when it turned out that this was not an option at all, that it would not give the desired result. Any attempt by d'Artagnan to save his friends seemed doomed to failure. Invisible spies were watching him. He could not warn them by mail or send a messenger.
The king entrusted this matter to him because he was convinced that only he, d'Artagnan, would find his friends easier and faster than anyone else. As soon as he finds them, Colbert's bloodhounds following him will also find them, capture them and take them to the King, who, of course, will be deaf to any pleas. Or it is possible that they are tasked with killing his friends right away. Of course, with a sword in hand, it would not be easy for them to defeat the brave musketeers, but a treacherous shot in the back could end the lives of their beloved friends, and d’Artagnan could not allow this.
Without noticing where he was going, d'Artagnan came to the shop of his former servant Planchet.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan! - exclaimed Planchet. - How glad I am to see you here! Come in, settle down! You know that you can have lunch, breakfast and dinner with me whenever you want and completely free of charge!
“ A great opportunity, dear Planchet, especially since I never take advantage of it,” answered the captain of the musketeers. “But I shouldn’t have come to you.” I myself don’t understand why I did this.
- What are you saying, Mister Captain? - Planchet was horrified. - Has my home and my hospitality become a burden to you?
“I’m being watched, my friend, but I can’t identify these people, that’s the thing,” answered d’Artagnan. “Now they will be watching you too.”
- What a miracle! - Planchet waved him off. “Weren’t the cardinal’s spies watching us?” And these spies are no match for those spies. You forgot that I am very experienced in conspiracy, because I participated in the front!
“Yes, you’re a master at hiding, I remember how cleverly you hid from my orders,” d’Artagnan laughed.
“Listen, Mister Captain,” Planchet said unexpectedly seriously. - Here's the key to the first room on the second floor. Go there and relax. In ten minutes your lunch will be brought to you. In twenty minutes I will come up to you and we will decide what to do.
“I have absolutely no appetite, my friend Planchet,” d’Artagnan waved him off.
“You complained that you were being followed, which means you were planning to take a trip that those who installed this surveillance should not have known about,” Planchet said. “Well, we’ll deceive those who are watching you so that you can go where you need to go without interference.” And before a long journey you should always eat, because on the way you don’t know when and where else you will find a decent lunch.
“There is a lot of truth in your words, dear Planchet,” agreed d’Artagnan. “I think my appetite has already returned.” Tell me to carry what you have for this case and give me the key here.

After d'Artagnan had destroyed the roast partridge and half a bottle of Burgundy, Planchet entered the room.
“Mr. Captain, my boys, who serve in the kitchen and other minor affairs, have discovered that three officers are watching you at different ends of the street, blocking all your escape routes,” he said.
- Only three! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “Shouldn’t I string them one by one on my sword?” However, nonsense, Colbert will send three more, or thirty-three, if he deems it necessary.
“I also thought that we wouldn’t achieve anything through bloodshed,” Planchet agreed. - Listen to what I came up with. I have a helper, his name is Francois. He is the same height as you, his gait also resembles yours. One day I saw him from the back and decided that it was you, and when I discovered that I was mistaken, and it turned out that he was looking for work, I decided that this was the finger of fate, and immediately took him to the stable. I reasoned that the Lord created such a similarity in figure, posture and height for something.
- Brilliant, dear Planchet! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Call him quickly!
“You will exchange clothes, and he...” Planchet continued.
- Yes, my friend, yes! We will send him on the longest journey, but not longer than a month. - continued d'Artagnan with enthusiasm. - Call him!
- Francois, come in! - Planchet shouted, the doors opened and the one Planchet was talking about appeared on the threshold.
“The nose is too big, and the mustache is too black, mine is already completely gray,” noted d’Artagnan, “If you put a mask on your face like the one I recently had, then even Aramis would not distinguish him from me!”
“My Jeannette will sew a mask in ten minutes,” said Planchet, “she will only have to take your measurements.” Sprinkle the mustache with flour. As for the nose...
“Don’t tell me that my nose is the same or even bigger,” the captain laughed.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” Planchet lied without blinking an eye.
“Let Jeanette take Francois’s measurements,” ordered d’Artagnan, “and while she sews, I will give him some instructions.”
Mademoiselle Jeanette entered, made a curtsey and began to tenderly apply her tailor's yardstick to Francois's face. She took the measurements so delicately, and she herself was so young and fresh, that our captain repented that he had refused to have his face measured.
As soon as she disappeared through the door, d'Artagnan began to outline his plan.
“Dear Francois,” he said. — Do I understand correctly that you agree to make a short trip around France at my expense on my horse and in my costume?
“If these spies are not assigned to kill you,” answered Francois, “then my journey will be pleasant and educational.” If they have orders to kill you, then the journey will be even more exciting, but I am afraid of disappointing those who sent them, since not all of them will return.
- Bah, you’re a Gascon! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “You can’t confuse Gascon speech with anything, just like Gascon courage, which people from other provinces mistakenly call bragging until they understand from the holes in their skin that this is just a statement of facts!”
“Monsieur Planchet told me about you many times,” said Francois modestly, “my house was no further from yours than Mister Planchet’s house is from the Louvre.”
“In that case, dear Francois,” asked the captain, “why is such a brave young man serving in the stables, and not asking me to become a musketeer?”
“Even though my parents belong to a noble family, they are completely ruined,” Francois answered simply. “I decided to conquer Paris, starting from the very bottom.” Working for Mr. Planchet, in three months I have almost saved up for full equipment; I just have to earn enough money to buy a good horse and an excellent sword, after which I will ask to join the company of guards. This will take no more than three months.
- A nobleman serves at Planchet? - the captain was surprised.
“Monsieur Perrin is riding my two horses,” Planchet said modestly. “And we agreed that I opened him a small loan, which he could repay whenever he wanted.”
- That's another matter! - exclaimed the captain. - So, you need to train Planchet’s horses for another three months?
“Three months and a week, Mr. Captain,” the young man answered modestly.
- This will take no more than a month, since for this month, Francois, you are hired by me at a triple rate. “I will personally choose your sword and horse,” answered d’Artagnan. “And for this month I will lend you my sword, my horse and all my equipment.” You will go towards Blois along the longest road. The spies will decide that you are going to the count, let’s not say his name, confusing their tracks. This is what they expect from me. They will follow you. But halfway you have to turn and go towards the Brassier estate, also winding as much as possible. Before reaching Brassier, you will again turn towards Blois, but you will go there along a different long road. For twenty-five to thirty days you should not be given the opportunity to look at your face and hear your voice, this is your task.
“The mask is already ready,” Planchet reported. - In an hour it will be dusk, my people will go home. I ordered them all to leave at the same time and go in different directions. You will also go out with them, wearing Fran;ois’ clothes. Three spies will not be able to monitor everyone at the same time. At this very moment, Francois will leave the yard in your clothes and, spurring your horse, will rush in the indicated direction as quickly as possible.
“Three fools will rush after him, and I will head to where I should have been long ago,” said d’Artagnan. - Planchet, Francois, I am your debtor! In the meantime, here’s money for expenses,” with these words the captain threw a wallet on the table, although not too weighty, but containing enough gold, which would be enough for Francois’s two-month journey.
After this, the captain and Francois exchanged clothes and began to carry out Planchet's plan.
 
XL. Baron du Valon

“Porthos, open the door, it’s me, d’Artagnan,” exclaimed the captain as soon as he reached the door of the room in the inn, where he left Porthos to recover his health.
- Finally! - exclaimed the giant, throwing back the bolt. - I must admit, I stayed here too long!
- What do I see, Porthos! - D'Artagnan exclaimed, barely looking at the giant. “You look great, and it makes me happy, but it also saddens me!” Now anyone who knew you can easily recognize you, even from your face or from your back!
- And my beard? - Porthos asked in surprise. - Doesn't she change my appearance?
— The beard is magnificent, there are no words! - exclaimed the captain. “But there are hardly two or three more figures like yours in all of France.” Such a beard could serve, perhaps, as some kind of disguise for me, or for Athos, but with your figure this means is not enough.
- What could I do? - Porthos said offendedly. “I soured here without moving, and if I had still refused to eat, I would have simply finished.”
— Have you become sour without moving? - D'Artagnan was surprised, looking around the room.
“I tried to find myself at least some kind of physical exercise, but the furniture here is extremely fragile,” Porthos answered guiltily.
“You not only crushed the chairs and the table, but also broke the window sill!” - the captain burst out laughing. - What did you do with the poker?
“At first I just bent and unbent it,” Porthos answered. “On the third day it broke in half.” Then I began to bend and unbend the remaining halves.
- My God, Porthos! There are eight pieces of poker here! - D'Artagnan admired. - You're in great shape. But how can I hide you from prying eyes?
“I’m ready to change,” Porthos said modestly.
- Do you think that there will be a person on the account from whose shoulder the clothes can suit you, Porthos? - D'Artagnan asked in disbelief.
“Something tells me that if my clothes fit this man, then his clothes will also fit me perfectly,” Porthos objected modestly but with dignity.
-Are you talking about Blunderbuss? - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - How did I forget about him?
“He asks to call him Muston,” Porthos reminded.
“All that remains is to call him here,” said the captain.
“He has already been summoned and is already living in the room below,” Porthos answered.
“I asked you to refuse any contact, Porthos!” - the captain was amazed. - By God, you are like a little child! After all, Colbert's spies could have tracked you down!
“The fact is that Suzanne has...” answered Porthos. “That’s the name of the maid here.”
“I guessed it, continue,” d’Artagnan nodded.
“We have established a trusting relationship, you know,” Porthos whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
- Yes, I think so! - the captain laughed. “I hope her bones weren’t as fragile as the furniture in the local inn!”
“Suzanne’s family lives near Pierrefonds, she sends her mother part of her earnings,” said Porthos.
“And when she found out that you are the same rich baron who owns three neighboring estates...” the captain nodded.
“She treated me very kindly before she knew who I was,” Porthos objected modestly. “Of course, I don’t write poetry or play the lute, but I have some talents that might appeal to females!” - the baron added proudly.
“ I didn’t doubt that for a minute,” agreed d’Artagnan. “So, Suzanne called Muston here through her friend.
“Through my cousin,” Porthos corrected.
“So be it, through my cousin,” the captain agreed. - But his height is somewhat shorter than yours, isn’t it? By the way, where is he?
“He’ll be right up,” said Porthos and stomped on the floor three times. “You know, my poor Muston, he loves me so much and strives to be like me in everything.” Remember when I went a little too far in gastronomic terms and accidentally allowed myself to gain weight so much that the clothes made according to the measurements taken from him did not fit me?
— This is the first time I’ve heard about this! - D'Artagnan admired.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Porthos rejoiced.
“No, I already understood everything,” the captain interrupted him, “let’s return to the main line of your story.” So, Muston adores you and strives to be like you in everything. What's next? He grew up?
“Not quite,” Porthos clarified. “But he ordered high-heeled boots for himself, so when he walks, from a distance it may seem that he is the same height as me.”
“This is very useful,” d’Artagnan rejoiced. “Fate itself sends us gifts.” First Francois, then Muston!
- Who is Francois? - Porthos asked.
“More on about that later,” the captain waved him off. “Apparently, Mother Nature decided to capture our imagination this year, dear Baron, and she presents us with one double after another. First the twins, then these matching shapes.
“Which twins are you talking about, d’Artagnan?” - asked Porthos.
- Did I talk about twins?! - the captain was surprised. “No, not at all, I only said that Muston’s figure from afar may actually look like yours, if only you change your proud gait to the soft gait of a servant.”
“I’ll try,” Porthos replied. - But you said about twins. It was about the King's brother. Don't think I'm as slow-witted as Aramis thinks I am.
- Porthos, dear Porthos! I don't think you're slow-witted! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “On the contrary, I have a high opinion of your intelligence, but I thought that Aramis was not very frank with you.”
“Aramis’s frankness is as rare as apples on a birch tree,” answered Porthos. “But there are times when even the most secretive person can no longer hide his plans from his friends, if, of course, he considers them his friends,” the baron calmly answered. “What Aramis didn’t tell me, I understood by comparing the facts.” I had enough time to think, believe me. I didn't just eat and break furniture.
- Dear Porthos! - D'Artagnan admired and hugged the baron tightly.
As soon as Porthos tried to respond with an equally strong hug, d'Artagnan, taught by experience, quickly pulled back.
“Don’t forget, my friend, that my bones are only slightly stronger than these chairs and tables!” - he exclaimed and added, - these former chairs and tables.
Muston did not climb the stairs very quickly, but by the end of this conversation he was already standing in the doorway.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan! - he exclaimed. - I'm so glad to see you! After all, it was you who saved our dear baron!
- Nothing of the kind, Muston! The Baron would have saved himself, I only hastened his release a little,” d’Artagnan modestly objected, who equally did not like to feel obligated to anyone, and did not like for anyone else to feel obligated to him.
- Dear Muston, we must part again. - said Porthos. “I’m very glad that your figure is similar to mine, we will exchange clothes and I will go to Pierrefonds on business for a short time.” Later we will meet in another place, which Monsieur d'Artagnan will tell you about .
“This saddens me very much,” Muston sobbed.
“And I’m glad that Muston decided to grow a beard,” said d’Artagnan. - Tell me, Muston, how long have you been wearing it? Have you been seen like this in Pierrefonds?
“I stopped shaving since Monsieur Baron left Pierrefonds,” answered Muston. - This is more than two years.
- Wonderful! - exclaimed the captain. — Only the color doesn’t suit. Ask the innkeeper for henna; if you don’t have it, send for it immediately. Porthos, you will be red.
“I’m ready,” Porthos sighed. “If I see my lovely estates of Pierrefonds and Brassier again, I’m ready to be red.”


XLI. Testament of Porthos

Despite their disguise, d'Artagnan and Porthos, disguised as ordinary residents, left for Pierrefonds at dusk and rode all night. During the days the travelers slept, and at night they continued their journey, which, although it was not easy, passed without any special incidents. Fortunately, Porthos’ horses knew the way home perfectly.
Having stopped on the way to visit a lawyer they knew, who had inherited Mr. Coquenard’s case not without the baron’s help, and was therefore extremely grateful to him, d’Artagnan and Porthos entered his office, having previously made sure that there would be no other witnesses.
- Mister Baron! I'm so glad to see you! - exclaimed the lawyer.
“Only for a little while,” d’Artagnan clarified. — We stopped by on business and are in a hurry.
“Let me explain,” Porthos intervened. - Mr. Duvalier, as you know, I drew up a will with you.
“I don’t remember,” Duvalier said, embarrassed. “Nothing gets lost in my office.”
- On the very day when you received Mr. Coknard’s internship, don’t you remember? - Porthos was surprised. - Damn it! Did I forget to send it to you? Devilish absent-mindedness! - With these words, Porthos hit the table with his fist. A huge crack appeared across the entire tabletop.
- Don’t worry so much, dear Baron! - the lawyer hastened to reassure Porthos, who had already imagined how Porthos, in a rage, would smash all the furniture in the office into pieces. - You can record your will at any time, even at the present moment.
“Is that so,” Porthos calmed down. - No, it’s not good! After all, I have, how can I explain to you, a certain young relative.
- Nephew? - asked Master Duvalier.
“No, closer even than my nephew,” Porthos waved him off.
- So, son? - asked the surprised lawyer.
“ Monsieur Lawyer,” interrupted d’Artagnan. — As a lawyer, it is not appropriate for you to ask such detailed questions about the degree of relationship of your very wealthy client. If it is desirable for Mr. Baron to leave all his property to a young man, your job is to draw up this will and certify it, isn’t it? If Mr. Boron claims that this young man is very near and dear to him, it’s up to you to agree with this. If Monsieur Baron considers it indelicate for the son of his close friend to be called the son of Monsieur Baron...
- I got it! - the lawyer answered.
“I told him on his recent birthday that I had made a will!” - Porthos lamented. - How will I look him in the eyes when he finds out that the will was drawn up only today?
“Of course, you’re not supposed to put a different date on a will,” the lawyer said sadly.
- At least just a month earlier? - Porthos asked, taking out a heavy wallet.
- I might be wrong about the name of the month! - exclaimed the lawyer.
“Such mistakes are quite excusable,” Porthos agreed.
“But imagine how happy the young man will be!” - added d'Artagnan.
“I’ll show him the will today, and he won’t consider himself deprived,” added Porthos.
- But tomorrow the young man goes to war, think about it, my friend! - added d'Artagnan.
“A good deed will be credited to you in heaven,” Porthos picked up.
“And not only on them,” said d’Artagnan, pushing the wallet towards the lawyer.
Half an hour later, the will was drawn up and approved in all the required form, sealed and solemnly presented to Porthos. It bore a date that was a week ahead of the news of Porthos' death in the Belle-Ile fortress.
“Monsieur Duvalier,” said d’Artagnan. - Who runs the affairs of your office in your absence?
“My partner Gortier,” answered the lawyer.
- In other words, if you decide to relax on the southern coast, and, for example, tomorrow, we won’t find you here, we can completely rely on Mr. Gortier ? - asked Porthos.
“You have nothing to worry about, because I’m not going to leave anywhere,” Duvalier smiled.
“But Monsieur du Valon, in gratitude for your small service, would like you to rest for at least a week or two,” objected d’Artagnan.
“You know, of course, I wouldn’t mind taking a break, but somehow I didn’t think about it,” Duvalier doubted.
- Think about it, damn you! - Porthos exclaimed and placed the second wallet in front of the lawyer.
- Should we go right now? - Duvalier asked quietly, gently extending his hand towards the wallet.
“You will be uncomfortable at night,” d’Artagnan replied condescendingly.
“Leave tomorrow morning, at dawn,” Porthos confirmed.
 
The next day, only his companion Gortier remained in Master Duval’s office.
D'Artagnan and Porthos walked towards him with mournful steps, and Porthos covered his face with a crumpled wet handkerchief and sobbed all the time.
- Mister Gortier, if I'm not mistaken? - inquired d'Artagnan.
- Yes, that’s right, who do I have the honor of meeting? - asked the lawyer.
-You don’t recognize Muston? - the captain was surprised. - This is the manager of Monsieur Baron du Valon de Brassier de Pierrefonds!
— I don’t know him well, but I’ve heard a lot, sorry, it’s very nice to meet you! - the lawyer answered.
“There’s not much that’s pleasant here,” the captain continued. “We need to witness the death of Mister Baron.”
- Mister Baron is dead! - the lawyer cried with ostentatious grief. - What a pity. Where is the doctor's report?
- There is a written testimony from M. d'Artagnan, captain of the royal musketeers, that he discovered the crushed corpse of his friend Baron du Valon on the island of Belle-Ile in the Lokmaria cave. I am Mister Captain's orderly, Charles de Castelmore, and this, as you understand, is Mister Baron's steward. We both also testify that we were present at the identification parade.
“Well, this evidence is quite enough,” said the lawyer, “that is, it would be quite enough if not...
“No ifs,” d’Artagnan interrupted him. — Did you know that the position of captain of the royal musketeers in France is almost equal to the rank of marshal?
“I know that,” the lawyer lied, “but...
- So, an official document from the Marshal of France and the testimony of two respected French citizens are not enough for you? - asked d'Artagnan. “And you don’t believe the grief of this venerable manager, Mr. Baron?”
At these words, Porthos let out such a mournful groan that the crystal decanter on the lawyer’s table began to tremble.
— By the way, what is the fee for issuing a death certificate, Mr. Gortier?
- For a simple city dweller...
- We're talking about the Baron! - exclaimed the captain.
“Two pistols,” the lawyer answered modestly.
- Two pistoles for the baron! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Are you joking! This is an insult to his memory! Twenty pistoles, no less!
And he put it in a wallet that clearly contained the said amount.
“The document will be ready in half an hour,” the lawyer answered, covering his wallet with a document folder.
Forty minutes later, d'Artagnan and Porthos left the lawyer's office.
- So, Porthos, you are dead, and Raoul is your only heir and the owner of all your wealth. We left the King with his nose twice! - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“But the King can also take away Raoul’s inheritance and deprive him of his noble title,” Porthos doubted.
- Wait, not so fast. The king instructed me to provide four documentary evidence, one of which is in our hands. We've finished one case, three more to go. Your case was the simplest. I need to think.
“I need to eat,” said Porthos.
- Well, let's go to the tavern! - D'Artagnan exclaimed cheerfully. “At the same time, let’s remember the soul of the glorious musketeer du Valon!”
“Baron du Valon,” corrected Porthos.
- I remember! - D'Artagnan smiled. “We should remember three: Baron du Valon, Monsieur de Brassier and Monsieur de Pierrefonds!”
- So, let's eat and drink for all three! - Porthos picked up.

The next day, the friends met in a tavern not far from the road to Pierrefonds with Muston.
“My dear Muston,” said Porthos. “You should go to Pierrefonds and take care of my funeral.”
- What about the funeral? - cried the amazed manager.
“Since my body is buried under a huge stone in the Lokmaria cave on the island of Belle-Ile, bury an empty coffin in the family crypt,” Porthos explained. — Traditions must be respected and my ashes must rest next to the ashes of my ancestors.
- How dare I? - Muston stammered.
“That’s how it should be, my dear,” d’Artagnan reassured him. - Either tomorrow you bury the coffin without the baron inside and pretend that you are immensely grief-stricken, or in less than a month you will have to bury the same coffin, but with the baron inside. The baron and I choose the first option, you should simply do what your master told you, but the baron is so kind that he explained to you the reasons for his decision.
- Ah! - Muston sighed. “I am so attached to Your Lordship that this event will be heartbreaking for me.” How can I imagine that I am actually burying Your Lordship?
“My Grace forbids you to imagine this,” Porthos said decisively. “My Lordship wishes to take you with me to the place to which My Lordship will depart in the very near future.” Therefore, if you wish to depart with My Lordship, do as you are commanded.
- So you're taking me with you? - Muston will exclaim. - What should I do? If you order me to die for Your Lordship, I will not hesitate for a minute!
“This is exactly what My Lordship will order you, but only for show!” - Porthos laughed. “You can’t just leave with me without being followed by the bloodhounds of someone whose name you don’t need to know.” Remember only that you must depict death when you can find a convincing reason and depict it sufficiently plausibly. The doctor has already been warned, two hundred pistoles guarantee that he will confirm your death, after which the servants will carry you into the house. After that you can join me, I will send Suzanne for you.
- Oh, Suzanne! - Muston exclaimed enthusiastically. - Your envoy, who summoned me to Nantes!
- Take it easy, buddy! - said Porthos, feigning anger. “Haven’t you already had your eye on her?” Look, I'll rip your head off! — coming from the mouth of a giant, this threat, which is usually perceived metaphorically by everyone, sounded very credible.
- Whatever, Your Grace! - exclaimed Muston. - Everything connected with you is sacred to me!
- Well, that’s the same! - the baron burst out laughing.

XLII. Funeral of Porthos

May my dear readers forgive me, I have already described the funeral of my dear Porthos. I put my whole soul and all my talent into this description, the existence of which was confirmed to me by several publishers, and with which they assured me that I, perhaps, can occasionally boast of its presence. I have never written and do not intend to describe the same scene twice, especially if the first time it was so successful that reading it several years later does not cause me either shame for what I wrote or sympathy for those readers who spent time on reading it.
So, I refer those who are eager to know how Porthos’s funeral took place in his absence to the third book of my novel “The Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
Since d'Artagnan's presence at the funeral of a friend did not contradict the order of the King, but, on the contrary, was fully consistent with it, since in order to carry out this order the captain would have to withdraw the death certificate in the name of the King, ordering the notary to make a certified copy of it for record keeping under the will, captain openly appeared at the funeral service, where he witnessed the general grief, the reading of the will and the imaginary death of the faithful Muston, played out like clockwork.
When poor Muston let out a long cry and collapsed unconscious in front of the entire sobbing public, d'Artagnan was afraid that the poor fellow had really died. Quite sincerely, he ordered to call the doctor, and when the doctor, who had been paid in advance, announced that poor Muston had died, even the seasoned captain decided that instead of a comedy there had been a tragedy, and Muston’s heart really broke with grief. However, noticing how the little finger of Muston’s left hand was trembling, and although he played out grief and death with the greatest talent, he could not portray the dead man for a long time due to the great sensitivity of nature, often found in overweight people.
The servants picked up Muston and carefully carried him into the house, as they were told. That same night he followed his master to England, and two days later in the cemetery near the chapel they buried a closed coffin in which lay Muston's clothes, stuffed with stones and rags, representing the body of the deceased.
“The king ordered me to execute the baron, and I dealt with both him and his steward!” - exclaimed d'Artagnan, seeing Mouston returning to the tavern. “My friend, you can’t travel with us, two such giants riding together is too much of a spectacle for anyone to hope to cover their tracks.” You will go to England alone and prepare everything for our arrival. We must go to the rescue of Athos and Raoul.
-Are they in danger? - Porthos asked worriedly.
- Of course! - answered d'Artagnan. - And double!
-Then what are we waiting for? - exclaimed Porthos. - Let's go!
“We’re going,” d’Artagnan picked up and the friends headed to where Raoul sought his death, performing the duties of the Duke de Beaufort’s adjutant, Colbert’s mysterious spies were preparing a treacherous shot in the Duke’s back, Athos and Rochefort tried to get ahead of them and save the Duke from this shot, and Colbert's other spies may have been waiting for d'Artagnan to make sure that he was carrying out the King's order, or to carry out this order in his place, and then deal with him himself.

 XLIII. Need a plan

“You know, Porthos, your beard is no longer as red as it was before,” d’Artagnan noted during one of his stops at the inn.
“I don’t need to pretend to be Muston anymore,” answered Porthos. “Let her take her natural color, I don’t care.”
“We need a plan, but I don’t have one,” said d’Artagnan.
- What could be simpler? - Porthos was surprised. “We have already depicted my death, and you even have a certificate of my death.” Let's do the same with Athos and Raoul, and no one can get Aramis!
“The idea is not bad in principle, but it has weak points,” objected d’Artagnan. “It’s very dangerous to repeat ourselves, they might find out about us.” If your imaginary death under a stone did not require special preparation and went as planned, Muston’s imaginary death was not so necessary, and it may alert Colbert’s spies. Repeating the same scenes can cause distrust of the entire play. But that's not what worries me.
“What is troubling you, d’Artagnan?” - asked the baron.
“Comte de La F;re is not the kind of person to depict his own death.” “It won’t be easy to persuade him to attend the performance,” the captain said thoughtfully.
“You can handle it,” Porthos said with a serene smile. “You always come up with a plan that just needs to be implemented, and in this you can rely on me!”
“It will be even more difficult with Raoul,” d’Artagnan continued to think out loud. — The young man has become disillusioned with love and is looking for death. To suggest that he pretend to die and escape is to insult him and at the same time encourage him to take reckless actions. If we tell him that he is in danger, he will only laugh in our faces. If we tell him how to avoid this danger, he will do everything to stop us.
“Then you just need to kidnap him,” said Porthos.
- How to kidnap? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“Very simple,” answered Porthos. “You yourself told me how you kidnapped General Monk.” They grabbed him and put him in a box.
—Are you proposing to put Raoul in the box? - exclaimed d'Artagnan . - No, no and NO! This would be too much humiliation for his vulnerable heart. But you know, Porthos, it seems to me that I should start from your idea. I have a feeling that the solution is somewhere nearby. I just can’t comprehend it yet, much less formulate it. But it certainly exists.
“You can handle it,” Porthos said again.

XLIV. General of the Jesuit Order

We left Aramis on the royal ship in the captain's cabin. The time has come to tell how events developed on this ship.
Two hours of sleep was enough for Aramis to fully restore his strength. After that, he called the captain, who did not go to bed at all.
- Your name? - asked Aramis.
“D’Argenson,” answered the captain. — The fourth stage of initiation.
“From now on, d’Argenson, your level rises to the third level,” said Aramis and extended his hand with the ring of the general of the order to the captain for a kiss. “You must identify all of Colbert’s special envoys on this ship, tell me their names and bring them one by one to this office for a conversation.” You will receive further instructions directly from me, or from the person who will tell you the next password.
After that, Aramis whispered some words into the captain's ear.
“I will name two of them to the monsignor right now,” answered d’Argenson. - This is Lieutenant du Chante and Lieutenant d'Aunay.
“Invite du Chantet to me,” Aramis ordered.
Three minutes later a young lieutenant entered the room.
“Monsieur du Chante,” said Aramis coldly. - You have some orders from Mr. Colbert, I know about it.
“These orders were given to me by Monsieur Colbert, but they come from the King of France, which gives me special powers on this ship,” answered the lieutenant.
“Come on,” Aramis said dryly and extended his hand with a gesture that completely excluded disobedience.
“I am ordered to produce these documents in special cases,” replied du Chantet. “This is not such a special occasion, as far as I can tell.”
“ You cannot judge decisively about anything,” Aramis said softly, but at the same time extremely coldly. - Captain d'Argenson, come in! - he added clearly and somewhat louder.
-What would the monsignor want? - asked the captain who immediately entered the cabin.
— Repeat, please, where is this ship heading? - asked Aramis.
“Wherever Your Eminence wants,” answered the captain.
“This officer claims that he has orders from the King that can force you to cancel my orders, is that true?” - Aramis continued.
“No orders will force me to disobey you, Your Eminence,” the captain answered with a bow.
“Last question, captain,” said Aramis. “If I tell you to throw Lieutenant du Chante and Lieutenant d’Aunay overboard, what will you do?”
— Will you order them to be tied up first, or just thrown out? - inquired d'Argenson.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Aramis answered. - Thank you, go ahead.
After the captain left the cabin, Aramis continued the conversation.
“You must realize, du Chantet, that in the world and in France itself there is a stronger force than your pathetic King,” said Aramis in an edifying tone. “This power will reach you anywhere and at any time.” As for this insignificant Colbert, I don’t even want to talk about him. I can do anything to you, Monsieur du Chantet. Do you believe me?
“I believe you, monsignor,” replied du Chante. “But I’m an officer and I’m used to the thought of dying while doing my duty.”
- Is that so? - Aramis exclaimed approvingly. -Are you Catholic?
“Of course,” replied du Chantet.
— How do you feel about the Jesuit Order? - Aramis asked quietly and clearly.
“My attitude towards religion concerns only me and the Lord, you will not intimidate me,” du Chantet answered boldly.
Then Aramis made a certain secret sign, after which du Chantet’s face changed.
“I see you understand some things quite well,” Aramis nodded. “Then why do you think the captain listens to my orders and disobeys the King’s orders?”
—Are you a member of the order of the second level? - Du Chantet said fearfully.
“Take it higher,” Aramis answered dryly.
— First level? - the lieutenant stammered.
- Do you see this? - Aramis asked and showed his ring.
- Dear God! - exclaimed du Chantet. - General!
With these words du Chantet fell to his knees and kissed the stone on Aramis' ring.
- My life, my deeds, my family belong to you, take charge, monsignor! - exclaimed du Chantet.
“Stand up,” Aramis said softly. “You will tell me the names of all Colbert’s spies on this ship.”
“De Trabucon, d’Aunay and I,” replied du Chantet.
“Do you know Colbert’s spies on other ships or in the ground forces?” - Aramis inquired.
“No, monsignor,” answered the lieutenant.
“Okay,” said Aramis. - Give me your papers.
The lieutenant took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Aramis. The prelate opened the envelope and took out a document that read:

“The bearer of this, Lieutenant du Chante, has the authority to arrest or put to death the state criminals of Van, Bishop d'Herblay and Baron du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier. All civil servants and all military ranks are to assist Lieutenant du Chant in carrying out this order. For failure to provide assistance or for obstructing the implementation of this order, these persons will be held accountable to the fullest extent of wartime, up to and including execution for nobles and officers or execution by hanging for soldiers and people of ordinary rank.
 
Louis."

“Okay,” Aramis said, putting the order back into the envelope. “I’ll have this paper for now; I’ll decide what to do with it.” You will receive further instructions tomorrow morning. Go.
After du Chante left, Aramis ordered the captain to invite Lieutenant d'Aunay to his cabin.

-Are you Catholic? - Aramis asked Lieutenant D'Aunay after he entered the cabin and sat down on the chair offered to him.
“No more than is required for a quiet life in a Catholic state, and no less than what the church and the monarchy require of me,” answered the lieutenant. “But all my relatives are Catholics, and I regularly attend church.” There is nothing to reproach me with, but if you ask me to become a priest, this path is not for me.
—What do you know about the Jesuit Order? - asked Aramis.
“I know that such an order exists, but what do I care about it?” — the lieutenant answered and shrugged.
“So, you serve the King not for religious reasons, but for career reasons,” Aramis noted.
“It’s my business who I serve and for what reasons,” D’Aunay answered displeasedly. - If this is an interrogation, then first explain to me by what right you are inflicting it on me, after that I will think about whether to answer you or not.
Aramis made a secret sign, to which the lieutenant did not pay any attention.
“Did you know that I can tell the captain to throw you overboard, and he will carry out this order without blinking an eye?” - asked Aramis.
- So, you are an admiral? - the lieutenant asked calmly. - Only if I am not guilty of anything , why on earth would they throw me overboard?
“And since you have documents, based on the contents of which, you intend to start a riot on the ship,” answered Aramis. - And rebels on ships were always thrown overboard or hanged on the yardarm. Choose what you like best.
“I do not have any such documents and do not intend to start a riot,” Lieutenant d’Aunay objected, without losing his cool.
- This document was handed to you by Colbert, he gave you an envelope containing an alleged order signed by the King. In fact, this order is false. It was composed by Colbert himself, who is a state criminal, he forged the signature of the King and convinced you that this order gives you the right to command even the captain of this ship, right?
“You’re mistaken, sir, whatever your name is,” the lieutenant objected coolly.
“If you please, I will reproduce for you the text of this order from memory,” Aramis smiled. “This order says the following: “The bearer of this, Lieutenant d'Aunay, has the authority to arrest or put to death the state criminals of Van, Bishop d'Herblay and Baron du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier. All civil servants and all military ranks are to assist Lieutenant D'Aunay in carrying out this order. For failure to provide assistance or for obstructing the implementation of this order, these persons will be held accountable to the fullest extent of wartime, up to and including execution for nobles and officers or execution by hanging for soldiers and people of ordinary rank. Signed: Louis."
Lieutenant d'Aunay turned pale, but tried not to show it.
- Will you challenge it? - asked Aramis.
“If I had such an order,” he replied, “and if circumstances arose in which I would have to carry out such an order, then I would not be a rebel, but would be an executor of the royal will.”
“Provided that the order was genuine,” Aramis smiled. “But since we know that he is a counterfeit of Colbert, you become an accomplice in a crime against the will of the King, a state criminal, a rebel who must be hanged, or thrown into the sea, where there is no chance of salvation for you, especially if your feet are tied.” the cannonball is in a bag, and his hands will be tied. Agree, swimming in this position is very difficult.
“You won’t do this,” said the lieutenant, turning even more pale.
- Captain! - Aramis exclaimed.
As soon as the captain entered the cabin, Aramis asked:
“Captain d’Argenson, we talked with Lieutenant d’Aunay, and I am sending him on a diplomatic mission to the bottom of the sea,” he told the captain. “To travel quickly to his final goal, he will need a cannonball, which should be placed in a bag and tied to his feet, after which you will lower my messenger into the sea.” He won’t need the sword on the road; he’ll leave it here.
“It will be done, monsignor,” answered the captain. - Lieutenant, your sword!
- By what right?! - exclaimed D'Aunay with a squeal.
“I can cancel my order if you undertake to carry out some of my other orders that are not related to immersion in sea water,” Aramis smiled, “but first you will give me the letter, the existence of which you just denied.”
- Here it is, damn you! - exclaimed the lieutenant. “This is violence, but I recognize your right as strong and submit to your authority.”
“Thank you, captain,” Aramis replied and nodded to him that he could go. - And you, lieutenant, will stay for a couple more minutes.
“If you don’t pierce me with your sword,” D’Aunay answered cautiously.
- No, what are you talking about! - Aramis smiled. - This is of no use, you are a very understanding officer.
- What do you want from me? - asked the lieutenant.
—Your full name, D'Aunay, you say? - Aramis demanded.
“Lieutenant of the Royal Guard Jean-Pierre d'Aunay,” answered the lieutenant.
“Take paper and pen, sit down and write the following,” said Aramis, after which he began to dictate.
“I, Lieutenant of the Royal Guard Jean-Pierre d'Aunay, having met the Bishop of Van, Monsieur d'Herblay, voluntarily handed over to him an order signed by the King of France Louis XIV , handed to me by Monsieur de Colbert. By acting this way, I was aware that I was violating this order, since I considered it to be fraudulent. I undertake that in future I will not obey orders received from M. de Colbert, no matter who signed them.
Signed: Jean-Pierre d'Aunay"
“Put today’s date and your signature,” said Aramis. “If the order is forged, such a paper will prove that you are not an accomplice of the rebels and will protect you from the wrath of the King.” In this case, you will realize that I saved your life, and you will continue to serve me faithfully.
- What if the order that was given to me by Colbert, and which you took from me, is not forged? - asked d'Aunay, handing Aramis a document written under his dictation with his signature.
“Just a minute, I’ll read it to make sure everything is written correctly,” Aramis replied, reading the document.
Having made sure that everything was written exactly, he folded the document into the same envelope where the King’s order lay, hid the envelope in his bosom and asked absentmindedly:
- I think you asked something?
“I asked what would happen if the order that was given to me by Colbert, and which you took from me, was not forged?” - D'Aunay repeated again.
“In this case, you are a state criminal and are subject to execution by hanging, as stated in the document itself,” Aramis answered calmly. - What’s the matter, exactly? Why does this bother you so much?
- You deceived me! - D'Aunay exclaimed with hatred. - You ruined me! You forced me to write a denunciation against myself!
“Wait a minute,” Aramis objected. “I convinced you not to go down as my ambassador, but if you change your mind, I am ready to return to the first proposal, and the captain, as you can see, will help me with this.” You have agreed to carry out some of my instructions. “I needed a little guarantee of your diligence, since I do not intend to accompany you as you carry out my instructions.” You will always remember that if you decide to deceive me, your confession will be delivered to Monsieur Colbert along with the order that he handed you. Guess for yourself how this could end for you. If you do not deceive me and follow my instructions exactly, then this letter will remain with me as a small souvenir in memory of our acquaintance. However, my instructions will be few, they will not be burdensome for you, and after you complete them, you will be able to receive both documents at your complete disposal. Are you satisfied with this turn of events, or will we return to discussing your mission at the bottom of the sea?
- What will I have to do? - Lieutenant D'Aunay asked gloomily.
“I give you until the morning to think over all the pros and cons of the new situation in which you find yourself, and in the morning you will receive instructions on what you should do,” Aramis replied. “And I don’t advise anyone to attempt to kill me.” These documents will not be kept by me, I assure you, and if anything happens to me, they will be immediately delivered to Colbert. You had the opportunity to make sure that on this ship I have allies and assistants. Remember this: if it were possible to move to other planets, then there too we would establish our dominion, for which the earth is too cramped. Now go.

After this, Aramis had a conversation with Second Lieutenant de Trabuson.

“Monsieur de Trabuson, I would like to ask you a few questions,” said Aramis, carefully examining the newly arrived guardsman.
“It looks like you’re some kind of big shot here, as I see it,” the junior lieutenant answered rudely. - Talk to me as if I am obliged to answer you.
“So it is,” Aramis agreed. - To shorten our conversation, I will now outline his plan for you in general terms.
- Really curious! - de Trabuson agreed.
“First, I will ask about your views on some theological issues,” said Aramis, casually making a secret sign, and, noticing that this did not make any impression on his interlocutor, he continued. “On this basis, we are unlikely to find an interesting topic for conversation.”
“I suppose so,” agreed the junior lieutenant.
“After this, I will ask you to give me the envelope that Monsieur Colbert gave you, and you will refuse to do so,” Aramis continued.
“I don’t know about any envelope,” de Trabuson answered warily.
“You know about him, you’re lying to me, but I don’t care,” Aramis waved him off. - Next, I will threaten you that I will throw you overboard, but you will not believe my words, and you will do the right thing.
“You do not have sufficient power for this and you do not have the courage to decide on such a crime,” de Trabuson said uncertainly.
“I have enough power and I have enough determination to do this, but I will not do it for the sole reason that it is unreasonable,” answered Aramis. “You are not my friend, but you are not my enemy either, you are not dangerous to me, because I know your intentions and your capabilities, and I am dangerous to you, because you do not know my capabilities, and believe me, they are great, and you do not know my intentions.” , and in relation to you they depend greatly on your obedience.
“But I am not going to show obedience to you,” de Trabuson objected.
“It is precisely this question that we will now dwell on in most detail,” Aramis answered almost affectionately. “So, you declare that you will not obey my orders.” I am convinced that your intention is as solid as flint, there is no way to influence you. What then can I do with you? Simply killing is completely useless. It is better to make you an edifying example for those who will be more flexible. Knowing how I will deal with you, I believe they will make their decision to cooperate with me much easier. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. So, you will be a curious example of how I deal with intractable people. This is an example I intend to use in my future work when recruiting supporters for my mission.
- And what will you do with me? - de Trabuson asked incredulously and with some apprehension.
- Oh, don't worry about that! - Aramis exclaimed. “I’m not going to kill you, and I don’t even want to separate you from your family.”
- With my family? What are you speaking about? - exclaimed the junior lieutenant.
- Well, you probably have a wife, maybe even an adult daughter or two.
“I have a son,” replied de Trabuson.
“It doesn’t matter,” Aramis replied. - You will all go to Turkey.
- To Turkey? For what? — the junior lieutenant was surprised.
“Personally, I will place you as a eunuch in the harem of one of my acquaintances, the pasha,” answered Aramis. - I will assign your son or sons, if there are several of them, to similar positions in other harems. Don't worry, I have the means to find out exactly how many children you have and what gender. I will add your wife and daughters to the Pasha’s harem.
- By what right? - exclaimed de Trabuson, jumping up from his chair.
- By the right of the strong! Sit down, Trabuson, sit down! - Aramis said harshly. - Do you know what the right of the strong is? This is a right that has been used for a long, too long time in France by some individuals who do not think about the fate of the country as a whole, nor about the fate of the individual citizens of whom this country consists! Cardinal Richelieu executed anyone who threatened not only his power, but at least his reputation! Cardinal Mazarin robbed anyone whose money, in his opinion, should belong to him, the cardinal, and not to the one who possessed it. The Chevalier de Luigne, Marshal d'Ancres, Duchess de Chevreuse and many other favorites and favorites turned the Kings and Queens at their whim, and they used the whole people only to satisfy their greed, envy, vindictiveness, lust, voluptuousness, and other irrepressible passions . They did all this by the right of the strong. The current King, by right of the strong, takes away from the young youth the only thing he had - his pure youthful love, trampling his feelings, his honor, his life into the mud. It is no longer enough for him, like all his lustful ancestors, to take wives from husbands who have grown cold to the charms of their beloved ones, and to reward them for the ambiguous role of cuckoldry with castles, court titles and military awards; it is not enough for him to be able to imitate those same ancestors who, having amassed illegitimate children with unmarried girls, they arranged for them to marry noble idiots who, for royal favors, were happy to become honorary cuckolds and go to their family estates, remaining there and not showing their noses from there, while the royals had fun with their wives and produced bastards . Such amusements no longer seem interesting to our dear King. He prefers to take away from an honest, pure, noble young man, who is dearer to me than my own son, his only love, simply in order to have fun with her for a while, maybe have several children from her, and then remove her out of sight in some monastery to pray to the Lord for their sins and his. All this is given by the right of the strong. So, Monsieur de Trabuson, I declare to you that I am stronger than your insignificant King Louis XIV , I could throw him off the throne, like throwing a chess king off the board, I could, if I wanted, destroy him, but I was strong enough and in order to allow the work to be almost done, or finally done, to allow the destruction of all my works, to allow power to return to this insignificant person only because someone whom I respect enough to agree that his point of view on this issue may be entitled to consideration. I, who could move the King as a pawn, decided to leave him in place only because it was enough for me to be convinced that I could do it, after which I allowed myself to prove that I could not be tempted by the pursuit of illusory wealth or power, and that I am ready to listen to the will of the Lord, I am ready to follow the path that the Lord shows me, and if he gave me a sign that my path is wrong, I will not insist on my mistakes, but will agree with his will, with his choice, and I will go into the shadows, letting events take their course and develop as he decides.
“You are talking about something too terrible, but inaccessible to my understanding,” said de Trabuson, pale as a sheet.
“I said to myself: “If your plans did not come true, rejoice, it means the Lord’s plans have come true.” And I retired from business. Instead of fighting, I retreated,” Aramis said, more to himself than to his interlocutor.
“You don’t look like a humble person,” objected the stunned de Trabuson. “You give the impression of a lion who is preparing to leap, and whose leap will be fatal to his intended victim.”
- Yes, damn it! - Aramis exclaimed, grabbing from the table a porcelain figurine depicting the Magi bringing gifts to the baby Jesus. “I yielded to the will of the Lord, but the Lord took away from me my friend, whom I loved more than I ever suspected. And I will not forgive this to either the Lord or the King!
With these words, he furiously threw the figurine onto the floor with such force that the smallest fragments scattered in all directions.
“The king who deprived me of a friend will never be forgiven by me,” said Aramis. “I would forgive him for my death, if he grabbed me and ordered me to be executed, I, dying, would bless him.” But I will not forgive him for the death of my dear friend, brother, my beloved Porthos. He will pay me for this. And if you, Monsieur de Trabuson, stand in my way, I will destroy you. Not physically. I will destroy you mentally. I will turn you into dust, into dust. You will not be a man, you will be a eunuch. You will serve figs, peaches and grapes to the pasha, who will enjoy the delights of your wife before your eyes. How do you like this prospect?
“You won’t do this,” de Trabuson whispered, breaking out in a cold sweat.
- For what reason? - Aramis inquired coldly.
“I agree to serve you, just don’t do it,” said the junior lieutenant. - My God! I believe you are capable of this! Your eyes, your gaze prove this. Tell me that you will not harm my family!
“Complete obedience on your part, Monsieur de Trabuson, to me and only me, that is what will protect you from a similar fate even if someone else would want to do this to you,” said Aramis, looking straight into the eyes of his victim. . - Or…
- I understand! I agree! - de Trabuson quickly replied.

XLV. Spies of the Bishop of Vannes

The next morning, Aramis summoned all three former spies of Colbert and Captain d'Argenson.
- Captain, after you drop me off at the port of San Sebastian, you can return to completing the task assigned to you earlier. Explain your prolonged absence by saying that these people presented you with orders from the King, forcing you to chase state criminals. These are the orders.
With these words, Aramis casually threw two envelopes onto the table.
“De Trabuson had the same order, but it was accidentally torn from his hands by a gust of wind and carried into the sea,” Aramis said carefree, after which de Trabuson blushed.
“And you, Messrs. d’Aunay and du Chantet, can take your papers after the captain has familiarized himself with them,” he continued. “You, Messrs. d’Aunay, de Trabuson and du Chante, must report to Colbert all the information you have collected, unchanged, with the small clarifications that I am telling you.” First, Baron du Valon is buried under a huge stone in the Lokmaria Cave on the island of Belle Ile. This is the pure truth, you can verify this by visiting this place, I am telling you this only so that you do not waste time looking for him, however, it is up to you. Further. Secondly, the Bishop of Vannes, Monsieur d'Herblay, sailed on a longboat in the direction of England. The ship on which you are now met a fishing schooner, you questioned the fishermen, who told you that they had caught this longboat in the sea, in which Monsieur Bishop of Vannes was found dead. The cause of death was a fatal chest wound. The description of his appearance is such that he is very similar in face and figure to me, so that by describing him, you can tell him my signs. Agree among yourself about how many fishermen there were, what they looked like, what age they were, what displacement the fishing schooner was and what it was called and looked like, in what place and at what time you met these fishermen. Captain d'Argenson will confirm your testimony if necessary. So, after meeting with the fishermen, you, making sure that both persons whom you were ordered to arrest were dead, returned to Nantes. Do you understand this part of the order?
“Yes, monseigneur,” replied du Chantet.
“We understand,” answered d’Aunay and de Trabuson.
The captain bowed his head low in agreement.
- Leave us, captain. “I ask you to come see me when these gentlemen leave me,” said Aramis.
The captain nodded again and walked out the door.
“This is only half the battle,” Aramis continued to his three new spies. - First, I'll give you a test. So, Colbert will give you new assignments. It is possible that each of you will receive an individual task, so I need each of you. You will carefully remember the instructions and orders received, communicate them to me immediately, and henceforth you will regularly inform me of all Colbert’s orders. Until you receive confirmation from me or a prohibition on carrying out the tasks you have received, you will do everything in your power to create the appearance of obedience and fulfillment of these orders, but God forbid you complete at least one of these orders before you receive from I approve of this action. It is quite possible that I will require complete disobedience from you, but in other cases I will require careful opposition to the execution of orders received by you, not only by you, but by others. I can tell you to protect someone you are assigned to kill, or to kill someone you are assigned to protect. Complete obedience to my instructions and complete appearance of obedience to Colbert's instructions. Do not be afraid of anyone but me, because from now on my power over you is stronger than the royal one, and awareness of your actions will be ensured by those people of whom you are unaware. You will keep in touch with me through carrier pigeons, which you will find at one of the following addresses. These cards contain the addresses and names of those with whom you will deal. Read and remember, because I will burn these cards as soon as our conversation is over.
He placed three cards with names and addresses in front of his new agents and turned over the hourglass. As soon as the last grain of sand fell to the bottom of the lower flask, Aramis said:
- I gave you five minutes to memorize the addresses. Do you remember everything?
“Let me take another look,” asked du Chante.
“Okay, but from now on develop your memory,” Aramis answered condescendingly and turned the watch over again.
When the clock again ticked five minutes, Aramis took the cards and burned them over a lighted candle, and threw the ashes out the window leading into the sea.
- Time is over. Instructions have been given. Go,” said Aramis.
After the three spies had left, the captain returned to the cabin, which he had placed at Aramis's disposal.
“I ask you, captain, invite only du Chante to me, but only so that the others do not know about it.”
He said to du Chantet who came in:
- Du Chante, you are a brother in faith and a member of our union. I trust you infinitely. Keep an eye on the others.
“I understand that, Your Eminence,” replied du Chantet and kissed the hand of the Bishop of Vannes.
“May God bless you for a good deed,” Aramis answered affectionately and crossed the bowed du Chante.
After that, Aramis invited the captain again.
“Captain d'Argenson, thank you for your service,” he said softly. “I will leave you at the port of San Sebastian, and when I need you, I will find a way to contact you.” You have fulfilled your duty, in confirmation of your new powers of the third stage of initiations, remember the following sign and remember the following password.
After that, Aramis showed the captain a certain mysterious sign with his fingers and whispered certain words in his ear. The captain bowed, kissed the stone on Aramis's ring and his hand, after which the prelate laid his hand on the captain's head and said:
“I bless you, my son, go with God,” after which he crossed his forehead in the air.

XLVI. Candia

Meanwhile, Athos and Rochefort were looking for a long time for an opportunity to follow the Duke of Beaufort, and only after a very long search were their efforts finally crowned with success. They managed to hire a small and relatively fast ship, on which they went to the island of Crete to the fortress of Candia, where Duke Francois de Beaufort and his squadron were heading to support the Venetian Republic in the fight against the Ottoman Empire. Among the Duke's officers, as our readers probably remember, were Raoul de Bragelonne and Armand de Gramont Count de Guiche. The expedition undertaken by the Duke was intended to protect the fortress of Candia from the Turks in order to prevent the loss of the island of Crete, which would give the Turks the key to the entire eastern part of the Mediterranean Sea.
The second son of Cesar de Bourbon, Duke of Vend;me (the illegitimate son of King Henry IV and Gabrielle d'Estr;es) and Fran;oise of Lorraine, the Duke was distinguished by extreme courage and belligerence, surprisingly combined with a rather eccentric character. As a result of a conspiracy against Cardinal Mazarin, he was imprisoned in the castle of Vincennes, from where he managed to escape with the help of the Comte de Rochefort, the Comte de La F;re and Grimaud. The Duke's participation in the Fronde movement was more nominal than active. Having received the half-joking nickname “King of the Markets” from the Parisian mob, he performed the functions of that figurehead leader, whose existence gave the Fronde the appearance of meaningful resistance to power and the illusion of having an alternative to royal absolutism. Of course, the Duke himself did not even think about overthrowing the rightful King and taking his place, but he was pleased with the idea of annoying Cardinal Mazarin, who imprisoned him in the Castle of Vincennes. Gradually, and not without the help of the captain of the royal musketeers, d'Artagnan, the Fronde disintegrated on its own, just as a huge sea wave breaks on the shore, deadly for ships in the open ocean, but completely harmless after it reaches the rocky shore, having lost almost all of its strength as you advance.
After the end of the unrest of the Fronde, Mazarin again reigned in Paris, in his palace, where old age and gout finally finished him off. Having bequeathed part of his wealth to the King and leaving an equally significant part of the money he stole from France to his nieces, the cardinal finally left this mortal world, or, as some desperate heads joked, “received a final promotion along the line of the spiritual hierarchy,” to the joy of many of his enemies and, unfortunately, few of his friends. Queen Anne wiped away two tears from the corners of her eyes and quickly calmed down when she learned about the amount of the inheritance that her son Louis XIV finally received under his own hand. The king quite easily reconciled with the duke and even appointed him to several important military posts. A number of successful military expeditions secured him the position of grandmaster, chief and chief superintendent of navigation. The Duke and his fleet repeatedly proved to the Turks that France did not intend to give up its positions in the Mediterranean, which the beaten Turkish captains learned from their own sad experience. The expedition undertaken this time was supposed to strengthen the alliance with the Venetian Republic and further weaken the influence of the Turks, but the forces were unequal, and the expedition promised to be difficult.
If Beaufort had succeeded in winning this expedition, his fame and influence on the destinies and politics of France could indeed have increased enormously, but only a person so far from the art of war as Colbert could believe that this expedition could easily end in success, and in the event of the Duke's unexpected death, the chances of success of the expedition became vanishingly small.
So, Count de La F;re and Count Rochefort were in a hurry not only to prevent treason and save the Duke of Beaufort from death, in fact they were in a hurry to protect the interests of France and the Venetian Republic in the eastern part of the Mediterranean.
“I should have gone to this siege with Raoul from the very beginning,” Athos said to Rochefort, standing on the deck of the ship and peering into the distance on the horizon.
“You should not constantly patronize the young Viscount, and of course you did not, otherwise he would never have become the valiant warrior that I have heard he already is,” Rochefort objected. — The desire not to let children go has a destructive effect on their characters.
“It was precisely this consideration that held me back,” Athos sighed. “But, as you know, there are spies on the expedition who have received orders to commit the most terrible crime that can be committed in an army engaged in combat operations.” To treacherously behead a military expedition means dooming it to defeat. And to encroach on the Duke, in whose veins the blood of King Henry IV flows - only a complete man could decide to commit such a villainous crime. By the way, where did you find out about this order? Please note, Count, that I did not doubt your words and immediately rushed to the Duke’s rescue, and if the source of your information is not subject to publication, I withdraw my question.
“You didn’t embarrass me at all by asking this question,” Rochefort replied. — As you know, I took part in the actions of a certain opposition force called the Fronde. Although these forces have retreated, I still have some connections. Among the Parisian bourgeoisie there is an extremely smart fellow who runs something between a tavern, a hotel and a fruit shop. He has maintained a network of well-wishers who, on occasion, if they manage to learn some important information through servants or lackeys, deliver this information to the specified shopkeeper, who serves as the underground commander-in-chief of these remnants of the opposition. He tells me the information he has received only when he is sure that, firstly, it is important for me and the common cause, and secondly, he understands that without my help they cannot solve the problem that has arisen. This is the second message from this source, and the first was completely accurate and extremely timely.
“Your explanation, Count, is more than enough, and I ask you not to mention the name of this amazing person, who is a reliable source of your information,” Athos hastily answered, not wanting to know someone else’s secret to such a degree of detail that Rochefort was already ready to share with him. .
If Athos had not interrupted Rochefort, he would have learned that the mysterious source of information was none other than Planchet, familiar to him from the days of his youth, when the current shopkeeper and eminence grise of the remnants of the Fronde was a simple servant of the young and then unknown d'Artagnan , just starting his military career.
“By the way, Count,” said Rochefort, “how can we help the Duke of Beaufort on this fragile boat?” Of course, like you, I rushed to the rescue without thinking about the means of achieving our goal, but now we have time to think, and it seems to me that we could draw up some kind of plan of action.
“As far as plans are concerned, Count, you are in the wrong place,” Athos answered with a smile and shook his head, causing his gray curls to scatter over his shoulders, like a thousand streams flowing down a mountain. “My friend Aramis likes to make far-reaching and extremely intricate plans. As for unexpected, dizzying and decisive plans, in this area we had the best d'Artagnan. I always acted only under the influence of a sense of duty and honor, without thinking too much about the consequences, except in those cases, of course, when we all acted according to a single plan, born in the head of one of us, and accepted by all without objection. What happy times those were, Count!
“I remember this, when no one was able to stop the pressure of your glorious four!” Rochefort smiled. - Although this did not please me at all, because by chance I was on the other side, so your successes were at the same time our defeats.
- Is it worth remembering such little things now? - Athos responded under the influence of romantic memories. “The king and the cardinal, whom we served as best we could, have already departed to the best of worlds, where, I believe, they put aside all their differences and were reconciled before the face of God.” But royal blood should not be offended by vile murder. Let us act as our conscience tells us. We either save the Duke or die saving him. I see both of these outcomes as preferable to passively waiting for the outcome of this terrible drama.
- Count, I admire you and your words, and I cannot object to anything! - Rochefort replied .

Meanwhile, serious events flared up in the Kandia fortress. Under the terms of the Iberian Peace, France pledged to help the Venetian Republic in its confrontation with the Ottoman Empire. At first, success accompanied the Venetians, and they won many victories in individual battles, but after the Ottoman fleet completely defeated the Venetian one, and to top off the misfortunes, the commander of the Venetian fleet Lazaro Mocenigo was killed by a ship's mast collapsing from a cannonball, luck completely switched to the side of the Ottoman Empire . The fortress of Candia on the island of Crete remained the last outpost of the Venetian presence in the eastern Mediterranean. For this reason, the Turks spared neither strength, nor lives, nor gunpowder, nor bullets during the siege of this fortress. Using information from defectors, they learned about the most vulnerable places in the fortress and fought fierce battles in these areas. When the fighting died down for a while, the siege of the fortress continued, which complicated the already unenviable fate of the besieged.
The forces of the Duke of Beaufort arrived from the sea and joined the besieged.

XLVII. Meeting

A military council was held in a room in one of the inner towers of the fortress. Captain-General Francesco Morosini bent over a map of the fortress, on which marks were made on the location of the Turkish troops. Commandant Grimaldi, tapping his riding crop on his boot, walked nervously by the window, looking anxiously in the direction of the Turkish batteries. The Duke of Beaufort sat by the fireplace and listened to the distant cannonade.
“What are our strengths at present, Commandant?” - Morosini asked, turning to Grimaldi.
“Eight and a half thousand people,” answered Grimaldi, “but if you don’t count the wounded, then eight hundred people less.” Add to this the acute shortage of gunpowder, cannonballs and bullets, as well as the danger of soon being left without provisions, and you get a relatively complete picture.
- Does this mean we lost? - Morosini asked displeasedly.
“This means that we must take into account all factors in order to manage the forces available to us as effectively as possible in order to reduce the likelihood of defeat,” Grimaldi replied.
“The Turks captured Mount San Lucia and installed their battery on it,” Morosini stated displeasedly. “They’re hitting us from there, but we can’t answer them with anything!”
“It should be assumed that under the cover of these batteries their sappers may begin to dig tunnels,” Grimaldi added.
- This cannot be allowed! - exclaimed Morosini. “We must blow up their tunnels before they can bring them to the fortress walls, plant explosives and blow up the walls of our fortress.”
“Sappers dig their mines quietly,” said the Duke, playing with a sea dirk. “We need to dig saps on our side, even lower, put gunpowder there and bring down their tunnels.”
“We won’t be able to dig under the fortress walls,” Grimaldi objected. “The ground underneath is rocky, and such tunnels, even if possible, would be extremely dangerous, since they would reduce the inaccessibility of the walls of our fortress.
- So they are impregnable! — the Duke calmed down. - What are we worried about then?
“I didn’t express myself quite precisely,” Grimaldi objected. “I just wanted to say that it is unwise to weaken the strength of these walls.”
- We will carry out a night trick! - exclaimed the Duke of Beaufort.
- Do you want to say “soray”? - asked Morosini, who could not get used to the Duke’s manner of confusing some consonant words, which sometimes caused awkwardness, and sometimes the meaning was distorted so much that it was not always possible to correctly understand what exactly the Duke of Beaufort wanted to say.
- Did I say anything else? - Beaufort was surprised.
—What would be the purpose of such a foray? - asked Morosini.
“We will capture the prisoners, find out from them where the mines are underway, and collapse them or blow them up,” said Beaufort with such an impassive expression, as if he was announcing his intention to walk through the park and enjoy the smell of night violets.
“We have already made several forays, and for this reason we have eight hundred wounded and the same number died in such forays,” Grimaldi added his comment.
“Apparently, the sorties you are talking about were without proper command,” replied Beaufort. “Under my direct command, the sortie will be more fruitful.”
“I’m ready to admit that under your command the sortie will be more successful,” Morosini replied, emphasizing the words “command” and “successful,” as if emphasizing that these words should be used rather than the terms “command” and “fruitful” - however, we cannot risk you, Your Grace.
“You don’t need to do this,” the Duke of Beaufort waved him off, “I myself can risk My Lordship, your consent is not required here.” In case I am killed in this sortie, the Comte de Guiche or the Viscount de Bragelonne will take my place. These officers fully demonstrated their courage and military ingenuity.
“Why not entrust them with leading the raid if they can replace you in everything?” - asked Morosini.
“For the simple reason that when the commander-in-chief is present in the French Army, he has no need to shift his duties to his deputies, but if he is absent due to death, these duties will be transferred to them by themselves,” answered the duke.
“Of course,” Morosini corrected quietly.
“I said so,” replied the Duke.
- When do you propose to make this sortie? - asked Grimaldi.
“At least this very night,” the Duke answered simply.
- In no case! - exclaimed Morosini. “If you do not allow us to keep you, Your Grace, from personal participation in this dangerous event, let us at least select the best soldiers and officers for this and carefully think through and prepare this event!”
- Nonsense! - exclaimed the Duke. “All the soldiers and officers under my leadership are good enough for war, and by calling this event dangerous, you forget that there are no safe events in war.” There is nothing to think about here, you just need to break into the enemy’s trenches, capture prisoners and chop down all those who resist.
“Your Grace,” Grimaldi said softly. - For what reason do you prefer a night sortie to a daytime sortie?
“Because of the darkness, which gives us the advantage of secrecy,” answered the Duke.
“In this case, the full moon, which will illuminate the site of this foray tonight, will not allow us to achieve the required secrecy, since the required darkness will not take place,” Grimaldi clarified.
- Are you suggesting we wait two weeks until the moon turns into a thin moon? - the Duke was surprised.
“We’ll wait for at least a cloudy night that will at least half hide the moon behind the clouds,” Grimaldi replied.
“Okay,” agreed Beaufort. — There will be a sortie on the next cloudy night.

XLVIII. We're late!

One dark night, when the clouds hid the moon, Athos and Rochefort landed on the island of Crete on their small ship, unnoticed by Turkish intelligence. Having made their way to the walls of the fortress, they were looking for a way to get inside without receiving bullets from the defenders. To do this, it was necessary to let the besieged know that the arriving nobles were French, not Turks.
Suddenly, shots came to their ears.
- They are making a sortie! - Athos exclaimed. “Let’s hurry up, let’s join the brave souls and help them with our swords and muskets!”
Running up to the battlefield, Athos and Rochefort discovered that the advantage was on the side of the brave French, both due to the surprise of the sortie and the decisiveness of their actions. The forces of the soldiers defending the trenches in this area were smaller, so the sortie could well be called successful. By clothing, appearance and French shouts, the participants in the sortie identified their compatriots and gratefully accepted their help.
The participants in the raid carried out three daring actions. First, they drove the Turks out of the trenches near the fortress at the site of the attack and forced them to retreat. Secondly, they blew up several barrels of gunpowder that were standing not far from the cannons, so that all these cannons were temporarily left without gunpowder, and two or three of them, among other things, fell on their sides, or fell into a trench, moreover, damaging them , apparently, were fatal to their further use. Thirdly, the heroes of the raid captured two prisoners.
Inspired by the success of their tasks, the heroes of the foray returned to the fortress, after which the fortress gates were hastily closed behind them.
Grimaldi, who went down to the gate to meet the heroes, ordered the prisoners to be transferred to headquarters for interrogation. He hugged the participants in the sally and congratulated them on their success, and was also very surprised by the appearance of two nobles who, according to the participants in the sally, arrived very opportunely and helped complete the assigned tasks.
Suddenly a murmur ran through the ranks of the sally participants. The officers shouted the name of the Duke of Beaufort more and more often, and more and more grief was heard in their cries.
- What's happening? - asked Rochefort. - Why does everyone say the Duke’s name?
“He has disappeared,” said the Comte de Guiche, who approached Rochefort at that moment. - He led the detachment, but he did not return.
- My God! - exclaimed Rochefort. - We are late! Count de La F;re! We are late.
- Count de La F;re?! - asked the Count de Guiche and brought the lantern to Athos’s face. - Count, it's you! What fate!
“Yes, it’s me,” Athos nodded. —Are you talking about the fate of the Duke of Beaufort?
“And not only,” de Guiche answered with deep sadness. “After all, Raoul de Bragelonne is your son, isn’t it?”
- What about him? - Athos asked, growing colder.
“Take courage, Count,” replied de Guiche. “I saw with my own eyes how a shot rang out from the Turkish side, after which Raul fell into one of the trenches. After this, an explosion was heard somewhere nearby. We didn't see him again.
- If Raoul did not return from the sortie, it means that he died or was wounded so badly that he did not have the strength to return back.
“In the morning we will make another sortie and look for him among the wounded or killed,” said de Guiche with the greatest sorrow.
“I won’t wait for the morning,” answered Athos. - Give me a lantern, I’ll go immediately.
With these words, he grabbed a portable lantern from de Guiche’s hands, covered it with his hat and walked towards the fortress gates.
“They won’t let you out, Count!” - exclaimed de Guiche.
“Let them just try,” Athos answered in such a tone that de Guiche realized that nothing could detain this man.

Since Athos saw with his own eyes the place where the battle took place, he, covering a portable kerosene lantern with his hat and cloak, crept in almost complete darkness to the place where the events described by de Guiche supposedly took place.
Athos soon saw a cannon torn apart by the explosion, which had half collapsed into the trench. He jumped down and saw that the fallen cannon had crushed a man. With a trembling in his heart, Athos lifted the cloak thrown over the lantern and illuminated the body of the dead man. His head and shoulders were crushed by a heavy cannon. A sword lay next to the dead man. Athos bent down and picked it up. It was the same sword with the coat of arms on the guard that the Count de La F;re gave to Raoul before his departure to the army of the Duke of Beaufort. It was Raoul's sword.
Athos threw the lantern away from him and walked back to the fortress in complete darkness. His eyes saw nothing, and even if at that moment the clouds had disappeared and the full moon illuminated the battlefield, he still would not have distinguished the surrounding objects, since his eyes were covered with a salty veil, a heavy lump was stuck in his throat, and his legs refused to move.
Raoul, his Raoul, was killed, his youthful body was mutilated by a weapon that fell on him, and only the pride of the count's family - a sword decorated with diamonds and emeralds, that sword that Athos himself, being a simple musketeer, more than once crossed with his enemies, this sword remained untouched, it did not fall to the enemy. Everything is lost except honor! This is what King Francis I of France wrote in a letter to his mother, and Athos could have said the same now if the words had come to his mind.
Life is over. It was only necessary to complete it with honor. Athos could not leave the besieged in the fortress, and could not indulge in his own grief when the besieged did not know whether they would survive the next day.
If there had not been a situation of war around, if the fate of the fortress had not now depended on every sword and every steady hand capable of holding a musket, Athos would have indulged in his grief, and nothing could have distracted him from the thought that life was over . But the count was a man of honor. If the work for which Raoul and the Duke de Beaufort died is not yet finished, then he, Athos, Count de La F;re, will have to finish this work, or share the fate of the fallen heroes. The Count would have preferred to be killed immediately, but his honor demanded that he fight to the end. Honor forbade him to shoot a bullet in the forehead, throw himself on a sword, or expose his chest to a stray enemy bullet. Honor forced him to fight according to all the rules of the art of war, defending the cause that destroyed his dear son.

XLIX. Pigeon mail

In one of the castles in Madrid, Aramis slowly climbed the spiral staircase to the very dome of one of the chapels.
Under the conical roof there were cages with pigeons. A rock pigeon impatiently walked along the roof of one of the cages and cooed continuously. Aramis approached the pigeon, one of whose legs was wrapped in a thin strip of paper, secured with a silk thread wrapped over it. Aramis cut the thread with a knife and removed a strip of paper, after which he put the dove in the cage and went down the same spiral staircase that led him to this mysterious dovecote.
Returning to the luxuriously furnished office, Aramis straightened out a strip of paper, took a large magnifying glass from the table and read the text written on the mysterious message, which read:

“Order 1 completed. Du Sh."

Aramis slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he burned the note on the candle that burned in the massive silver candlestick.

Then he took the same small piece of paper and wrote in his small calligraphic handwriting

“Follow Order 2. You are responsible for the accuracy of execution with your head”

Having written this letter, Aramis rang the bell. Bazin entered the office with silent steps.
- How many pigeons have you delivered from Poadorakis? - he asked.
“Three,” replied Bazin.
Aramis pointed to the note to Bazin and ordered:
- Send it when it gets dark.
Bazin carefully took the note, bowed and left the office.
The prelate looked at his lean hands with transparent parchment skin, examining the rings on his fingers with well-groomed nails. Once these hands caressed the first beauties of France, but now they are kissed by men who recognize his power over them.
“How fleeting life is! - he thought. - First, we have youth and spend it on everything to get the attention of beauties, to acquire at least some money and power, risking our lives for this! Very little time passes, we get money, power and beauties, as much as we want, but youth leaves us, taking away the last remnants of life! Why now strive for power and wealth if those who were once dear have either died, or have changed beyond recognition, or have simply moved away from us so much that they have ceased to disturb our souls?”
My heart sank again with the thought of Porthos.
"It's my fault! - he accused himself again and again. “I shouldn’t have done this to my friend, as if he were a simple instrument to carry out my will!” I had to share my plans with him. Perhaps he would not understand me. Perhaps he didn’t support it! But I had to talk with him, with Athos and with d'Artagnan, before starting such a thing!
And then Aramis’s heart was pierced by an even greater pain than the melancholy over the death of Porthos. At first he did not understand her reason. Then he closed his eyes and tried to look into his soul. He was tormented by intense anxiety, shame and remorse.
“They wouldn’t support me, all three of them! - Aramis thought with horror. He came to terms with the fact that his idea would not be supported by Porthos, since the giant never claimed either the role of a moral leader, which Athos always was, or the role of a generator of ideas, which d'Artagnan was. By condescendingly allowing all his friends to shamelessly take advantage of his physical strength, his sword and his courage, and even his money, Porthos himself voluntarily relegated himself to the background. He turned into a background for his other three friends, shining against this background with their cunning, intelligence and morality! But was Porthos really as naive as he wanted to appear? Why was the role of moral leader unconditionally given to Athos, while it was he, Aramis, a man who devoted himself to serving God, who, it would seem, should have carried within himself the strongest foundations of moral purity? Why was d'Artagnan, who was younger than everyone and more inexperienced than the rest of his friends, considered the most cunning among them? Why was Porthos considered the best fighter, while Athos trained tirelessly in musketry and fencing, while Porthos only trained his strength and agility, without connecting these exercises too much with martial art, although, of course, he was one of the best swordsmen and musket shooters, but was still inferior to Athos in this art?
“We did not understand each other at all, we treated each other as diagrams, while each of us contains a whole Universe of different properties of the soul, character traits, thoughts and aspirations! - Aramis thought in despair. - I left France, saving my life and looking for ways to increase my power! But at the same time I left my best friends, which not every person is lucky enough to acquire! Spain without my friends is as empty to me as a desert, lifeless and uninteresting. A thousand dangers near my friends are nothing compared to the spiritual emptiness that arises here in Madrid, where no one and nothing threatens him, and where he can only receive information and send instructions to his numerous agents! Is this life?
“Your Eminence,” said Bazin, who had obviously returned with some important message and had been standing silently for five minutes, waiting for Aramis to glance at him.
- What, Bazin? - Aramis asked, shuddering in surprise. - What's happened?
“A letter from Blois with pigeon mail,” Bazin answered respectfully, approached respectfully and placed a small piece of paper in front of Aramis.
Aramis approached the light, read the note and suddenly straightened up decisively, as if he had even become younger and taller.
- Bazin, my sword, horses! We're going to Blois! - he exclaimed.
“Your Eminence, a trip to France is extremely dangerous for you in the current situation,” Bazin said timidly.
- So much the better, Bazin! You didn't think I'd live forever, did you? - Aramis objected. - Half an hour to get ready, a full supply of gunpowder and bullets, two muskets for each saddle, my sword, two hundred pistoles for the journey for me and a hundred pistoles for you. Let's go. Forward, forward, move!
Bazin, accustomed to the measured lifestyle of a priest, sighed and went to carry out his master’s orders. Over the many years of service under Aramis, he had become accustomed to accepting his master's orders unconditionally, like the weather or natural disasters.
Aramis looked again at the piece of paper on which was written:
“D'Artagnan travels between Blois and Pierrefonds, followed by Colbert's three spies. J.-P. d'Aunay."

L. Last night in the fortress

When all the lights in the fortress were extinguished, Athos stood for a long time in the darkness and looked out the window towards the enemy, to where the Turkish batteries were firing. He firmly decided to go on a sortie tomorrow and die, putting an end to this life, which from now on was only a burden for him. He was sorry to part with his friends, d'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis, but the thought of Raoul's death squeezed his heart with such a cruel vice that even the joy of communicating with his comrades could not dull this pain.
- Why drag out this miserable life of an old man when my son is no longer there and no one will return him to me? - he thought.
Now that the torch of fatherly love had been extinguished by treacherous fate, Athos felt like a barren, dry tree that was wasting space and blocking the light of young shoots. There was no longer any vital juice left in this tree, it did not strive to survive, and not a single green bud, not a single leaf could be expected on its dry and wrinkled trunk. Looking with contempt at the bottle of wine that the servant brought him, he thought: “How far away are the times when I rejoiced in good wine! With the appearance of Raoul in my life, I stopped drinking completely. Why did I take care of my health? And who am I going to set an example for now with my sobriety? The night is so long, this is the last night of my life. Why not cut it down with a couple sips of this good old wine?”
After these thoughts, Athos resolutely filled the goblet that was standing right there and drank its contents in one gulp. The taste of the wine seemed unusual to him; he felt a faint aftertaste of nutmeg bitterness and some other unknown herbs.
“Is the wine poisoned? - he thought. “Were there spies in the Duke’s camp?” But what difference does it make? It’s even better and easier! After all, I’m not a suicide or a coward, I’m just surrendering to the flow that Fate carries me along!” After this, Athos poured the remaining wine from the bottle into the goblet and drained it even more decisively than the first time.
His head began to spin, the dark silhouettes of the furnishings in the room floated and swayed.
“How simple and easy everything is! - thought the count. - We will meet soon, Raoul! I am going to you!"
With this thought, the count collapsed on his bed and fell into a painful sleep.
He dreamed of a blooming garden in which he met Raoul. The young man led Mademoiselle de La Valli;re by the arm.
- Father, the Lord united us! - Raoul exclaimed.
Mademoiselle curtsied and bowed her head in front of Athos.
“Mademoiselle, I forgive you for the evil that you caused my son, because in the end he found peace,” said Athos. - Go in peace.
With these words he hugged Raoul.
- What are you allowing yourself to do?! - Raoul exclaimed in the voice of Louis XIV .
Athos pulled back and saw that he was hugging the King.
“Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Athos replied. “I thought you were my son.”
- He decided that I could prefer his son to Your Majesty! - Mademoiselle de La Valli;re cried out contemptuously. - God, how blind are all these provincial fathers of respectable fools!
- Take him away! - exclaimed the King. - Hey, someone! To the Bastille of this rebel.
The Duke de Beaufort and Fouquet approached Athos with soft steps from both sides, took him by the arms and gently led him somewhere to the side.
- Don’t worry, Count, prison means peace and relaxation! - Beaufort said softly.
“Together with you, we will wonderfully spend the rest of our days in captivity,” Fouquet picked up.
- Come to us, we've been waiting for you! - exclaimed the commandant of the Bastille de Bezmo, who appeared from nowhere. — Your camera is number three.
Fouquet and Beaufort led Athos through endless labyrinths, after which an iron door swung open in front of him.
In the room, a man was sitting on a stool with his back to the door. As Athos and his entourage entered the cell, the man stood up and turned around. This man was an exact reflection of Athos.
- My brother! Have you come to see me? - exclaimed the double of Athos.
- Who you are? - asked Athos.
- Your brother and your shadow! - answered the double. - Every person has his own second “I”. Didn't you know? Duchess, imagine, the Count didn’t know anything about us!
From somewhere in the depths of the cell came two Duchesses de Chevreuse, both of them young and beautiful.
- Count, you are so naive! - exclaimed the one standing to the left.
- Which of the two of us did you love? — picked up the one who stood to the right.
“I leave you in this lovely company,” said the double of Athos in the voice of the King, “and I myself go to freedom.”
Athos took a closer look at his double and saw with horror that this man was like two peas in a pod like the King.
- Wait a minute! You found this in the trench, didn't you? - said the King’s double, pointing to Athos’s sword, hanging in its sheath on a sling.
With these words, he pulled out the family sword from Athos’ sheath, looked carefully at its hilt and said:
“This sword did not bring you happiness, Count, but it brought you a lot of grief,” said the King’s double. “Now she will bring you relief.”
With these words, he plunged his sword into Athos's chest.
Athos felt warmth emanating from his chest, saw a bright flash of light, after which he fell into silent darkness, where all feelings left him.

LI. Another part of the King's order

A few days after the events described, d'Artagnan and Porthos arrived in Crete. That part of the coast that was still controlled by the Allies was guarded by French troops. Our friends also arrived with one of the ships that delivered gunpowder, ammunition and food to the fortress. Based on his high military rank and using the order of the King that remained with him, d'Artagnan led this small naval expedition and, despite the shelling of coastal artillery from the Turkish part of the island, he managed to guide the ship in relative safety to his intended target.
The delivered cargo was gladly received by the commandant of the fortress, who escorted d'Artagnan and Porthos to the rooms of one of the inner towers.
- Since you arrived without troops, captain, you probably brought us some kind of order to your units from the King of France? - asked Grimaldi.
“His Majesty has not received news from the fortress for a long time and sent me to find out how things are, what help is needed and in what time the campaign can be expected to be completed.
“We have nothing to please your King,” Grimaldi answered gloomily. “We will hold the fortress as long as we can, but its surrender to the Turks is only a matter of time.”
- Damn it, you have several thousand soldiers here! - exclaimed Porthos.
“Our forces are constrained in action, while the forces of the Ottoman Empire are many times superior to ours, especially at sea. - Grimaldi replied. “They surround us, methodically breaking down the walls of the fortress. I'm surprised you managed to sneak past their warships.
“A little art and a lot of luck,” answered the captain. “And yet, is there really no way to save the situation?”
“A few days ago a monk came to us and told us that he had been sent as a general of the Jesuit order,” Grimaldi replied. “He offered us a means of fighting the Turks.
- What did it consist of? - asked d'Artagnan.
“He suggested that we scatter dead fish sprinkled with some mysterious substance along the coast,” answered the commandant. “According to him, the seagulls that would feed on this fish would subsequently bring a fatal disease onto the Ottoman ships, which would cause a pestilence in the Turkish camp, after which the Turks would have to retreat.
“This is not war, but meanness,” d’Artagnan shrugged, “however, meanness and war are synonymous.” But how could seagulls, having brought an epidemic to Turkish ships, not affect the ships of the French and Venetian fleet?
“We asked the same question to the Jesuit monk,” answered Grimaldi, “to which he replied that he knew a medicine that could completely cure anyone who contracted this deadly disease.”
- What is the dose of such a medicine per patient? - asked d'Artagnan.
“The Jesuit said that one bottle of such medicine is enough to cure five people,” Grimaldi answered.
- There are about ten thousand soldiers in the fortress and about a quarter of this number are women and old people! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Add here the fleet of two states! You will need several barrels of this medicine and a whole staff of doctors!
“That’s why we rejected the Jesuit’s offer,” Grimaldi replied.
- And you were absolutely right, commandant! - exclaimed the captain and firmly shook Grimaldi's hand. - Edged weapons, muskets, rifles and cannons - these are the real weapons of war! The poisons invented in Italy and used by the Jesuits will, I hope, never be used in wars in such quantities that the result can get out of control. I hope that this monk did not intend to realize his idea himself?
“It seemed to us that he was indifferent to the outcome of the campaign, and our refusal to take up his offer did not seem to bother him at all,” answered the commandant. “He left without a trace of emotion, and I was informed that he had sailed to the coast in a small ship, accompanied by some gloomy man who acted as skipper and servant.
-What did he look like? - asked d'Artagnan.
“A very young man of average build with deep-set eyes and wide brow ridges,” Grimaldi replied.
“No, this is not Aramis,” d’Artagnan said to himself.
- What did you say, excuse me? - the commandant asked.
“Nothing, I’m just thinking out loud,” the captain replied. —Can I talk to my compatriots? I would like to see the Duke de Beaufort.
“Unfortunately...” said Grimaldi, “however, I see the Count de Guiche is coming to us, he will tell you everything that interests you, but let me leave you to start preparing for the further defense of the fortress.”
— All the best, Commandant, and good luck! - answered d'Artagnan, placing two fingers on his hat, thus saluting the commandant as his equal in rank. d'Artagnan. - Count, I am immensely glad to see you! I see you are not injured! Fortune protects you!
“Fortune has so far been more merciful towards me than towards other commanders,” answered the Comte de Guiche with a sigh. “It would be better for me to die in this sortie.”
- What are you saying, Count! - D'Artagnan was surprised. - Who got it this time from the wayward Greek goddess of luck?
“The imagery of your speech, captain, will disappear after I tell you the names of the dead,” replied de Guiche. “Our commander-in-chief, the Duke de Beaufort, disappeared without a trace during a night raid.
- Can't be! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. — Disappeared without a trace? How can a person disappear in front of many fighting?
“Although the night was moonlit, at the time of landing the clouds covered the moon, we fought in almost complete darkness. Only occasionally flashes from shots from our and enemy muskets illuminated the battlefield, and barrels of gunpowder exploded four more times, with which we destroyed two Turkish cannons and brought down two of their tunnels under the fortress,” de Guiche answered sadly. “The sortie could have been called successful if not for the loss of our commander-in-chief.” The Duke was a desperate warrior, he was completely oblivious to the danger, and, apparently, chased after some particularly fiercely fighting Turk, in the heat of the chase he became too far away from the detachment and was killed or captured.
- This is a great misfortune! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “Didn’t the envoys come after that with an offer to return the Duke for an appropriate ransom?”
“There were no envoys,” replied de Guiche.
“That means the Duke is dead,” the captain said more to himself than to de Guiche. “The king will not forgive us for this loss.”
“The Duke was an unstoppable man, whom even the King could not control. Even Cardinal Mazarin could not do anything about his wayward character. We could only follow his orders and try to protect him as best we could. “But I do not absolve myself of blame for this tragic incident,” de Guiche replied. “The most reasonable thing for me is to die as gloriously as my commander died, and as the Viscount de Bragelonne died.”
- Viscount de Bragelonne?! - D'Artagnan cried. “You said that the Viscount de Bragelonne died?”
“Crushed by a cannon that collapsed from the explosion,” de Guiche sighed. “Apparently, before this he was wounded, which is why he fell into an enemy trench, where he found his death.
- Unhappy young man! What an evil fate! Poor Raoul! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Unhappy Athos! He won't survive this. Forgive me, Comte de La F;re, for bringing you such evil news!
-Are you talking about the Comte de La F;re? - De Guiche was surprised. “You therefore know that he recently arrived at the fortress?”
- So the count is in the fortress? - the captain was surprised.
“Not anymore,” de Guiche sighed sadly. — Upon learning of the death of his son, the count apparently drank poisoned wine. He was found the next morning lifeless in his bed. Three officers, having some authority from the King, loaded his body into a coffin and took him to the mainland.
- Three officers? With the powers of the King? - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Again, some officers and some damn powers? Who read these orders?
“I read them, captain, because after the death of the duke I remain the senior officer of the French army in this fortress,” answered de Guiche.
- What did they say? - asked the captain.
“Everything is very vague,” said de Guiche. - The paper stated that the bearers of this document acted by order of the King and for the good of France, and also that all officers of the land and naval forces of France should provide all possible assistance to these officers in their mission to arrest or execute state criminals.
- The same style and the same immense powers! - the captain said in despair. — Were the names of these officers there?
“On the paper they showed me there was only one name,” answered the count. - This name is Lieutenant du Chante.
“Du Chante,” said d’Artagnan thoughtfully. “I don’t know such a lieutenant in the royal guard.” But I'll meet him, damn it! Count, we are forced to leave you, since I am also carrying out the King’s orders and must move on.
“Well,” replied de Guiche, “the ship on which you arrived has already been unloaded, and the most seriously wounded have been loaded into it.” I suggest you have lunch, after which you can set sail.
“We’ll have lunch on the ship, if a piece gets into my throat after all the stunning news that you told me, Count,” answered d’Artagnan . - Today is the worst day of my life! I'm afraid I lost my taste for food for many days. Three deaths in two days! And what people! Count, I would like to meet a dozen or two Turks now in order to put them on my sword, however, I must rush to the King to save the honor of the Count de La F;re and his son, if I failed to save their lives!
“Can something really threaten the honor of such worthy people?” - De Guiche was surprised.
- And to a very strong extent! - answered d'Artagnan. “Apparently, some ill-wishers denigrated the Comte de La F;re and his son in the eyes of the King. His Majesty expected the most eccentric antics from them.
“If fighting under the banner of France, not sparing your life, is considered an eccentric trick,” de Guiche noted, “then there are plenty of people like that here.” Those who value their honor less than their lives remained in France.
“Since recently people have appeared around His Majesty, urging him not to trust my words too much, I ask you, Count, to draw up a report on the deaths of the Viscount de Bragelonne and the Comte de La F;re as accurately and as quickly as possible.
— This report has already been drawn up in two copies. “One is intended for the King, and the other I intended to send to the notary Comte de La F;re in Blois,” replied de Guiche.
- You are a wonderful person, Count! Give me both copies, I promise to deliver them to you faster and more reliably than any post office in the world.
“Let’s go up to my office,” answered de Guiche, “it will take no more than a couple of minutes.”
- Thank you, Count! Let’s go,” answered the captain.
Taking the two sealed envelopes handed to him, d'Artagnan extended his hand to de Guiche for a handshake, but, obeying some unknown force, the two suddenly embraced as if they were old friends and parted for a long time.
“ I knew you as a clever courtier, Count,” said d’Artagnan, “from which I conclude that I did not know you at all!” Now I see before me a brave military man whom I am happy to meet.
“I am neither one nor the other,” de Guiche answered sadly. “As a courtier, I constantly make mistakes, falling in love with someone I can’t possibly love.” As a military man, it seems to me, I don’t make mistakes, but military Fortune is very strict with me. I foresee that in this field I will find my death, but this fate does not frighten me at all.
- And in this you are right, I will report to you! - D'Artagnan said brightly. - Death on your bed among bottles of medicine and surrounded by sobbing nurses who are just waiting for you to give up the ghost and free them from the painful burden of caring for a frail old man! I wouldn’t wish such a prospect on my enemy. It's a matter of falling from your horse, struck by a bullet or an enemy cannonball! To be buried like a hero under the banner of the Motherland, surrounded by soldiers who do not pretend to mourn, but actually mourn the loss of a comrade in arms. This fate, I hope, is destined for me too. But don't rush into it! Fight as duty dictates, however, do not expose yourself to bullets in vain. Farewell!
“Farewell, captain,” replied de Guiche.
- Porthos, we're coming! - exclaimed d'Artagnan, turning to the giant, who was studying the fortifications of the fortress, accompanied by one of the junior officers. Hanging from the fortress wall, he examined the equipment of the approaches to the fortress, not paying attention to cannon shots from the Turkish side. — An amazingly intelligently designed fortress! - he exclaimed, finally, going down to d'Artagnan.
- Damn this fortress, and its architect, and those who besiege it, and those who defend it! - answered d'Artagnan. - Let's go, Porthos. I have something important to tell you. But not now, for God's sake. I don't have the strength for this. Hurry up and get on the ship and go home to France!
- So we won’t look for Raoul? - asked Porthos.
“We won’t find him here anymore,” the captain answered angrily. - Damn this fortress and this war! Let's go.
And the friends hurried to the ship. On the road, the friends hardly spoke, as everyone was lost in their own thoughts. In addition, there were many strangers on the ship, which made it impossible to talk frankly without fear of being overheard.
All the way, the captain thought that the King’s cruel order to bring him evidence of the death of his friends was inexplicably being fulfilled by itself. If the evidence of the death of Porthos did not require the implementation of this death, then in relation to Raoul and Athos, fate decreed otherwise. Some mystical force forced this order to come true despite all the efforts of d'Artagnan, which made him feel the powerlessness and rage of a lion driven into a cage.
“If this goes on,” he thought, “I will soon receive news of Aramis’ death! We must decisively end this game of cat and mouse with the death certificates of my friends! I went the wrong way! We should fight not with the consequences, but with the cause.”

LII. Curses to the marshal's baton

“I never would have thought how much hatred the thought of receiving a marshal’s baton could cause me!” - D'Artagnan said bitterly when the friends went ashore.
“I thought the same thing about the title of duke when I realized that it wasn’t going to happen to me,” Porthos answered and winked.
“It’s the opposite thought that infuriates me.” There is every reason to believe, dear Porthos, that this rod is haunting me and will be forcibly handed to me so that I can throw it into the sea! - answered the captain.
- Why throw such magnificent objects? - Porthos was surprised. “After all, this is a sign of royal respect and extremely high power.”
“For every pleasure, Porthos, you have to pay a price,” objected d’Artagnan. “So the price I have to pay for this damned marshal’s baton does not suit me at all!”
“Then don’t pay it, d’Artagnan, and you won’t receive this rod, which began to irritate you before you received it!” - Porthos answered.
“Damn Fortune decided to pay this price without my consent!” - answered d'Artagnan, - and although I never lay my hand on women, except when they themselves ask for it, if that trashy wench called Fortune were here and now, I swear I would beat her into the ground to the very top!
“You received news that some of the conditions that were set before you were fulfilled by themselves,” Porthos said thoughtfully.
- Exactly, Porthos, exactly! - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“And since these conditions were to provide evidence of the death of your friends, you received one of such evidence,” Porthos continued, taking off his hat. - Which of the two? Speak up!
- Thousand devils! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - I can't! I can’t even bring myself to say that!
“Athos,” Porthos whispered in a hoarse voice, dropping his hat to the ground.
- Damn it, both of them! - D'Artagnan shouted. - Can you hear me, Porthos! They both died!
Porthos gently squeezed d'Artagnan in his arms, pressing him to his heart.
“It would be better for me to remain in the cave of Lokmaria than to learn of such a misfortune, d’Artagnan,” he said. “You and I are seasoned warriors and are ready to appear before the Almighty at any moment, but young Raoul was still so young.” And the Count, he loved him so much!
“This love ruined him,” the captain sighed. “They told me that the count, having learned about Raoul’s death, took poison the next night.
“This is a great sin, but I do not condemn it,” said Porthos. “However, the count is not the kind of person to die such a death.” I would have expected him to go on the attack the next day, or to stand tall on the fortress wall with a musket in his hand.
- Damn it, you're right, Porthos! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “People like Comte de La F;re do not take poison of their own free will.” Colbert's spies poisoned him!
“In that case, we are going to Paris to kill Colbert and all his spies,” Porthos answered simply.
“Porthos, you can’t show yourself in Paris!” - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
- And you try to stop me! - responded the giant. “When it comes to taking revenge on Colbert for my friend and his son, there is no force that can stop me.”
- Colbert, Colbert, damn Colbert! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Porthos, we are not going to Paris.
- How so? - The Baron was surprised. “Aren’t we going to get revenge on Colbert?”
- Listen, Porthos, we will take revenge on the person who is the true culprit of the death of our friends! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “I’m tired of hiding my friends and getting certificates of their deaths, fake or genuine!” We are going to Pignerol, on the island of Saint-Marguerite!

LIII. The author addresses the readers

At this point the author interrupts his work and turns to his readers.
Do you know, my dear friends, that the publisher, Master Rogier, informed me that he was dissatisfied with the speed with which I was writing this novel?
— Do you find it too fast? - I asked.
“I don’t think she’s fast enough,” Rogier replied.
“Do you know how many geese lost their feathers for me to write all the sheets that I am sending you?” - I asked.
“I’ll send you two boxes of goose feathers and two gallons of ink, as well as as much paper as you like, but, for God’s sake, write quickly!” - Rogier replied.
-Where are you in a hurry? - I asked. “After all, my novels are usually published in separate chapters, one chapter in a Sunday newspaper, and I’ve already written a good seventy-two chapters!”
“I’ll tell you a little secret,” answered Master Rogier. “I’m not at all going to publish your novel one chapter at a time in a newspaper.” I am preparing to publish the entire book.
- In that case, I’m really detaining you! - I agreed.
- Do you see now? - Rozhier was delighted.
“I don’t want to see anything, but I’m a dramatic writer.” “Under my pen, the heroes live and act contrary to my wishes, as they see fit,” I objected.
“Then let them act a little more lively!” - exclaimed the obnoxious publisher.
- But understand me too! - I begged. — Previously, I published novels one chapter at a time in the Sunday edition, publishers sent me reader responses, thanks to which I understood that my work was not in vain, that it was interesting to the residents of Paris! Now I have to wait for the entire book to be published! How do I know that anyone will even read this?
- Trust my word, you will be read! - answered my tormentor. - If you really need feedback, here are reprints of your first chapters, you can read them in some salon and demand criticism or approval from your listeners.
“I just don’t have time for this,” I replied. “Besides, I’m not good at reading out loud.”
- Then entrust this to some artist or simply order these sheets to be pasted on poster stands near the theater where your plays are staged! - answered Master Rogier.
- Damn you with your poster stands, with your chamber readings and with your upcoming publication! — I thought, but didn’t say it out loud.
Having received the first proofs from the publisher and quickly leafed through them, I exclaimed:
- Allow me! Here's the old version! You printed the versions that I sent you as test chapters! Look, each part is missing the last chapters! Who will I appear to my readers if they read only the first versions of the first five parts of my book!
“It’s not my problem,” the publisher answered coldly. - In two days they will send you the full version of all five parts, you can read them out at the club, you can paste them on poster stands, but just promise that the sixth part will be ready by this time.
I was about to be indignant and throw the worthless publisher out when he added:
“By the way, here is the fee for the first five parts,” with these words he handed me an envelope.

I can’t say that the amount found in the envelope made me too happy or too surprised, but in connection with some purchases that Madame Dumas made the other day, I did not have the strength to decisively reject the envelope and cover with shame those draconian conditions for the timing of writing the novel, which Master Rogier gave it to me.
Dear Ida, that pearl necklace, which I refrained from purchasing, it seems, will soon be yours!

LIV. Faubourg Pierrefonds

Fat Mouston, despite the orders he had received from Porthos and d'Artagnan, did not dare to undertake the journey to England, where he was ordered to go. Dressed in the clothes of Porthos, living in a tavern near Pierrefonds, he could not decide to return to Pierrefonds, where he was considered dead, but he also could not decide to travel to an unknown overseas country.
The cuisine in the tavern could not compare with the exquisite cuisine in the baron's house, so Muston, accustomed to delicacies, did not have much of an appetite. In addition, he was bored sitting in the tavern, the interior of which in no way resembled the luxurious rooms of the baronial castle. Muston acquired the habit of walking through the park and going out to the river, admiring the views of nature. And although he didn’t lose much weight, he got a taste for and fell in love with walking, first walking two hundred steps a day, which for his heavy figure was already a great feat, gradually increasing this distance to three and four hundred steps per day. day.
Once, resting from a difficult trek for him in the shade of a spreading oak tree, under which the owner of the inn had built a fairly strong bench with a backrest, he glanced at the road, remaining unnoticed by travelers passing by.
Suddenly it seemed to him that he noticed d'Artagnan , who, apparently, was in a hurry to break away from some pursuit, however, apparently he was saving his horse's strength, since his haste was more ostentatious than real. The captain of the royal musketeers was wearing his usual suit, in addition, Muston recognized the captain’s horse, his hat, and his figure. The captain's face was not visible because he was wearing a mask.
“The weather today is not so dusty to wear a travel mask,” Muston said to himself. - And why did the captain decide to put it on? I've never seen him wear a mask before.
Reflecting on this event, Muston continued to look at the road, and after a few minutes he saw three guardsmen driving along the road, who, obviously, were galloping in the wake of the captain, as evidenced by the fact that they were carefully looking at the tracks on the road and at environment, and the fact that they drove in the same direction and at approximately the same speed. Muston thought that these guards were in no way trying to catch up with the captain, but were rather trying to keep the distance between them and the one they were chasing unchanged.
“But these people are up to no good!” - Muston said to himself. “It looks like these are robbers who are planning to rob the captain.” Fools! He will impale them on his long sword one by one!
Muston got up and headed to his room in the tavern.
“These are not robbers,” Muston continued to think, talking to himself. “The robbers dress up as ordinary people, but these were military men.” It seems that these are the captain’s people who fell behind on the way and are trying to catch up with him.
Muston sat down on the bench and took off his boots with pleasure, something he had not been able to do on his own for a long time.
- Well, yes, of course! - he objected to himself. “If these were the captain’s men, they would be musketeers!” Besides, they didn't look like they were in a hurry.
Putting on soft and warm socks instead of shoes, Muston went to the kitchen to get something to eat. Looking at the dishes that were being prepared in the kitchen, he took a crispy chicken leg with displeasure, bit into it sluggishly and threw the bone out the window to the dogs.
“Definitely unsuitable food, coarse peasant food,” he said and sat down on the sofa. “Why did Monsieur d’Artagnan go to Pierrefonds if he knows perfectly well that the baron is not there?” - he asked himself. - Has he really forgotten about this?
Muston resolutely began to pull on his boots.
“Soon he will reach Pierrefonds, discover that, of course, the baron is not there, after which he will turn around and go back,” he said, putting on his left boot with a grunt. “We need to warn him that spies are following him.”
After this, Muston also pulled on his right boot and slowly moved towards the road along which, according to his calculations, Monsieur d'Artagnan would soon pass.
Muston's calculations almost came true. True, the captain appeared on the horizon much earlier than Muston expected. It seemed that he had not even stopped at Pierrefonds, but had only reached the boundaries of the estate, turned his horse around and galloped back.
Muston waved his arms and, with as much haste as his figure would allow him, jumped out onto the road.
- Mr. Captain, wait! - he shouted. - It's me, Muston! Three spies are on your trail!
The captain did not seem to hear Muston's words and did not recognize him.
- You should know that you are being chased! - Muston shouted at the top of his lungs.
The captain stopped his horse, turned around and rode up to Muston.
- What did you want to tell me, sir? - he asked.
Muston realized with surprise that it was not Monsieur d'Artagnan, although he could have sworn that he recognized the captain's horse, his clothes and hat, and even his sword and boots. The hairstyle and figure were also exactly the same. But the voice was alien. The man was wearing a mask, and therefore Muston realized that he could not see his face properly. His imagination completed the facial features he expected to see, but this was obviously a completely different person.
“Forgive me, for God’s sake, I mistook you for someone else,” said Muston and turned around, preparing to return to the tavern. But then it occurred to him that, apparently, this man, who surprisingly resembled the captain of the royal musketeers, was probably also a very good person, which means that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to warn him that he was on his heels spies or robbers follow.
“Do you know, sir, that three armed horsemen are following you, probably spies or robbers?” - he asked.
- Oh, these! — the rider waved him off. - Empty. I know about them. However, thank you, but I have to go!
With these words, the rider spurred his horse and disappeared around the bend.
After some time, those three suspicious individuals, whom Muston mistook for spies, again rushed past him, now in the opposite direction.
“They are most definitely pursuing this man,” Muston told himself.
Taking off his boots again, he said:
- Monsieur d'Artagnan will not just give up his clothes, sword, hat, boots and even his horse. It is impossible to take all this away from him! If only by treacherous killing!
A little later he added:
- Monsieur d'Artagnan was not alone, but with Monsieur Baron. To take away all the things from Mr. Captain without even ruining his clothes is simply unthinkable.
Going to bed, Muston said to himself:
“The last time Monsieur d’Artagnan was with Monsieur Baron, he was wearing completely different clothes, he was with a different sword, in a different hat and on a different horse.” If someone stole his clothes, sword, hat and horse, he would certainly curse at this person and give him a chase. Consequently, he gifted or lent all his ammunition to this person. This means that this man is a friend of Mr. Captain.
Fluffing the pillow, Muston said:
- Monsieur d'Artagnan will never give his sword or his horse to a stranger. Either this person is a very close friend of Mr. Captain, or he is performing some important task, or this is his son.
Turning on his right side, Muston said:
“If this man is the son of Monsieur d’Artagnan, then it becomes completely clear why he is so similar to him in his posture, his figure, his hair, and even to some extent his face.” And it's age appropriate. True, he had a gray mustache, but I noticed flour on his collar. Therefore, the mustache is simply sprinkled with flour.
Closing his eyes and calling for a sweet, peaceful sleep, Muston muttered almost in his sleep:
- Monsieur d'Artagnan has a son, exactly like him, who for some reason needed to impersonate the captain. Spies are following him, but he knows about it and is not at all worried. Consequently, the son of Mr. Captain is simply distracting the spies. It’s not surprising, because Mr. Baron changed into my clothes, and forced me to wear his clothes. It seems that all over France there is a big carnival dress-up show going on, and I am also taking part in this show. I should pretend to be Monsieur Baron, since I was ordered to wear his clothes. Apparently, I should have guessed this myself. Well, I guessed it. Tomorrow I’ll try to practice speaking in Mr. Baron’s voice and imitating his gait.
Since Muston's character was extremely phlegmatic, all his reasoning did not disturb his serene mood, since he was convinced that his beloved baron was alive and well, and he did not care about the rest. Therefore, five minutes after his last maxim, our Muston fell into the most serene sleep.

LV. The Adventure of Francois

Our readers, of course, recognized the stranger, so similar to d'Artagnan, as Francois. He still wore the captain's costume, sword, boots and captain's hat, and rode the horse of the captain of the royal musketeers.
Carrying out d'Artagnan's orders, he distracted Colbert's spies, who wondered why the man they were ordered to follow was making such meaningless trips. Their patience was already running out, they were waiting for the slightest reason to use the order for the arrest of this man, and they saw this reason in the fact that, as they noticed, he stopped for a couple of minutes to exchange words with a certain person on the road. It was obvious that this man was waiting for him, that is, he knew about his arrival, in addition, in appearance he matched the description of the wanted Baron du Valon. As soon as they had ridden a sufficient distance from the place where the meeting took place, the eldest of the three stopped his horse and signaled to the other two to do the same.
“Du Cloix, turn around and follow the accomplice of the captain d’Artagnan we are pursuing!” This man matches the description of one of the government's most wanted criminals, Baron du Valon.
- Yes, Lieutenant D'Elsorte!
- And you, de Lortie, follow me! Today we will arrest the captain!
At that moment, when Muston was sweetly falling asleep, one of the three spies was hiding under the window of his room, carefully observing every action of the phlegmatic fat man.
The other two decided to follow the soldier they were pursuing and arrest him at the first hotel he stopped at.
The fact is that they knew not only the name of the pursued officer, but also his dexterity in fencing, strength and intelligence. To attack him on the road seemed to them excessively dangerous and therefore unwise. They decided to take him by surprise, in a tavern, while he was sleeping.
Francois, meanwhile, understood perfectly well who he was dealing with.
Going to bed, he leaned the poker against the door, placed a chamber pot under the door, poured olive oil on the window sill of the only window, put the sword next to him, turned off the light and went to bed without undressing.
The eldest of Colbert's spies, Lieutenant D'Elsorte, decided to burst into the room through the doors, while he ordered his comrade de Lortie to climb through the window so as not to allow him to leave that way.
As soon as D'Elsorte opened the door of the room, a poker fell on his foot with a crash. The attacker cursed, realizing that a surprise attack would not work, and decisively burst into the room. He tripped over a chamber pot, causing even more noise; fortunately, the pot was empty.
He did not have time to get up because he felt the cold steel of a sword at his neck.
- Lie where you lie, my dear, otherwise your slightest movement will be your last! - exclaimed Francois.
At that moment, the window of the room opened, and de Lortie appeared in the window with a musket in his hand.
- You are under arrest! Surrender or I'll shoot! - he shouted and grabbed the window sill with his free hand, however, his hand slipped and he fell down, only managing to shoot as he fell into the ceiling of the room.
“My dear, I don’t know what to call you,” said Francois, who, it would seem, was completely oblivious to what happened in the open window. “Tell your friends to lay down their weapons and get away, or I will stab you in the throat.”
The defeated d'Elsorte regretted with all his heart that he had sent du Cloix to follow the fat man he met along the road. Together, even in conditions of complete surprise of the attack, they had no chance against this spirited warrior.
However, de Lortie, who fell from the second floor, was not at a loss. He turned to the innkeeper, showing him the King's order, and ordered him to gather his people to arrest the state criminal. The innkeeper had three strong grooms whom he called for help. The five of these men armed themselves with whatever they could, and then de Lortie opened the doors of the room and shouted:
- In the name of the King, Monsieur d'Artagnan, you are under arrest!
“You want me to pierce your boss’s throat?” - asked Francois.
“Then we will not arrest you, but kill you,” exclaimed de Lortie.
“It’s not my plan to die,” answered Francois, “but to give up in such an advantageous position, even though there are five of you, I’m too offended, because is your boss worth anything?” I propose a compromise. You get out of here, I leave him alive and leave in another way, for example, through the window. Is this option right for you?
- In the name of the King you will be killed, d'Artagnan! - exclaimed the second of the spies, who gathered an improvised militia from the innkeeper and his three grooms.
- Not this time, gentlemen! - a fierce voice came from behind them. - D'Artagnan, kill your own, and go out to deal with these, I'm here!
None of those standing in the doorway understood where this enraged warrior had come from, behind whom, in addition to everything else, stood a servant with a loaded musket in each hand.
“Gentlemen, there are five of you, we have four loaded muskets,” said the one who came to d’Artagnan’s aid in a calm voice. “We will kill four of you with the first salvo, while d’Artagnan will pierce the throat of the fifth.” The survivor will be left alone against the three of us. Are you happy with this option?
The attackers froze in a silent scene.
- Swords on the floor, immediately! Or what do you have there - pitchforks, skewers, picks, shovels? Put your hands behind your head and go down one by one,” said the formidable warrior. - Keep in mind, I'm not joking. On the count of three we shoot. Come on, come on! One! … Two!
- Stop! Do not shoot! We give up! - said the innkeeper, who quickly realized that no one would hold him accountable for the fact that he, not being a military man, considered it reasonable to submit to the brute force and superiority of the enemy.
The grooms obediently abandoned their primitive combat equipment, went down one by one, and each of them was tied by the servant of the fierce warrior with his hands and feet.
After this, de Lortie had no choice but to capitulate, while Francois brought out D'Elsorte, whom he was escorting, whom the victors then also tied up.
- But it seems you are not d'Artagnan! - exclaimed the fierce warrior.
“You are not the first to tell me this,” answered Francois, “so I am forced to believe your words.”
-Who the hell are you? - asked the brave warrior.
“I could ask you the same question, but I’ll refrain,” Francois smiled. “Whoever you are, you came on time, and I will tell Monsieur d’Artagnan that you showed extreme courage and exceptional timeliness in helping me, believing that you were helping him!”
- So you know him! - concluded the brave warrior. “I suppose your resemblance to him is not accidental.” It misled not only these fools, but also some more astute ones!
“That was his goal, as far as I can judge,” Francois smiled, “and that means I didn’t take up this matter in vain.” But since you have informed these gentlemen that they are mistaken about my name, there is absolutely no use in hiding it any further. So, gentlemen, I declare with all frankness that my name is not d'Artagnan, as gentleman just told you.
- Damn it! They tricked us! - exclaimed D'Elsorte.
- Glad to hear it! - exclaimed the unknown savior. “Well, young man, as I understand it, you have done Captain d’Artagnan some favor that he asked of you!” Therefore, you are his friend, which means you are mine too. Your hand!
“Fran;ois Perrin is at your service,” the young man answered, extending his hand to the unknown savior.
“Henri-Ren; d'Herblay, Bishop of Vannes,” answered the stranger, firmly shaking Francois's hand.
- How do we deal with them? - asked Francois, pointing to the prisoners.
“I have my own method,” answered Aramis, “but at the present time there is no time for it.” Let's tie them up and force them to drink a couple of bottles of undiluted wine from this scoundrel's cellar. This will give us a head start of ten to twelve hours, which is quite enough. Tell me, my friend, were there only two of them?
— There was another one, but he fell behind on the way! - exclaimed Francois.
“And you were driving from Pierrefonds,” Aramis nodded. “Well, we’ll have to come back for the third young man, otherwise the development of the situation will be uncontrollable.” Bazin, take care of these idiots. You heard what needs to be done with them. Since they are already tied up, all that remains is to give them something to drink. However, Mr. Francois, there are too many of them. I'm afraid someone might sneak away in a hurry. Stay and help Bazin deal with them, while I check our rear.
With these words, Aramis easily, like a young man, ran out of the inn, jumped on his horse and galloped towards the inn towards Pierrefonds, where Muston remained and Colbert’s third envoy spying on him.

LVI. Muston's Awakening

Muston was having a sweet dream when suddenly he felt something heavy squeezing his chest. He opened his eyes and found himself firmly tied to the bed on which he slept. In front of him stood a fierce-looking guardsman, who pointed a musket at him, apparently loaded.
- Gotcha, scoundrel! - exclaimed D'Elsorte. - Don't try to escape!
“Okay, I won’t try,” Muston agreed. “It’s not so easy to escape when you’re tied to the bed with such strong ropes.”
“That’s why don’t try,” the guardsman agreed. “You have committed a terrible state crime and are subject to the death penalty!”
“You know better, Mister Guardsman,” Muston agreed.
- There is an order from the King to this effect! - exclaimed D'Elsorte.
“Well, if so, then that’s probably how it is,” Muston nodded. - Just think about it! The King's order is about me! So, His Majesty knows about my existence? Does he know my name?
- Of course, scoundrel ! - exclaimed D'Elsorte. - We are ordered to kill you as soon as we find you, and under pain of death it is forbidden to communicate with you!
- Why are you communicating with me, good man? - asked Muston. - After all, they’ll have to kill you too, won’t they? You yourself said: “On pain of death, it is forbidden to communicate.”
- Damn, damn, damn! Shut up and answer: your name! - exclaimed the guardsman.
“You decide for yourself whether to shut up or answer, I can’t do both at the same time,” Muston answered humbly.
- You must say only your name, and nothing else! - D'Elsorte yelled, losing his composure.
“My name is Muston,” answered Muston.
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” D’Elsorte waved him off. “I’m asking about your noble name!”
- About my noble name? - Muston was surprised. - ABOUT! ABOUT! My noble name! You know, I’m unlikely to tell you this.
“Say it, scoundrel, or I’ll cut off your ears, and then something else!” - the guardsman growled. - Come on! Speak!
- Unfortunately, you were mistaken. “I’m not a nobleman,” Muston said modestly.
- You can’t fool me, I recognized you from your description! - exclaimed D'Elsorte. “You are a state criminal, Baron du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier!”
- Oh, oh! - said Muston. - I don’t dare...
- Shut up, scoundrel! Admit it, that’s your name, isn’t it? — the guardsman was indignant.
- What if it were so, you would kill me? - asked Muston.
“At that very moment, as soon as I make sure that you are this same state criminal,” answered d’Elsorte.
“As I understand it, there can be no question of leniency,” Muston sighed.
- Not the slightest chance! - exclaimed the guardsman. - Order of the King. Kill on sight. Without entering into conversations or negotiations. No arrest, just death on the spot!
“What a pity that my master is in such mortal danger,” Muston thought, “after all, he is so kind, and he has done so much for me. What a blessing that I had the opportunity to repay him with good for good!”
“In that case, my dear,” Muston said calmly, “you are absolutely right.” My name is Baron du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier.
- In the name of the King! - D'Elsorte exclaimed and plunged his sword into Muston's chest.
At this time, the doors of the tavern opened and Aramis appeared on the threshold, who knocked down the doors with one kick.
- Scoundrel! - he exclaimed. - Defend yourself!
The guardsman pulled the sword from Muston's chest and pointed it at Aramis.
“Defend yourself, for I do not kill the unarmed,” Aramis exclaimed again, after which he deftly repelled the guardsman’s attack and thrust his sword right into the heart of the scoundrel D’Elsorte.
- Die without remission of sins! - he said and ran up to the dying Muston.
-Can you hear me, my friend? - He asked Muston.
- Monsieur d'Herblay, is that you? - Muston whispered. - What happiness! Will you forgive me my sins?
- Yes, my friend, yes! - Aramis answered, taking Muston by the hand. “What sins could such a kind person like you have?”
- Remember how I stole bottles from the innkeeper using a rope loop? - Muston whispered.
“I forgive you this sin and all the sins of your stormy youth,” said Aramis, taking out a pectoral cross and applying it to the lips of the dying man.
“There is one more sin,” Muston whispered.
- Which one? - asked Aramis.
“Gluttony,” Muston whispered with all his strength.
- The Lord forgives you, my son! Rest in peace, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen!
A calm, happy smile froze on Muston’s face, after which he breathed his last.
Aramis closed Muston’s eyes with his fingers, kissed him on the forehead and said:
- Sleep well, comrade.
After that, he cut the ropes with which Muston was tied and threw them out the window.
Having searched the killed guardsman, he found a royal order in his pocket, the contents of which are already known to our readers. The order ordered the killing of state criminals, among whom were Athos, Porthos, Aramis and Viscount de Bragelonne. Aramis hid the order in his pocket and, closing the doors, went in search of the innkeeper.
“A terrible event happened in your tavern,” he said. “I was called to one dying person, but I found two. Apparently they fought and killed each other. This was probably a special duel, without seconds. Bury both of them according to Christian custom.
With these words, Aramis threw a purse with fifty pistoles onto the innkeeper's table and left the inn.

LVII. The Prisoner of Pignerol

Philip, placed in the Pignerol fortress, was ready to howl and climb the wall. Having spent almost his entire life in the dark about who he was, as a child he believed that his reclusive lifestyle was not the exception, but the rule.
Having received some books for general development, he first recognized life as some beautiful fairy tale that does not exist in the world, just as our children read fairy tales telling about all kinds of miracles, wizards, fairies, genies and peris, about carpets - airplanes and wooden flying horses. All this does not exist in life, but this does not prevent us from enjoying stories about such miracles. In the same way, Philip, reading books about real human life, believed that this was just a wonderful fiction.
As a young boy, he accidentally met the girl Catherine Charlotte de Gramont, who shook his imagination so much that he felt a strong desire to meet her again, talk to her, listen to her, and, perhaps, touch her hand someday. He didn’t even think about anything else. Then he realized that beautiful princesses exist not only in books, but also in life. If they had told him then that in life there were also genies, flying carpets and flying horses, he would have believed that too.
Over time, he learned to distinguish fairy tales from historical books and books describing the ordinary lives of people. He learned that other people live completely differently from the way he lives. They communicate freely, travel, walk and drive wherever they please. They make friends, get married, have children.
Their life is not limited to just one house or a few rooms in a fortress. In other words, they are happy, while he is imprisoned, as if he is being punished for a guilt unknown to him.
Nevertheless, over time, he got used to this unusual position of his, believing that if the Lord decided to settle him separately from other people, then this was his fate. He read books about the lives of schema monks and compared himself with them, believing his fate to be very similar to their lives. He indulged in prayers and asked the Lord to guide him on the true path.
This whole life broke down in one instant when he learned from the Abbot d'Herblay the truth about his amazing origin, that he was the brother of the King of France, and, moreover, a brother born almost at the same time from the same womb, from the same mother and the same father, and having the same appearance. Having learned that M. d'Herblay was not a simple abbot, but a bishop, he gained even more confidence in him. The bishop convinced him that Philip's rights were no less solid than Louis's, that the two brothers were completely equal in their rights, they were, as it were, one in two persons. He felt the same himself, comparing his reflection in the mirror with the portrait of the King.
If so, then his rights were grossly violated, because having the right to be not even the second in the Kingdom, but another first person in the state, he could count on at least half of France as his own patrimony, but instead he did not even receive a simple house with a small garden where he could live peacefully, enjoying nature and freedom. The injustice committed in relation to him seemed to him the highest injustice in the world for all time, because nowhere in the books, even in the Bible, did he find anything even remotely reminding him of such a monstrous injustice in relation to one of the brothers, with the completely lawless usurpation of all fullness of power by the second brother, who, strictly speaking, is no different from him, Philip.
The desire to receive his share of the kingdom, awakened in him by the Bishop of Vannes, was even inferior to the desire to place the usurper, the King of France, in the position that Philip occupied throughout his adult life.
But these two desires - to obtain legal rights and to punish the usurper - seemed to him just another fairy tale that would never come true.
Everything would have remained this way if not for the experiment, monstrous in its audacity and even more monstrous in its consequences, that the Bishop of Vannes performed on him.
He replaced him as King of France, placing Philip on the royal throne and Louis in prison. It seemed to Philip unthinkable, impossible, fabulous, but when it happened, he believed that now all of France looked at him with awe and saw in him their King, but that was not the main thing. The most important thing was that from now on he became a free man who controls his own destiny. It was not so important for him to control the fate of his subjects, what did he care about them! The main thing is to finally find your own freedom, to find yourself, to gain the right to love, to ordinary human joys and sorrows, instead of eternally being in the state of a prisoner, serving a punishment for other people's sins, for other people's injustice, for someone else's monstrous decision of his fate.
Having lived one single day as a King, he believed that all his days, his whole life, would now be like this, and falling asleep, he made plans for tomorrow, for the day after tomorrow, for months and years ahead. He must definitely find Catherine Charlotte de Gramont and see if she recognizes him. How sweet it would be to open up to her, reveal your secret! Life opened up thousands of opportunities for him for a happy and long life.
But, alas, the next morning he woke up in prison again, and did not even understand how he ended up in it again. Then the captain of the royal musketeers arrived and took him even further, infinitely far from Paris, from his brother the King, from the Queen Mother and from his younger brother, who bore the same name as him, and also from his crazy dream of Catherine Charlotte de Gramont.
Sometimes Philip thought that it would be better for him not to know any of this, and to continue to lead that lifestyle of an unknown prisoner of the Bastille. But at other moments he believed that the one day when he was King was worth all those days when he was a prisoner.
“If I could once again become the King of France, at least for one day,” thought Philip, “I would not put off until tomorrow the search for Mademoiselle Catherine Charlotte! I would live this day as if it were the last day of my life! How much brighter would my memories of this day be now, and yet I have nothing left except them!”
And Philip recalled the cruel words of Captain d'Artagnan that on that day he was not the King, but was just a puppet in the hands of the Bishop of Vannes, because he could not make a single decision on his own, but could only voice the orders that he was preparing would be a bishop for him. He hoped so much for his fatherly care, but the bishop disappeared and never appeared again! People, apparently, cannot be trusted, no one should be relied upon, no one should be counted on. You can only rely on yourself, only on your own strength, on your mind, on your understanding of life, on your opinion about what is good and what is bad for the country, for the people, for himself!”
Philip remembered that the captain told him about a book that contained information on the history of France and several neighboring states. In addition, the captain said that this book is written in two languages, which makes it possible to use it for learning Spanish. True, you won’t learn to speak it, but you can quite learn to read Spanish letters, especially since these two languages are not so different if you look at it, as Philip found out by comparing identical texts in two languages.
“I will study the history of France and Europe, I will learn as much Spanish as possible from this book! – Philip said to himself and resolutely opened the book. - God, what is this?
Several sheets of paper fell out of the book, covered in someone's confident and sweeping handwriting. Philip looked at the signature and was stunned: in the last lines of each letter there was one word: “Louis.”
These were letters from the King! How did the captain get them?
Philip, feeling a shiver of excitement, read these papers. The first paper contained an order to the captain of the musketeers to prepare the troops for the next parade. The second document contained an order to Mr. Fouquet to issue one hundred pistoles to the captain of the royal musketeers for state needs. The third letter was addressed to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, in which Louis begged her to return from the monastery.
“Each such paper was obtained with great difficulty,” thought Philip. - In order to preserve the second document, the captain spent his own hundred pistoles for state needs, preferring to keep the document giving him the right to receive them from the royal treasury. Most amazing of all is the last paper! Letter from the King to his beloved! It was a crime not to pass it on! Apparently, the captain persuaded Mademoiselle de La Valli;re to return from the monastery without resorting to the letter, because if he had shown it to the person to whom it was addressed, she would never have given it back to him! The captain didn’t just accidentally forget these letters in the book, he gave them to Philip so that he could practice writing in the same handwriting as Louis wrote, and even so that he could study his writing style in three types of royal letters! So, the captain does not exclude the possibility that someday Philip will be able to return to the throne?!
Philip's heart began to beat so hard that it seemed to him that someone was knocking on the shutters of his window. Finally realizing that he was embarrassed by the beating of his own heart, he tried to pull himself together and calm down.
“I must not entertain false hopes and live in vain illusions,” he said to himself, “but I must not miss such a wonderful opportunity to complete my education to such a level that if I am lucky enough to once again occupy the throne of the King of France, I will not be thrown off it.” as easy as it happened this time. I will seize this opportunity so much that even if Louis comes to arrest me with an entire army, I will order this army to arrest him himself, and we will see who will listen to him!”
Philip knew that, by order of the captain, his jailers supplied him with paper and a pen, but did not give him ink, and the inkwell contained only plain water. Thus, he could not write anything that would last long, but until the water dried up, he himself could read what was written.
“I am deprived of the opportunity to correspond, but I am given the opportunity to train my handwriting, to train my hand to write in the King’s handwriting easily and without stress!” Philip guessed and promised himself to study the King’s handwriting in detail and learn to write letters fluently so that even the King himself could not distinguish them from letters written by him with his own hand.
From that day on, Philip began to study the book and train his hand. He had no time to indulge in bitterness about his unfortunate fate, he stopped regretting the missed opportunity, he completely agreed with the opinion of the captain of the musketeers, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that, in fact, he did not get the opportunity to become King, he was only given a short opportunity to stay for a while time as a puppet of the Bishop of Vannes. In this case, there is nothing to regret! The most significant result of this trick of replacing the King was Philip's acquaintance with d'Artagnan! And if the captain believes that Philip can be a real King, and not a puppet of some courtier, perhaps he will give Philip a new chance to return to the place that he once occupied, but could not keep?!
From that day on, Philip’s life became different, it was filled with meaning, purpose, aspiration that could one day come true. He stopped reproaching fate for his past, he stopped lamenting for his present, he began to live in the future.

LVIII. Freedom for the prisoner!

-Where are we going? - asked Porthos at the next stop, necessary to change horses and have a quick bite.
- To Cannes, my friend, to Cannes! - answered d'Artagnan.
“The south coast suits me,” Porthos nodded. “I’m glad that you abandoned the idea of getting rid of me and exiling me to England.” I don't like swallowing mists.
“I did not abandon this thought, but for now I just put it aside, dear Porthos,” answered d’Artagnan. - Listen to me carefully. I won't repeat Aramis' mistake. He should have told you his entire plan from the very beginning, since you not only have amazing physical strength, but also an extremely fresh outlook on things.
“Yes, I don’t complain about my eyesight,” answered Porthos.
- That's it! - D'Artagnan smiled. - So, I’ll tell you everything without hiding. We are going to free the King's brother, Prince Philip.
“This is a noble cause,” Porthos agreed. “We’ll take him with us to England, the three of us will have more fun.”
- We won't take him to England, we'll take him to Paris! - objected the captain.
“It’s unlikely that we will be able to place a second King on the throne of France,” Porthos doubted.
“Two are not required, one is enough - Philip,” answered d’Artagnan.
“You want to replace them, like Aramis did,” Porthos nodded. - This is a good thing, but how do we do it?
“Believe me, Porthos, if I knew how to do this, I would tell you,” d’Artagnan answered hotly. “But at the present time, not only do I not have a plan for this part of my proposal, but I also do not have a reliable enough plan for the release of Philip. Honestly, I don't know how we'll do this!
“Then let’s get our bearings,” Porthos nodded. - This will require a lot of energy. And we haven't eaten for eight hours.
- You are right as always, Porthos! - the captain agreed. - Forgive my forgetfulness. In this inn we will correct this situation.
Half an hour later, the friends were sitting at a table richly laden with food, which d'Artagnan almost completely moved to Porthos, limiting himself to half a partridge and one cup of Anjou.
- I want to drink to the freedom of those who have every right to it! - said Porthos, raising a full cup of Angevin after his strong jaws had crushed and sent into his stomach the second half of a partridge and a hefty piece of ham.
- Freedom for the prisoner of absolutism! - D'Artagnan agreed.
— Will we also overthrow this absolutism? - asked Porthos after the Angevin went after the partridge and ham.
“We’ll see according to the circumstances,” answered the captain. “We shouldn’t rush into such drastic changes; first, let’s take a closer look at his surroundings.”
“Disposition on the ground, I understand,” said Porthos, cutting off another piece of ham and filling the goblet.
“Speaking of disposition, Porthos,” d’Artagnan picked up. - Be careful in Cannes, there may be a lot of Colbert's spies there. Let's go there under the guise of greengrocers and take a closer look at what's what. If we arrive there on horseback and with swords, I believe that we will have to force our way to the coast, and even our strength may not be enough for this.
- Damn Colbert is making me hide! - exclaimed Porthos. “Someday I’ll grab his skinny neck with this hand, after which...
“I see, I see...” nodded D’Artagnan. — There is common sense in your approach. But more on that later.
“As you say,” Porthos agreed, breaking off a large piece of cheese from a head of cheese and deftly throwing it into his mouth, like a small pea.

On the last stage on the way to Cannes, d'Artagnan was extremely silent and thoughtful. At the next tavern, leaving the grooms to take care of the horses, the captain invited Porthos to take a walk along the alley.
“Porthos, I’ve thought it over, you can’t be hidden under any clothes,” he said softly. “Besides, one scout can see a lot more than two because it attracts less attention.”
“I’m tired of being in the shadows, hiding, avoiding battles and pretending to be a simple townsman,” Porthos sighed. - After all, I, damn me, am a baron!
- Remember, Baron, who gave you this title? - asked d'Artagnan.
- His Majesty the King of France! - Porthos said proudly, but stopped short. - Oh, well, yes, King...
“The same one who ordered to kill you, Baron du Valon,” nodded the captain. “And you are dead, Your Grace.” In my hands is a document that irrefutably proves this fact.
“How unpleasant it is to be a dead man,” Porthos grumbled. “The next time they kill me, I will sell my life dearly!”
“The two dozen guardsmen who remained buried in the Lokmaria cave, I think, do not think that they bought your life cheap,” d’Artagnan grinned. “However, in order to discuss with them this aspect of the price of your brightest life, we should join them, and this is precisely what I would advise you not to rush into, dear friend.” You are full of strength, vigor and optimism, and it would be extremely disappointing if the cause of your next death was youthful carelessness. Moreover, this second death may not be on paper, but in reality, which would be extremely upsetting for me.
“Perhaps for me too,” Porthos agreed. - Well, if you assure me that my help is not needed for the disposition, I am ready to wait.
“Your help, Porthos, is almost always needed, but not this time!” - repeated the captain. — It would be madness to come to Cannes with you. I'll scout out the situation and, if possible, hire a ship. I will tell him to pick us up away from prying eyes, and we will go to the island of Saint-Marguerite. I will really need your help there, believe me! Perhaps we will have to shoot, fence, and also break down the doors and bars of the castle!
- It suits me! - exclaimed the giant. “You have restored my good spirits!”
“Well, then, settle down with your spirit here in the inn, and wait for me at midnight,” answered d’Artagnan, patted his friend on the shoulders and left the inn.

 LIX. What d'Artagnan managed to find out

At midnight d'Artagnan returned to the inn with a man. He was extremely excited, but Porthos could not understand from his appearance whether the captain brought him pleasant or unpleasant news.
“Porthos, I have learned enough to make a further plan,” d’Artagnan said to the baron. - This man's name is du Chantet. He is Aramis' messenger.
- Aramis's messenger? - Porthos exclaimed joyfully. - So he was saved! God bless! — the baron continued to rejoice, after which he suddenly stopped. - How do we know we can trust him?
“He produced this letter,” said the captain, handing Porthos a small piece of paper.
Porthos unfolded the paper and recognized his friend's calligraphic handwriting. The letter read:

“To the one from whom the letter was stolen in Menge. The bearer of this paper, Lieutenant du Chante, is my faithful agent. The one who dropped Marie Michonne's handkerchief."

- Well, it's not a fake! - Porthos nodded. - Your hand, du Chante!
- Be careful, Porthos, don’t break his wrist! - D'Artagnan warned. - Du Chante, tell me everything you told me.
“I saw the captain and recognized him, because I had seen him before and knew him well,” said du Chante. “I must warn you against Colbert’s traps.”
- Thank you, Lieutenant! - exclaimed Porthos. - We have been warned, now go ahead!
- Cool down, Porthos! - D'Artagnan said softly. - Sit down and listen to the end. Lieutenant, please, start with something pleasant.
“I believe, Baron, you will be pleased to know that your friends Comte de La F;re and Viscount de Bragelonne are alive,” said du Chantet.
-Are they alive?! - cried Porthos. - I don’t know how it happened, but I believe you! Let me hug you!
- I don't allow it! - d'Artagnan resolutely objected. “Porthos, your embrace threatens the lieutenant with mortal danger.”
“In that case, I’ll just hold you very gently to my chest,” Porthos agreed and, indeed, tried not to hug the lieutenant too much and only patted him lightly on the back.
- Tell us how it happened! Porthos exclaimed impatiently after the lieutenant squared his shoulders and mentally thanked the captain for not allowing Porthos to hug him with all his might.
“We have assigned the task from the monsignor,” he said. “During the sally, the Viscount was wounded and fell into a trench, from where we carried him out after the Turks retreated, and our compatriots who made the sally returned to the fortress, taking two prisoners. Here is how it was. There were three of us - me, Lieutenant d'Aunay and Second Lieutenant de Trabuson. We observed the sortie without interfering with it, as we were instructed by the monsignor. When the moon appeared from behind the clouds, we saw that the Duke de Beaufort was bravely leading his small detachment into battle. On his left was the Comte de Guiche, on his right was the Viscount de Bragelonne. The Duke pierced one of the Turkish officers with his sword, he, dying, grabbed the sword by the hilt, tearing it out of the Duke’s hands, and fell into the trench. The Viscount at that moment struck another Turkish officer, snatched a short broadsword from his hands and armed himself with it, and quickly handed over his sword to the Duke de Beaufort. The battle continued more and more fiercely, the Duke broke through to the artilleryman, who pointed his weapon at a small detachment of French. If the cannon had been loaded with grapeshot and if he had managed to fire the shot, it would have been all over for the French. The Duke ran up to the artilleryman, snatched the torch from his hands and threw it towards the barrels of gunpowder standing behind the Turk. There was a deafening explosion. Unfortunately, the cannon flew forward and, dragging the Duke with it, fell halfway into the trench, where it crushed him to death. The Viscount was stunned by the explosion and also fell into the trench, but was only covered with earth. Almost immediately, both sides of the fighting retreated: the Turks, considering that the forces were too unequal, the French, apparently, considered the sortie successful. They managed to destroy two cannons and bring down several mines. We immediately made our way into the trench and dug up the Viscount. He was unconscious, but alive and not even injured. Following the instructions of the monsignor, we poured into his mouth the sleeping pills with which he provided us, and instructed de Trabuson to transport him to the mainland in one of the small longboats.
- Truly a remarkable rescue! - exclaimed Porthos. - But poor Duke de Beaufort! He died like a hero!
“I completely share your opinion, Baron, but listen to what happened next,” continued du Chantet. “Lieutenant d’Aunay and I, having in hand documents from the King ordering us to carry out a special investigation and obliging all officers to assist us, came to the fortress the next morning in order to fulfill the second part of the monsignor’s order. It was much easier with this. Lieutenant d'Aunay mixed sleeping pills into a bottle of wine and left this bottle in the count's room. I was afraid that this step would lead to nothing, since, as I knew, the count did not drink wine at all. However, apparently, being in a state of despair over the death of his son, the count decided to break his vow of abstinence from wine. He, as it turned out, drank the entire bottle. Fortunately, the dose of sleeping pills was carefully calculated, and this special sleeping pill is practically harmless, so although the count was completely unconscious, so much so that even the doctor who was with the commandant recognized him as a dead man, the count remained alive. Lieutenant d'Aunay and I informed the commandant that the mission entrusted to us was to retrieve the count's corpse, which we did, transporting him to the mainland. On the way, I constantly massaged the count’s arms and legs to ensure a flow of fresh blood to them. We then transported the Earl and his son to Scotland, to an estate called...
- Monkville! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - A small house under the canopy of trees on the banks of the River Clyde!
“Yes, captain,” agreed the lieutenant. - How do you know?
“This house belongs to me, and a year ago I ordered three additional sets of keys to be made for it. I put these keys in three envelopes, and wrote a letter in each.
- I remember! - Porthos nodded. — I received such a letter. It said: “Dear friend! I once performed a small favor for General Monck, which did not in the least interfere with the interests of France. The general was so kind that he thanked me with a gift, which I am unlikely to be able to use. He told me: “On the banks of the Clyde I have a little house under the shade of trees; We call it a cottage. The house has several hundred acres of land. Accept it from me! and handed me the keys to the cottage. Whenever you find yourself in Scotland, you can have this home as your own. Your loving Charles Ogier de Batz de Castelmore, Comte d'Artagnan."
“I sent the same letter to Aramis and Athos,” agreed d’Artagnan. - This means that my friends are alive and are visiting me! I'm almost happy!
— I was wondering when did you become a count? - said Porthos.
“I’ll tell you about this little adventure that happened to me between our first long separation and our second meeting later,” the captain smiled.
- Athos and Raoul are alive! I want to hug them! - Porthos shed tears.
- Listen, Porthos! Even at the risk of you breaking young Raoul’s bones, I, too, passionately desire only this and nothing else! Damn you completely! I'm dragging you all over France, which is infested with Colbert's bloodhounds, sorry, Lieutenant, this does not apply to you and your friends, and I beg you to hide in England, Spain, Italy, or Portugal, damn it! Instead, you are looking for adventures with me, not realizing that every second you can be arrested, executed, quartered, hanged and burned! You are tearing my heart, which has already experienced too much in the last month. If you do not immediately leave France with this dear lieutenant, I will immediately challenge you to a duel and allow you to kill me! I'm tired of trying to persuade you to care about your life a little more than I care about it, or at least just as much.
“If you’re so tired of me and you don’t want to see me,” said Porthos.
“I wish to see you not so often and not in France,” answered the captain, “and I wish to see you as long as possible in freedom, alive, fat and beautiful!” I wish you well, my dear, and I only care about you!
“The last time such words were spoken to me one-on-one was by my mother, who forbade me to pull catfish out of the water with my bare hands,” Porthos sighed.
- And were they big catfish? - asked d'Artagnan .
“Not too big,” Porthos answered with a sigh. - Thirty pounds.
- How old were you when you pulled thirty-pound catfish out of a hole? - the captain was surprised.
“Probably twelve or thirteen,” answered Porthos.
- So listen, Baron du Valon! - said d'Artagnan. “The time has come to tell this story about catfish to the Count de La F;re and the Viscount de Bragelonne.” This is urgent. You are leaving for Scotland tomorrow, accompanied by the kind Lieutenant du Chante! Or I can't vouch for myself.
“This is in accordance with the spirit of the orders we received from Monseigneur,” agreed du Chantet. “He ordered you to be taken there, captain, but there was not a word about the baron, because...
“Because the monsignor understood that the baron would go with me,” d’Artagnan hastened to intervene.
“The monsignor assumed that the baron...” continued du Chantet.
“His assumptions were too pessimistic,” the captain nodded.
- That's right, captain! Du Chantet agreed.
“I need to settle some small matters in Paris, after which I will join you, Baron, the Count and the Viscount, where, I hope, we will have the happiness of seeing Monsignor too!”
- All four of us are together again! - exclaimed Porthos.
- And even five. By the way, Porthos, have you thought about having a son? - D'Artagnan smiled. - We will definitely marry you in Scotland!
“God be with you, d’Artagnan, your jokes are always there,” Porthos smiled.
- Du Chante, he agrees, go! — the captain summed up the conversation.
- Excuse me, but we were going to... Saint-Marguerite Island, have you forgotten? - asked Porthos, catching himself.
“I don’t forget anything, Porthos, but that’s impossible now.” Colbert's spies are swarming in Nantes. We will simply be captured. I will accompany you to Marseilles and see that you board the ship. I must be sure that you have sailed, Porthos! While you are in France, my heart is not in the right place. Besides, Porthos, I will have a very delicate task for you.
“Do you find me a suitable person for delicate assignments?” - Porthos was surprised.
“I know what an excellent and delicate service you rendered to Raoul in resolving his questions with Monsieur de Saint-Etienne regarding his move, the staircase and the portrait,” said the captain.
- Oh, this! - exclaimed the Baron. “I have an abyss of delicacy in matters of this kind.” Who needs to be challenged to a duel this time?
- Challenge, but not to a duel, my friend! - D'Artagnan objected softly. — At the court of King Charles II there is a lady-in-waiting or something like that, a certain Miss Mary Grafton .
“Let’s assume so,” Porthos smiled, twirling his mustache.
“This girl, it seems to me, is much more worthy of the love of our dear Raoul than Mademoiselle Louise de La Valli;re.”
- I have no doubt about it, since you think so! - the baron agreed. “I will tell you on honor that since Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, as I happened to find out, is no longer a mademoiselle, and, perhaps, will soon not even be a de La Valli;re at all, then it would be high time for dear Raoul to forget and throw away such mademoiselles long ago.” her out of my head. They say she's pregnant.
- Porthos! Where do you manage to get this information? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“I sometimes look closely at the innkeepers’ wives and other village women, and sometimes out of boredom I listen to what they are gossiping about,” answered Porthos. “Most often it’s all nonsense, but sometimes you learn the funniest stories.”
“Well then, consider that the wife of an innkeeper told me that our Raoul would not have remained indifferent to the merits of the said Miss Mary Grefton if the young man’s head and heart had not been occupied with Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, unworthy of his love.” As for the said Miss Mary Grefton, I repeat this name so that you remember it well, so this same Miss Mary Grefton by no means remained indifferent to the merits of young Raoul. Do me a favor, Porthos, invite on my behalf the said miss, not alone, of course, but with an escort that will make her visit completely social and will not cast any shadow on her, to my excellent house, which is located on the banks of the Clyde in Scotland.
“Doesn’t this Miss Mary Grafton have an aunt, preferably a widow, no older than, say, thirty-five to thirty-eight years?” - asked Porthos.
- Find out on the spot, dear Porthos! I entrust you with this most important task. And secret! - D'Artagnan exclaimed and clapped Porthos on the shoulder.
- Hm, hm! - Porthos exclaimed, twirling his mustache. “I believe I can carry out this secret assignment with the utmost delicacy!”
- Definitely invite your aunt, Porthos! - the captain burst out laughing. - Or even two! Remember: nothing should cast a shadow on the integrity of Miss Mary Grafton! Two or three aunties are the best guardian of her morality and purity!
“Well, auntie, it’s clear,” Porthos agreed. - Or two. Or three.
- But no more! - clarified d'Artagnan. “Otherwise Athos will leave us.” Remember that he is not a lover of women!
- Not a fan? - Porthos smiled. - Where did he get his son from then?
- Damn it, Porthos! You won't be fooled! — the captain admired the baron’s resourcefulness and pushed Porthos forcefully on the shoulder, causing him to sway only slightly.
After that, the friends laughed cheerfully and loudly.

 LX. South coast

Meanwhile, the bound de Lortie, d'Elsorte, as well as the innkeeper and his three grooms lay on the floor of the inn. Bazin poured two bottles of Angevin into each of them, and he hung a “Closed” sign on the door of the tavern. None of the grooms objected to this method of dealing with them; the innkeeper resisted only for show, and the resistance of de Lortie and d'Elsorte, although more decisive, still did not prevent Bazin from carrying out Aramis' orders. So all five of them snored unconsciously for the next five hours. They would have continued sleeping, but the innkeeper’s wife, who had returned from the market, considered this a disgrace and doused first the grooms, and then her dear husband, with a bucket of water.
Having come to his senses, the innkeeper hastened to wake up the two guards, although in a more delicate way, but no less effective: he grabbed each by the shoulders in turn and shook them until he woke them up. The two spies, as soon as they came to their senses, hurried to somehow put themselves in order and set off in pursuit of Aramis, who, however, by this time had galloped far enough so as not to fear their pursuit.
Aramis, together with Bezmo, hurried to Cannes, where junior lieutenant de Trabuson was waiting for him at the appointed place, in the Burgundy Sunset tavern.
“ Are there many of Colbert’s spies here? ” - Aramis inquired busily from de Trabuson.
“At least two hundred officers,” answered the lieutenant, “and hundreds of times more soldiers.”
“Well, this is a difficulty,” said Aramis. — Are the two longboats ready? Are they fast enough? How many soldiers do you have?
“We have twenty men under our command,” replied de Trabuson. “Two longboats are waiting for you, monsignor, as ordered on the eastern shore of the Pointe Croisette peninsula.” Weapons, bullets and gunpowder are prepared and loaded into longboats.
“Well, we’re going out to sea tonight,” Aramis ordered. -Where is Lieutenant D'Aunay currently located?
“He leads the soldiers next to the longboats,” replied de Trabuson.
“We’re going out tonight,” said Aramis. - Bazin, you know where to wait for us.
Bazin nodded.
“We’re going,” said Aramis, “it’s already getting dark.” When we get there, it will be the right time to set sail.
After these words, Aramis and de Trabuson galloped towards the Pointe Croisette peninsula. When the travelers reached the shore, where two longboats were waiting for them, it was already quite dark. De Trabuson whistled twice, after which a man separated from one of the longboats and headed towards them. It was Lieutenant D'Aunay . Having greeted the arrivals, he said that both longboats were ready to sail.
“Monseigneur,” de Trabuson addressed Aramis. “There are still many of Colbert’s spies in the city and in the surrounding area.” If we return from an expedition to the island with whatever you want to go there for, we may run into an ambush here on this coast. I propose that one of us stay here, and if there is no danger, the one who remains here will light a small fire and can give us a sign, for example, blocking the fire from the sea with his cloak several times in a row. If such a sign is not given, then an ambush awaits us on the shore.
“That’s reasonable,” Aramis agreed. - Which of the two will remain, you or Lieutenant d'Aunay?
“We will cast lots,” replied de Trabuson.
He picked up a small stick from the ground, broke it into two unequal parts and held the fragments in his hand so that only two identical ends were visible.
“Pull, Lieutenant,” he said. - Whoever gets the long stick stays on the shore.
Without thinking, the lieutenant pulled out one of the sticks.
“You have pulled out a long one, Lieutenant,” said de Trabuson, throwing his stick onto the sand. - You stay.
“Okay,” the lieutenant answered and headed deeper into the shore, where he disappeared into the shadows of the trees.
“Get into the longboat, monseigneur,” said de Trabuson, I will just give some instructions to the soldiers in the other longboat.
He approached the second longboat, standing some distance away, talked about something with the soldiers, after which he returned to Aramis and said:
“The soldiers said that that longboat was faster and more reliable. Go to that longboat, monsignor, I will brief the soldiers in this longboat and join you.
Soon both longboats set sail from the shore and went out to sea.
When both longboats had sailed from the shore to half the distance of a musket shot, de Trabuson said to Aramis:
- Monsignor, now the soldiers will set the sail, and we will sail faster, but for now you can rest.
As soon as he uttered the word “rest”, six soldiers pounced on Aramis, grabbing his arms and legs. Four others pointed their muskets at him. The second longboat also bristled with guns aimed at Aramis.
“Monsignor, you are my prisoner,” he said with a smile. “I don’t advise you to resist.” Lieutenant d'Aunay remained on the shore, and no one will help you. The soldiers were ordered to shoot at any attempt to resist, as well as at any attempt on your part to say even a word or make at least some kind of gesture. Not a single word, not a single gesture, not a single movement of even a finger, or you will be shot immediately. I hope you got what I meant.
After this, de Trabuson addressed the soldiers:
- Tie him up, put a gag in his mouth and put a bag on his head! We will drive a little west along the coast and land where I indicate. A reliable army awaits us, and you, my friends, will receive a reward for your faithful service to the King!
The soldiers briefly shouted “Vivat to the King” and the longboat carried Aramis in the direction opposite to where he was going to go.

LXI. King Louis XIV

Heading to the King, d'Artagnan did not meet Colbert and decided that this was a good sign. In addition, he did not have to wait long in the waiting room for his time; the King agreed to receive him almost immediately after his arrival was announced.
Therefore, the captain entered Louis’s office in high spirits, however, as soon as he crossed the threshold, he realized that such a mood did not fit in with the news that he was supposed to bring to the King.
Louis XIV slowly turned his head towards the captain as he entered and extended his hand for a kiss. On d'Artagnan's face he saw only traces of the deepest sorrow, which the captain was trying in vain to suppress in order to show his loyal feelings. The King liked this, so he graciously allowed the captain to sit down.
“You have returned ahead of schedule, d’Artagnan,” he said. “Does this mean that you have already completely completed the task entrusted to you, or did you come to inform me of the impossibility of completing it?”
“I completed three-quarters of the task entrusted to me in half the allotted time, Your Majesty,” the captain replied with a bow, “and therefore I ask Your Majesty’s permission to complete the remaining quarter of the task to spend the remaining time for me, for which I will need a passport signed by a person no lower than a marshal.” France. Without such a passport, as I was convinced, it is impossible to travel by ship abroad, where the Bishop of Vannes is currently staying. As for the rest of the persons, in relation to the order received from you, they will no longer cause any concern to Your Majesty.
With these words and with an expression of the greatest sorrow on his face, d'Artagnan produced from a large pocket on the inside of his jacket three death certificates, which stated that the Baron du Valon had died in the cave of Lokmaria on the island of Belle-Ile, the Viscount Raoul de Bragelon had died during a sortie from the fortress of Candia on the island of Crete, and Count de La F;re died in his bed in the same fortress from an excess of sleeping pills, taken along with wine at his own request. The first document was certified by the notary of Pierrefonds, Master Gortier, the other two - by the commandant of the Grimaldi fortress.
The king carefully studied all three documents, and then asked:
- How much did these three documents, which are so similar to the real ones, cost you, captain?
“They cost me ten years of my life, if not more, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan.
“Are you saying that the desire to receive the marshal’s baton overpowered your sense of friendship, and for this reason you took the necessary steps to ensure that these documents were not an empty fake, but corresponded to the true state of affairs?” - the King asked in disbelief.
“I want to say, Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan, jumping up from his chair and kneeling on one knee in front of the King, “that I would not lift a finger to get the marshal’s baton not only at the price you are talking about.” say, but even if for this it would be enough for me to just knock an apple from a tree with a musket shot from a distance of ten steps. I do not want this position and this rod, and I will ask for resignation after the final fulfillment of all points of the order, but I carried out your order to the extent that it was in my power, since, being in the service of Your Majesty, I was obliged to do this, and also since I have tried to do everything possible so that the good name of the gentlemen mentioned in these documents is not subject to disgrace and persecution out of respect for the physical condition in which they henceforth reside. Human judgment no longer has power over them, and I hope that God’s judgment over them will be fair.
“Well, captain, as I see, you have finally realized that in France there is no one else’s will other than the will of the King of France, my will!” And that fulfilling my will is the sacred duty of all subjects of this state. Have you realized that the state is me, that France and Louis the Fourteenth are synonymous?
“I see, Your Majesty, that you are absolutely right,” answered d’Artagnan. - The policy of France is the policy of Your Majesty, and the wishes of Your Majesty are orders for all of France.
“By my will, people who obey me acquire positions and wealth, and those who oppose me are deprived of both, and sometimes freedom and even life!” - Louis said quietly in such a tone that d'Artagnan felt a shiver run down his spine. “The people who encroached on me had to die, and they will die, every single one.” Those who tried to take Mademoiselle away from me with their vile intrigues also got it in full. Everything I touch becomes sacred to all of France and will probably soon become sacred to all of Europe. If I glance at a young lady in my kingdom, it means that this person belongs to me and only me. This person couldn't have a more fianc; or friend! - At these words, Louis’s face distorted with anger. “I hope the Viscount de Bragelonne realized this before he died!” A man who decides that he may not give something or someone to his King should consider it an honor to be able to give his life for his King in battle, for if fate had not dealt with him in this way, he would have given his life in agony here in Paris!
D'Artagnan bowed his head low so that the King would not see the lightning that flashed in his eyes at these words.
“You are a faithful servant and an excellent warrior, captain!” - continued the King. “I see no reason why you should refuse the title that you deserve.” I have already ordered the baton of the Marshal of France to be made for you, and you can look at it, but you yourself admitted that one thing remains unfulfilled. I myself will write you a pass for traveling abroad by sea or land. You will receive all the help you need from the army and navy, and this time you will not have officers assigned to you whose duty it will be to protect you from mistakes. Do you see how much trust I have in you? But I will give you this letter tomorrow, today I allow you to take a break from your labors. The day that you lose for rest will not count towards the thirty days that I gave you to carry out my order. You will come to me tomorrow at exactly noon, receive all the necessary powers and documents securing them, and upon your return, if successful, this will await you,” with these words the King pointed to the box on his table, in which, obviously, lay the staff Marshal of France.
D'Artagnan stood up, bowed his head and left without even looking at the box.

At that very moment when d'Artagnan was descending the stairs of the Palais Royal and thinking about how and where to spend the unexpectedly fallen day intended for rest, the King rang the bell and briefly said to the footman who came to see him:
- Colbert to me.
He said to Colbert, who appeared almost immediately, without even having time to invite him to sit down:
- Mister Colbert! Captain d'Artagnan returned to me with papers stating that three of the four state criminals were dead. These are the papers. I don't believe them. Establish even more thorough surveillance of the captain, but such that he does not guess about it. No guards. These should be ordinary townspeople. Do you understand me, Colbert? Not guardsmen in uniform and not guardsmen dressed as ordinary citizens. These should be the most ordinary townspeople, of different ages and genders, people no different from those Parisians whom you usually see on the street, including even ordinary street urchins.
- It's already done, Your Majesty! - Colbert answered with a bow.
- How about that? - the King was surprised with admiration. “Well, go ahead and don’t miss him this time.”
When Colbert left the King's office and turned away for the moment it took him to open the doors, admiration disappeared in Louis's gaze and hatred appeared.
“This man anticipates all my desires,” he thought. “This is very convenient while I am fighting obvious enemies, but it will be very inconvenient when all the obvious enemies are defeated and I remain surrounded by hidden enemies!” What else do I not know about this man and what else does he know about me that I am not aware of? Perhaps my brother’s secret is also known to him?”
He wanted to stop Colbert and tell him that after solving all the problems with the captain and his friends, he would relieve Colbert of police duties and leave them with only financial responsibilities, but he immediately realized that he should never inform his subjects about his plans for them.
“Everyone must find out their fate when nothing can be changed,” he thought. “And no one should ever be sure that his current high position will remain the same tomorrow.” This will not allow them to relax and force them to dig the ground in order to prove their loyalty to me every day and every hour. And the absence of such evidence will serve as evidence of disloyalty! For too long and too many people have deceived me in this state, I will not allow them to do this anymore.”
Then he remembered Mademoiselle de La Valli;re. Over the past time, they managed to make peace, and she was even expecting a child.
“The Lavaliere children will be the children of the King and no one, not even my wife, will ever dare to offend them or their mother. Only my desires and my will should be the law for France.”
After that, he remembered the phrase he said to the captain. He liked it so much that he even decided to record it. Approaching the writing table, he took a blank sheet of paper and, dipping his pen in ink, wrote down: “The State is me,” after which he put his ornate signature at the bottom.
Satisfied with himself, he went to the window and looked at the sky in which the bright Sun was shining.
“Just as there is no one in the sky equal to the Sun, there should be no one in France equal to me! - he thought, after which he felt a strange fear. - Philip! - he suddenly thought with horror. - Pignerol is not so far away that you can stop fearing a possible repetition of that terrible day, which you would so like to forget, but you can’t! Well, I’ll deal with this problem too.”
 
At dinner the King ate almost nothing. It seemed to him that time was passing too quickly, and the events that he expected, for some reason, were in no hurry to happen.
When dessert was served, he saw Colbert at the door, who bowed his head respectfully, but did not take his eyes off the King's face.
Louis feigned a question, raising his face upward and pointing his pointed beard at Colbert, to which Colbert responded with a second bow, while lowering his eyes to the floor. After this, the King gave Colbert a benevolent smile and decided to make up for dessert with all the food that he had not eaten during the preliminary part of the meal.
“The King has a craving for sweets,” the Queen Mother whispered to her daughter-in-law. - Don't miss your chance! Perhaps tonight he will visit you, and not this one...
“The Queen is very kind to me,” replied Maria Theresa.
“Don’t be upset, dear,” whispered Anna of Austria. “No matter how many bastards your ladies-in-waiting produce, only your son will be King of France.” Even if he is not the son of the King of France. Queen Mothers have been telling this joke to their daughters-in-law for over a hundred years. At one time she made me very happy and calmed me down.
After that, Anna kissed her daughter-in-law on the cheek and lightly pinched her left hand.
Maria Theresa had no choice but to pretend that she did not understand at all what was being said.
As soon as dinner was over, the King hurried to his office.
“Mr. Colbert...” the footman barely managed to say.
- Yes! Ask! - Louis answered impatiently.
As soon as Colbert entered the room with his soft step, Louis asked impatiently:
-Did you take it?!
- Yes, Your Majesty. They took it and brought it here.
“Did he try to say anything?” Make any gestures? — the King asked warily.
“He was deprived of this opportunity from the very beginning, according to Your Majesty’s instructions,” Colbert replied.
“This is very good, Monsieur Colbert, I am pleased with you,” said the King, rubbing his hands. - Where is he? Lead him.
“Our people tied his hands and feet, and I would not recommend untying them...” said Colbert.
- Then bring it in! - the King exclaimed impatiently.
- This way, what about your chambers? Colbert asked.
- Why not? - the King was surprised. “However, this is really not convenient,” he said after some thought. Take him to the Bastille. I'll talk to him there tomorrow. Prepare a chamber in which two steel rings should be embedded into the wall at opposite walls. He should be chained to one of them by his feet, give him food and drink, I do not want him to die of hunger or thirst prematurely. Everything has its time.
And prepare two thick bags and additional shackles. That's all.

LXII. The King visits the Bastille

At exactly noon, d'Artagnan appeared before the King.
“Get the order you wanted, Mister Captain, and you can go to capture the Bishop of Vannes,” the King told him, handing him a document with his signature. - Read, is everything in this document written down as you wanted for the success of the operation ahead of you?
“Everything is exactly as required, Your Majesty,” answered the captain, having familiarized himself with the document.
- Then go, I won’t delay you any longer! - answered the King and released d'Artagnan with a gesture of his right hand.
The captain headed towards the exit, but as soon as he grabbed the door handle, the King exclaimed:
- However, wait a minute! One thought came to my mind. Before you go on your search, you and I will go to Fouquet and ask him some questions so that it will be easier for you to find the bishop. He will be able to clarify something as to where the Bishop of Vannes might first go.
“It’s doubtful that Mr. Fouquet will be able to clarify anything for us,” the captain shrugged. - However, if Your Majesty considers it necessary...
“You forget that it was Fouquet who told me that the Bishop of Vannes, together with Baron du Valon, headed to the Belle-Ile fortress. His information turned out to be extremely accurate. Let's try to find out from him additional information about the places where the bishop can hide.
- Why should Your Majesty bother himself? - asked d'Artagnan. “I can go and ask him these questions myself, I just need an order for interrogation.”
“You ask me for one paper after another, captain,” the King said with a laugh, “one might think that you are collecting a collection of my orders!” Meanwhile, everyone else only asks me for higher positions and more money. As for money, these requests come with enviable regularity even from all members of my family!
“My salary, which Your Majesty deigned to assign me, is enough for me,” d’Artagnan answered with dignity. “I do not aspire to a higher position , as I had the honor to inform Your Majesty yesterday.” I need papers with Your Majesty's signature only to carry out Your Majesty's orders.
“Okay, okay,” the King smiled. - Let's go. The carriage is ready. I myself want to look at Fouquet and talk to him. There are still a few questions left that I would like answers to.
“I will order the protection of Your Majesty,” the captain hastened to say.
- I already took care of everything, captain! - the King objected softly. - Let's go.
- But my musketeers...
“Your musketeers are in training today under the leadership of Senior Lieutenant d’Arlencourt, your deputy,” answered the King. “There will be enough guardsmen.”
“But such a clear violation of subordination and etiquette, Your Majesty,” said the captain.
“And we are going unofficially,” Ludovic smiled. “That’s why we don’t need official security.” It is not necessary to announce to all of Paris that the King is going to the Bastille to visit one of the prisoners. Let's go.
The captain bowed and left the chamber, following the King a little behind and to the right.
When d'Artagnan saw that twenty guards were waiting at the carriage, his heart began to beat restlessly, but the King said to him light-heartedly:
- Take command of my guard, captain!
After these words, d'Artagnan ran up to the carriage and opened its door in front of the King. As soon as the King climbed into the carriage, the captain closed the door and jumped onto the horse, which was immediately brought to him.
- Guard of the King! - he shouted the usual command. “Ten six people with me are in front of the carriage, the rest are behind the carriage!” To the Bastille!
And the cavalcade headed to the Bastille for a meeting with M. Fouquet.

When the carriage approached the Bastille, the King said to the captain:
“We’ll leave the carriage and guards here at the gate.” I don't want Monsieur de Bezmeaux to know who is visiting him. I'll put on a mask.
“In that case, we won’t be allowed into the Bastille!” - the captain was surprised.
“You forget, captain, that the King can always have a corresponding order signed by the King!” - Louis objected softly and pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four from behind the lapel of his sleeve.
Having shown the guard the paper so that d'Artagnan had no opportunity to read it, the King, taking the captain by the arm, entered the gate that opened in front of him, after which this strange couple went up to Monsieur de Bezmeaux's room.
Without removing his mask, the King placed an order in front of Bezmo.
The commandant unfolded it, read it, then bowed deeply and, taking a bunch of keys, led his guests along the prison corridor.
- Go, my dear, we will catch up with you! - said King Bezmo, after which he quietly turned to d'Artagnan. - Mister Captain, I wouldn’t want you to know which cell Mister Fouquet is in, so let me blindfold you.
The captain bowed his head respectfully, the King took a bandage from his pocket and blindfolded d'Artagnan with his own hands.
“Your Majesty, I don’t see where I should go,” answered d’Artagnan, suspecting evil.
“It’s okay, there’s not long to go,” Louis replied, “hold my hand and listen to my instructions.” There are two steps down here. Tilt your head to avoid hitting yourself. Great, now turn right. Now here. Sit down, don't be afraid.
D'Artagnan sat down on the terribly cold bench.
— Another small formality, Mr. Captain. Commandant, please! - said the King, after which d'Artagnan felt some kind of fuss at his feet and heard two distinct clicks.
- Thank you, Commandant. We will call you,” said the King.
As soon as the front door of the cell closed, Louis said:
“That’s all, Mister Captain, now you can take off your mask!”
He uttered these words from some distance.
D'Artagnan took off the blindfold and saw that he was sitting in a spacious cell on a stone bench, and his legs were attached with iron chains to the foot of this bench, so that he could stand up or lie down, but he could not move more than half a step away from it. . At the opposite wall, at a distance of six full steps, another man was sitting on exactly the same bench, with the difference that not only his legs, but also his arms were covered in the same shackles, and he had a leather bag on his head.
“This is not M. Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan.
- Do you think so? Really? - the King exclaimed with ostentatious surprise, taking off the mask that he put on so as not to be recognized by the commandant. - Well, let's see who it could be.
He grabbed the leather bag with two fingers and pulled it up. To his horror, d'Artagnan saw Aramis with a gag in his mouth and a tight bandage on the lower part of his face.
“We will free Mister Bishop from these inconvenient objects,” the King said, smiling, after which he carefully untied the bandage and pulled the gag out of Aramis’ mouth.
“Damn it, Aramis, you...” said d’Artagnan in a voice full of despair.
“D’Artagnan, you don’t seem happy to see me,” Aramis said sadly. - Sorry, dear friend, the place is really not suitable for dating, but this is not happening according to my will, as you can see.
- Shut up, you two scoundrels! - the King shouted, losing control of his emotions. “Did you think you could deceive me forever?” It didn't work out! I've got you figured out!
“In that case, Aramis, we will probably have to spend the rest of our days here,” d’Artagnan said calmly, “However, I don’t think we will be allowed to grow old in peace.”
- Old age is terrible! - Aramis answered. “We still have a good chance of avoiding old age.”
“You have a great chance to die here in front of each other, watching each other’s torment and suffering from the fact that you cannot help each other,” Louis answered angrily. - Try to do something to stop this!
“Your Majesty’s will is stated quite clearly, and we do not dare oppose it,” d’Artagnan answered calmly.
“And your orders, as always, are carried out clearly and quickly,” added Aramis. - After all, in France, Your Majesty is at home everywhere.
“Especially here,” d’Artagnan agreed, for which he received a look full of hatred from the King.
- Stop clowning around! - cried the King. - No one will help you here! See that little finger on your left hand? - the King turned to Aramis, showing his left palm. “You dared to injure me by kidnapping me from the house of that vile traitor Fouquet!” You dare to shed royal blood! On my royal hand, by your grace, a mark was left, reminding me that several of my subjects dared to raise their hands against their King! Even when you are gone, and your ashes will be trampled by the townspeople in the suburbs of Paris, this cruel wound will remind me of my humiliation! In moments when I asked myself whether I was too cruel towards my enemies, the enemies of France, the conspirators who encroached on my freedom, I looked at this wound and remembered that the conspirators dared to shed royal blood! And I told myself that I would not spare anyone involved in this crime!
“You received this wound by accident, Your Majesty,” answered Aramis, “and I ardently regret that I was so clumsy that I scratched your hand and spilled a few drops of royal blood.” But only about this.
- Scoundrel! - exclaimed the King. “You have the audacity to tell me that you have not repented of your villainous crime!”
“I repented of it under the influence of a conversation with Fouquet, Your Majesty, but under the influence of a conversation with you I realized that I was right,” answered Aramis.
- Shut up, Aramis, shut up! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “Let the King speak, perhaps he will want to hear our explanations.”
- Your explanations?! - cried the King. - Do you think that some explanations will help you save your pathetic lives?!
“We need them, first of all, to express what has accumulated in us,” d’Artagnan answered with dignity. “A minute ago I thought that perhaps they would be useful for you, Your Majesty, but now I don’t think so.”
- And wonderful! - answered the King, calming down. “I don’t want to give you any explanation either.” You will be left here to die in front of each other. You will be given drink, but not food. In addition, you will not be allowed to sleep. Thus, in a few days your torment will end. But all this time, each of you will observe the fading of the other. This is my response to the violence inflicted on me by you, Bishop, and to the disobedience shown to me by you, Captain. I'm leaving to leave instructions on this matter.
With these words, the King put on his mask and opened the cell doors.
- Monsieur de Bezmo! Please come here! - exclaimed the King and the prisoners heard the familiar gait of the commandant of the Bastille, who was heading towards the prison cell and tapping his rhythmic confident steps with his forged boots.

LXIII. Exit

As soon as Bezmo approached the door of the cell, d'Artagnan shouted with all his strength:
- Grab Marchiali! What are you watching? General de Bezmeaux, arrest the criminal Marciali immediately!
Aramis instantly understood d'Artagnan's plan and added his voice to his cries.
- De Bezmo, what are you looking at! After all, your prisoner has escaped! Arrest the scoundrel Marciali immediately!
The confused commandant did not know who to listen to, and began to regard the King with suspicion. By those facial features, by his figure and by other signs, including the ever-present mask on his face, he began to vaguely recognize his recent prisoner. The only thing that bothered him was that the prisoner was no longer under his jurisdiction, so he was not sure that he should arrest him.
- Francois de Montlaisin! Marquis De Bezmo! General! Hurry up! I tell you: the prisoner escaped while I was taking him to a new place! Grab him now! The King will reward your loyalty! You remember that your obedience has already been noted in one of my reports!
Here Louis felt a threat to his freedom and made an unforgivable mistake, because he began to do what seemed completely natural to him, namely, he shouted:
- Don't you dare come near me! I am King Louis XIV of France! I will order you all to be executed! Don't you dare touch me!
This is precisely what he should not have done, since de Bezmo immediately recognized his recent prisoner, which was Louis. He shouted exactly the same words, in the same voice and made the same threatening gestures, threatened with the same punishments.
- That's it, buddy! - Bezmo grumbled, completely convinced that d'Artagnan and Aramis were right. - Come on, give me your hands here!
With these words, he quickly and decisively tied Louis’s hands, who had never expected such a rapid change in his fate and did not have the strength to resist. Continuing to hold the bound King with one hand, de Bezmo opened the next cell and roughly pushed the King into it. After this, he approached d'Artagnan and Aramis and freed them from their bonds in turn.
“You are a wonderful person, de Bezmo, and the King’s most devoted servant!” - Aramis exclaimed.
- How did you end up in this cell? — the commandant was surprised. “After all, this scoundrel showed me the King’s order for your arrest!” Otherwise I would have recognized him under this mask.
“You are mistaken, General,” objected d’Artagnan. “This order required the arrest of him, the criminal Marciali!” This clever pickpocket stole my order and deceived us all, but now it is over. Remember what the order said?
“It said that the bearer of this document has an order from the King to deliver a prisoner to the Bastille and leave him there, and the commandant is ordered to strictly maintain secrecy and fulfill all the demands of the person who presented this order.
- That's what I'm talking about! - the captain agreed. “I had this order in my pocket, we, as you remember, went into your casemate in a very friendly manner, since I did not want to unnecessarily disturb you, and the prisoner promised to behave quietly.” But it turned out that the scoundrel stole the order from me and managed to present it to you while I was distracted by this magnificent porcelain figurine,” said d’Artagnan and pointed to a very frivolous candlestick standing on the commandant’s desk.
“Oh, that’s...” replied de Bezmo, whose face turned crimson with shame. — My colleagues gave it to me for my anniversary, but, you know, I’m married. I didn’t dare keep such a candlestick at home, so I brought it here. And I just use it as a candlestick, and nothing more.
De Bezmo took out a handkerchief, wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck, and looked intently at Aramis.
- But you yesterday...
- This is a real work of art! - Aramis exclaimed, grabbed de Bezmeaux by the sleeve and literally brought an obscene candlestick to his nose. - Look how accurately the individual details of the figures of the three graces are conveyed!
- What are you, what are you, I don’t even look at them! - de Bezmo lied, blushing even deeper. - Ufff, what were we talking about?
- We praised your determination and your heroism, General! - said d'Artagnan. - How cleverly you grabbed him! After all, he is not himself, and madmen like him sometimes have monstrous strength. He could easily kill you, General! You single-handedly defeated such a dangerous criminal! I will write to the King immediately. Where do you have paper, pen, ink? Oh, here they are, I see! Do you know what, General? I cannot objectively describe your exploits to the King while you stand here before me, a living hero, a titan, a giant! But a memo to the King should be written in cold, dry language. The King does not like epithets.
- Perhaps you will write it later? - asked Bezmo.
“It’s absolutely impossible, General, because the scoundrel criminal fled on the road to the Pignerol fortress, so I will immediately take him there, but with more careful supervision.” My convoy has been enlarged, as you can see if you look outside the fortress gates. By the way! Do yourself a favor, go downstairs and order the carriage to drive into the fortress courtyard. You understand that it would be imprudent to take such a criminal outside the fortress. I will put him in the carriage, handcuffed and wearing a mask, and then we will set off.
“Should I lead the guards into the fortress courtyard?” - asked Bezmo.
“Sixteen people inside,” answered d’Artagnan. “Let the four on the strongest stallions wait outside the gate.”
Bezmo nodded and left, after which Aramis looked at the captain in surprise.
- Do you want to take him away from the Bastille? - he asked. “Fate itself put him here, and you want to release him, risking that he will reign again and destroy us all?”
“This is not the time to argue, Aramis.” We can't get out of the Bastille without him. Twenty guards are waiting for us, who know that they brought the King here. How do you explain to them that you left the King in the Bastille, and you yourself are leaving? Then we really won’t be able to get out of here, and then we will really be imprisoned here forever or, most likely, executed.
“You’re right, d’Artagnan,” Aramis nodded. - What do we do in this case?
“We return to the King,” said the captain. He bolted the door through which Bezmo went down into the courtyard, grabbed a bunch of keys and a stack of blank sheets of paper from the table.
“Take an inkwell and a pen and let’s go to the King, quickly, catch up,” he said and rushed into the corridors of the casemate.

The king stopped screaming and hitting the walls of his new cell. He remembered from past experience that it was useless, he was afraid that this time his conclusion was final, he was seized with hysterics. Hearing a fuss at the door and the sound of a key turning in the lock, he decided that this time he would undoubtedly be killed.

“Your Majesty, we have come to prove to you once again that we are not enemies of Your Majesty and do not want your death,” he said to the King through the barely open door. “We just want to remain free and live our lives in such a way that we can grow old in peace somewhere in the countryside, away from the court and its intrigues.”
“I don’t believe a single word you say,” snapped the King, who understood that they would not kill him, but did not understand what these two wanted from him, in whose complete power he found himself, and, moreover, he was so stupid that he made them both of their irreconcilable enemies.
“Your Majesty, we will set you free, and you will return to the throne again, but I have a small condition,” said the captain.
- Scoundrels! Do you dare to put conditions on me? Me – the King of France? - exclaimed the King.
“Bishop, you were right, conversation is useless, we’re leaving,” d’Artagnan said sharply and slammed the doors.
- Wait! - the King shouted in horror. - What are your conditions? I agree!
“Your Majesty, our conditions are not onerous,” answered d’Artagnan. “On this sheet of paper, folded like an envelope, you will write in your own hand “Urgent Order of the King” and put your signature.
-Are you asking me for a blank form? - The King was horrified. - After all, you can fit anything there!
“Anything written on the inside of this sheet will not be written in your handwriting and will not have your signature at the bottom, so such “anything” will only expose the author of such a document as a forgery,” answered the captain.
- Then what do you need this envelope for? - asked the King.
“The bishop is in a hurry to leave for Spain, or any other country to which His Lordship may wish to sail.” This envelope will help him board some ship to depart in some direction,” said d’Artagnan. “I managed to notice that both of you don’t like staying in one country, but since the King must remain in his Kingdom, the bishop will have to go to another country.”
“I will be in constant danger,” said the King anxiously.
“No more so than you are in it today,” the captain answered calmly.
“And I can’t do anything about it,” Louis said sadly.
“I really hope so,” agreed Aramis.
“Well, let’s say,” the King nodded. - What else?
- Aramis, give me some ink and a pen. Please, Your Majesty,” said the captain.
“I wrote it,” said the King, handing over the required paper. - This is all?
“We will release His Eminence and discuss a very small condition in private,” d’Artagnan continued. “Monsignor will need some time to travel far enough to not fear your pursuit.”
“I won’t leave you alone, d’Artagnan!” - Aramis exclaimed.
“ I need to say a few words to the monsignor,” the captain smiled and closed the cell doors again. - Run, Aramis, quickly! In any case, with some dexterity with this envelope, you will leave the Bastille and tell Bezmo not to come here. This is enough to get started. And guess what? Do not rely too much on this paper in the ports of France, I am confident that the King will have time to warn his spies so that anyone who produces such a document will be immediately arrested or killed.
“I understand that, but what about you, d’Artagnan?” - asked Aramis.
“I’m not asking you how you will get out of this story alone in Paris without money and without servants!”
- Oh, believe me, it will be extremely simple for me! - Aramis exclaimed.
- I believe. So believe me that I will not disappear. So, let's get down to business. Go away and hold Bezmo.
“But what if...” Aramis asked anxiously.
- I am begging you! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “Aramis, with your connections, you will get me out of the Bastille in a few days!”
- This is true! - Aramis exclaimed, - If you live another day, I will do it!
“I give you my word not to die for at least two more days!” - D'Artagnan answered with a smile.
- Keep your word! - Aramis answered, hugged the captain and disappeared into the bends of the corridor.
“Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan, opening the doors again. “Your sworn enemy is now far away, and your faithful captain of the musketeers is again ready to listen to your orders!”
- Do you obey me completely, captain? - the King asked in disbelief.
“Your Majesty could be convinced many times that d’Artagnan’s word can be trusted,” said the captain without blinking an eye.
“Your outburst today proves otherwise,” Louis objected doubtfully.
“I showed my willfulness only when they arrested me and announced that I would die,” answered d’Artagnan. “In this case, I no longer considered myself to be in Your Majesty’s service.” What kind of demand can there be from a prisoner? Prisoners, you know, always shout out all sorts of stupid things, that’s their lot.
“You seem to be quite aware of how prisoners behave,” the King said harshly, turning pale as he took the captain’s words personally.
“Due to my duty, I brought many criminals to the Bastille,” answered d’Artagnan with such an innocent face that Louis believed that the captain did not intend to hint at the behavior of the King during his first and second imprisonment in the cell.
“ Even now you treat me without due respect,” said the King coldly, who perfectly understood that he was still in the power of the captain.
“What if he sent d'Herblay for help? - the King thought in horror. “In an hour or two, a whole army of their supporters may come here and commit the most severe violence against me and even kill me!” What have I done! I'm dead! We need to somehow cajole him and quickly resolve this conflict in order to return to the Louvre!”
“Remember, Your Majesty, because I brought you evidence of the death of three of the four people regarding whom I received your order,” the captain continued. “Baron du Valon, Comte de La F;re and Viscount de Bragelonne are dead, and I have brought you irrefutable proof of this fact.” At the same time, I did not claim that the Bishop of Van was killed; on the contrary, I told you that this issue has not yet been resolved. I just needed time, and it was my only fault that I didn’t have time to find out where he was hiding.
“But you helped him avoid my punishment now,” the King said hesitantly, looking for an opportunity to compromise without violating the logic of the conversation and without making significant concessions to the arrogant captain.
“I just wanted to have a chance to prove my loyalty to the King through the example of the last criminal,” d’Artagnan answered without blinking an eye. “I would like to be needed by Your Majesty, and you need me.” I can predict in what port the bishop will try to use the document you signed, and this document, instead of serving as his pass, will serve as the hook with which we will catch him.
“Are you really such a bad comrade, d’Artagnan, that you planned such a mean thing?” - asked the King.
“I had excellent teachers in the area of betrayal, Your Majesty, and I was pinned down with arguments that left me no freedom of choice,” the captain lied again.
“Well, let’s say, let’s say,” the King said thoughtfully. “So, can we go?”
“I just wouldn’t want to lag too far behind Your Majesty on this path,” d’Artagnan clarified softly. “If you go out first, I’m afraid you’ll forget to take me with you.”
“We will leave at the same time,” the King said briefly.

“It would be highly desirable for me to leave a little earlier than Your Majesty, so that you do not have the desire to again subject my loyalty to you to the most severe test,” said d’Artagnan as gently as he could. “I give you my word d'Artagnan that, leaving the Bastille, I will convey Your Majesty's order to take out the prisoner Marciali and escort him to the carriage that awaits Your Majesty in the courtyard of the Bastille. The commandant is sure that it is you who bears this name, and that by arresting you, he is carrying out your own order, the order of his King. For this reason, there is no guilt on him towards you. De Bezmeaux will be sure to hand you over to me so that I can escort you to Pignerol.
-Are you planning to do this? - the King cried in horror.
“By the time de Bezmeaux takes you out and puts you in your carriage, I will already be outside the gates of the Bastille.” Your loyal guards will take you home, Your Majesty, while I will ride on my horse to fulfill my duty to you. When I deliver you the bishop of Vannes, bound hand and foot, you will be convinced of my loyalty to you,” said d’Artagnan and bowed.
- He was already in my hands! - the King exclaimed in despair.
“Your intention to starve us both did not suit me, Your Majesty, first of all because you risked depriving yourself of the most faithful of your officers,” answered the captain. “You will receive the bishop of Vannes from my hands and leave me in my previous position, or send me into retirement, or send me to the Bastille, but not to starve to death, but so that I have the opportunity to grow old here, as Monsieur Fouquet is destined to do.” Am I asking too much?
“You don’t ask, you demand, captain!” - exclaimed the King.
“My current position allows me to do this,” the captain answered modestly, “but you have the power to change this.” Just trust me, let me go free and I promise that your freedom will come no later than ten minutes after I leave the Bastille.
- What if you deceive me? - asked the King with suspicion.
- Have mercy, Your Majesty! “The whole court knows that you left somewhere, accompanied by twenty guardsmen, led by the captain of your musketeers. Someone guessed or saw how the motorcade drove up to the Bastille. The guards know that they brought the King here. If you stay here too long, they will attack the Bastille from the inside and extract Your Majesty from it. There will probably be a small scandal, but the matter will end well for you. If I wanted to deceive you, I would conspire with the Bishop of Vannes to bring his forces here, which he certainly has even here in Paris. With these forces, he would disarm twenty guards and take you away, where no one would ever find you.
The king shuddered because the captain had just told him all his fears, which made him believe that, perhaps, these fears were not nearly as groundless as d'Artagnan was trying to show.
“We need to finish this damned business as soon as possible! - thought the King. “We must make any concessions, just to quickly get out of this damned Bastille and get back to the Louvre!”
“My request is extremely simple, Your Majesty,” the captain continued. “First you will write a letter ensuring your freedom and the complete innocence of the Marquis de Bezmeaux.” It will contain an order for him to take the prisoner Marciali out, put him in a carriage, and then entrust the carriage to the protection of her royal guard. You can prepare other orders from the King; I leave the paper, pen and ink to you. I undertake to hand over the said letter to the commandant, the Marquis de Bezmeaux, with instructions to open it ten minutes after my departure. For myself, I only ask for an envelope with the same inscription: “Urgent order from the King to Captain d’Artagnan” with your signature.
— And inside, of course, it’s also completely empty? - The King grinned.
“Not really, Your Majesty,” the captain objected. “I ask you to write that the four guards are obliged to obey me unquestioningly to carry out your order.”
- What are you up to, captain? - the King asked arrogantly.
“I’ll just send them running as fast as they can in four different directions on some unimportant errands,” answered d’Artagnan. “I would very much like to make it at least a little more difficult for Colbert to capture Captain d’Artagnan in order to gain at least a slight advantage on his journey.” I'm tired of running around France being grabbed by the boots by any lieutenant who has powers higher than the captain of the royal musketeers. I just want to confuse my tracks a little and break away from the Intendant of Finance, who has rather fed up with me, who imagines himself to be a Marshal of France and the Minister of the Interior rolled into one.
“You hate Colbert, d’Artagnan,” the King said calmly.
“That’s good,” he thought, “let him blame him for all his misfortunes!”
“I have a little less respect for him than he would probably like to see from me,” said d’Artagnan dispassionately. “It’s about five o’clock in the evening,” he said. - If we don't come to an agreement...
“He is still waiting for the Bishop of Van with his people! - thought the King. “We must hurry!”
“We have come to an agreement on all issues, captain,” said Louis. - I will write all the necessary papers, wait three minutes.
"Wow! I managed to persuade him! - thought d'Artagnan. “It’s good that I didn’t have time to finish my sentence!”
Indeed, he was about to say: “If we do not come to an agreement, my position will soon become too dangerous for me to continue negotiations.” In this case, he decided to break through the ranks of the guards at his own peril and risk, or try to explain the King’s delay with some unusual reason, but he categorically did not like both of these options.
- Dictate! - said the King, - I am already completely confused in your most complex plans and in your words.
“Suppose, Your Majesty, in the first document you write the following text,” said the captain and began to dictate.

"The King's Order
To the commandant of the fortress: to entrust the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan to remove the prisoner Marciali and take him away in a closed carriage waiting for him in the courtyard of the fortress, for which purpose the captain of the musketeers is ordered to leave the fortress in advance and wait for the prisoner inside the carriage, while the commandant is to take out the prisoner Marciali in a mask, showing him the respect corresponding to the rank of duke, addressing him by the title “Monsignor” and escort him into this carriage, then close the door and order to open the gates of the fortress, recall his people and not interfere with the departure of the carriage according to his needs.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France »
 
Louis wrote the text dictated to him, reread it and signed it.
— Will you be sitting in the carriage at this time? - asked the King.
“The commandant will think that I will sit in the carriage, but I prefer to leave while the commandant reads this letter and carries out your order, Your Majesty,” answered the captain.
- What will serve as my guarantee for this? - Louis inquired.
“D’Artagnan’s word is that I will not wait for you inside the carriage and that I will leave the Bastille ,” exclaimed the captain. “This is not in my interests, since all you have to do is take off your mask and tell the guards to arrest me, and my situation will be too deplorable.”
“I agree,” the King nodded. - What paper should I write for you? Dictate!
Then d'Artagnan dictated a second order:

"The King's Urgent Order"
Captain of the Royal Musketeers d'Artagnan.
Immediately deliver an urgent letter, for which he can use four soldiers of my guard, sending them with dispatches or verbal instructions to the addresses that he knows.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France »

“This is reasonable,” the King agreed, “even without such an order you can dispose of the guards if necessary.”
“But not when they are Your Majesty’s escort,” the captain clarified, “and not as urgently as I need it now.”
“So, captain, you gave me d’Artagnan’s word that my first order will be conveyed to the commandant and will be executed no later than ten minutes after you leave!”
- D'Artagnan's word is that this order will be immediately conveyed to the commandant and carried out no later than ten minutes, and d'Artagnan's word is that I will not wait for you inside the carriage, as well as that I will leave the Bastille As soon as I go down the stairs leading to the office of Mr. Commandant. D'Artagnan's word that you will leave this fortress freely and without the slightest hindrance, accompanied by a convoy of guards who obey only you and your word, while I, having taken four guards for my small needs, will in no way interfere with your safe trips to the Louvre! - exclaimed the captain. “If I break this word, may the shame and contempt of the entire noble class of France fall on my gray hair.”

The king made a gesture with his right hand, meaning that he was releasing the captain and began to wait in silence for further developments.

D'Artagnan, rattling a bunch of keys, headed along the winding corridors to de Bezmo's office.
“Marquis,” he said, “read the order.”
Having read the King's order, de Bezmo extended his hand to him.
“I have to file it in the order book,” he said.
“ Nothing of the kind, dear Marquis,” objected the captain. - If you noticed, this order contains detailed instructions to me, while you are only ordered to remove from the fortress the prisoner who, according to the documents, did not come to you as such. This prisoner was not handed over to you by any order, he simply broke through here by cunning, and I am taking him in order to escort him to a place that is not mentioned here for reasons of secrecy, but which I know for certain. This order will be added to the case by the commandant of the fortress where I will deliver this prisoner. You must fulfill it exactly. Keep in mind, de Bezmeaux, I swore on the honor of d'Artagnan that you will fulfill it exactly, so I ask you to read it again, and if that is not enough, read it perhaps a third time, but I won't tell you I'll leave it.
“I understand everything,” Bezmo replied. - Go downstairs and wait in the carriage, I will bring him out to you in ten minutes.
“That’s right,” agreed the captain. - Yes, however, I didn’t lock his cell, he calmed down and is not so violent now. And where should he run? After all, all the windows here are barred!
“This is somewhat careless, considering that he almost ran away just recently,” Bezmo said worriedly.
- What can you do? - D'Artagnan shrugged. “You see that it is said here that he should be given the honors corresponding to the title of duke.”
- Really! - Bezmo exclaimed. - So that means...
“I’ll tell you out of friendship as a former comrade in arms, Marquis,” said the captain. “Our former King Louis XIII was extremely loving. You understand?
- That's it! - whispered the commandant. - This is the bastard son of the King! And sometimes I treated him quite rudely. No, of course, I didn’t offend or beat him, but take today, for example, because I so rudely pushed him into the cell!
- Don't worry, Marquis! He was not officially adopted, his mother was of low rank, and, besides, you remember that he is crazy! The slight resemblance to our King made him imagine who knows what. A pretty Italian girl... Her last name, by the way, is from her mother's... Some pathetic bastard... But royal blood! Let us show respect for our origins. So, treat like a Duke and call him Monsignor. Crazy people love it. I have the honor!
With these words, d'Artagnan, having taken the King's order, left the commandant's office and quickly ran down the steps of the stone stairs into the courtyard.
- Gentlemen, attention, now the commandant will bring the one you are expecting into the carriage. Security - to the carriage, Bastille guards - open the gates and go to the guardhouse, the general will confirm my order. I'm taking the four outside, according to the King's urgent orders!
He showed the order to the senior lieutenant of the guard, jumped on his horse and rode out the gates of the Bastille.
- You four follow me! The King's Order! - he said to the four guardsmen waiting for him outside the gates of the Bastille and, waving an order in the air, he galloped towards the southern gates of Paris.
Meanwhile, Bezmo sought out the King and addressed him as Duke.
- Your Highness, please go out, a carriage is waiting for you! - said Bezmo.
The king nodded and resolutely walked out. There was no one in the carriage, the King calmly sat down, leaned back on the pillows, after which the carriage gently drove out of the gates of the Bastille and drove towards the Louvre.

LXIV. Montville

Raoul opened his eyes in surprise. The last thing he remembered was a night raid from the fortress of Candia. With an unceasing pain in his heart, he stubbornly sought death in battle, since he would consider any other death cowardice, but he had neither the strength nor the desire to continue this life, which seemed meaningless and hateful to him.
Raoul lay on the soft warm grass, not understanding how he ended up in this enchanting place, far from war, from battles, from death, hunger, suffering. Here the sounds of cannonade generated by the continuous shelling of the fortress from the Turks were not heard. There were no orders from commanders, groans from the wounded, loud orders from commanders, or quiet plaintive lamentations of the civilian part of the fortress’s inhabitants, who understood their unenviable fate, but could not influence it in any way, and did not even have the advantage that the military had - the advantage of dying in during a sortie or during the defense during an assault on a fortress, so as not to see the horror and shame to which any fortress captured by the enemy is subjected.
Raoul imagined that he was killed and was in heaven. He relaxed and indulged in memories of the one because of whom he decided to die a hero’s death, because of whom he left his elderly father and went to war for alien interests on a foreign island, equally far from Venice, and from Turkey, and even more degrees from France, as a result of which the war of three countries for this island seemed to him some kind of terrible parody of common sense.
Let us, our dear reader, allow ourselves to speculate about Raoul’s love, but not in those bright colors in which the loving Raoul painted it for himself, and not in those black colors in which his offended pride portrayed his love to him. We will arm ourselves with an artist’s brush and a doctor’s lancet, we will try to dissect his feelings, as a natural scientist would do if he discovered an amphibian creature unknown to him in a pond, and we will depict our vision of the situation, using words in the same way as another artist uses his paints, conveying to us views of sunsets and sunrises over the seas and over the fields.
All his life, from early childhood, from a time when the feeling of love is not yet familiar to most children, he idolized a little girl, who gradually turned into a young girl while he himself grew up and matured. Life for him was identified with love, and love was identified with Louise. If Raoul's feelings had remained unanswered, they would probably have gradually faded away, or they would have been replaced by other feelings, stronger and more mature, in relation to the one who would have appreciated his merits and responded to his feelings with mutual love.
Raoul's mistake was that he sincerely believed that he had awakened in Louise reciprocal feelings equal in strength to those that he had for someone else, or at least to some extent similar to them.
Louise at first had a childish affection for him, the kind that little girls have for their older brothers. Subsequently, having read fairy tales about handsome princes and young princesses, she probably even believed that Raoul could become such a prince in her life, and admitted the idea that he could become her fianc;, but she accepted all this only with her mind, because her heart never trembled at the presence of him next to her, her thoughts never started dancing at the memory of his name, no sweet trembling arose anywhere in her soul when she walked with him through the meadows, or took horseback rides, or she simply lay on the grass and wove a wreath of herbs, which she then put on his head as a joke.
While Raoul saw his whole life and all his happiness only in being next to Louise and pleasing and pampering her, surrounding her with small worries and serving as her main support and protection in life, Louise looked at Raoul only as one of the pleasant facts in her life, along with other joys - the joy of being young, being liked by young men, receiving gifts, eating delicious food, wearing beautiful clothes, walking in nature, listening to birds singing and inhaling the aromas of spring flowers. She enjoyed life to the fullest, taking all her gifts for granted, while Raoul saw only one happiness in life - to be close to Louise and bring her all the joys and pleasures that he could think of for her.
If he had at least occasionally thought about his own needs and neglected his constant concern for Louise for their sake, she would probably have been able to understand that not only her desires matter in her relationship with Raoul, but Raoul’s desires also deserve to be taken care of. think about them and implement them once in a while. Not only her girlish beauty can serve as a reason for the admiration of others, but also Raoul’s courage, dexterity and nobility of soul mean something.
Raoul destroyed his happiness by excessively surrounding Louise with his care, which is why she never developed sympathy for him, since he himself taught her to neglect his desires, aspirations and rights. If they walked together, they only went where she wanted. Not once did she inquire about his interests or desires, because she was used to thinking that Raoul always wanted exactly what she wanted. And therefore, she did not consider that, fulfilling her small and large whims, Raoul, probably, in some cases, sacrificed his own interests, desires or rights; she could not even imagine that this was possible. For this reason, she did not consider herself in any way obliged to him, she did not imagine that their rather close relationship, which could be called friendly only at a very young age, gradually became such a relationship that the older generation regards it as an opportunity further marriage between these young people.
Probably, the Comte de La F;re was partly to blame for the fact that Raoul did not quite correctly assess the relationship developing between him and Louise. Unable in his life to find the only woman with whom he could be happy, having lost faith in women, of whom he knew only Lady Clarik, known as Milady, who, with her unearthly beauty, had the soul of the devil, closely enough, Athos looked at all women as to an incomprehensible natural phenomenon, from which it is advisable to stay away, and to which etiquette requires respect, but with which a decent person who wants and strives to live an honest life as a noble person should not connect his life. The outward manifestations of his respect for women were not fueled by deep feelings, but were simply the result of proper upbringing, and he sought to give the same upbringing to his son Raoul, without noticing, however, that Raoul perceived women not as an unknown part of humanity, which one should strive to experience it, but as an enchanting riddle that should be solved throughout one’s life.
Having taken the wrong path, father and son made the same mistake. Athos, considering himself independent of women, became dependent on his distrust of women in general, as a result of which, even having subsequently met very worthy representatives of the fair sex, he did not for a second allow himself the opportunity to tie himself into marriage, or even to enter into one that was not too long, but a rather pleasant union that a man and a woman enter into without getting married, but spending very pleasant minutes, hours, days, and even years together, sometimes even acquiring offspring and a joint household. Even Cardinal Richelieu was not such an ascetic in relation to women, as was the glorious and noble Athos. As we know, the fact that Athos had a son was due to a misunderstanding, for which the count himself was least guilty. Having become deeply attached to his son, this greatest gift that a woman can bestow on the man she loves, the count was not imbued with gratitude towards this woman and respect for the female sex as such, but behaved towards them the way we all behave towards to the beautiful creations of nature. Knowing that they exist and sometimes we even allow ourselves to enjoy their sight, or singing, or dancing, but it never occurs to us to bring home some kind of bird to enjoy its singing at home or watch its flight, it never occurs to us get yourself a roe deer to watch its light run or keep a peacock at home so you can admire its magnificent tail every day. We consider those who do this to be eccentrics, and secretly laugh at them. This was the same attitude of Athos towards women, and he expected to see the same attitude in Raoul with age, since he believed that any woman is capable of proving to any man over time that she is unworthy of love, and therefore feelings for her cannot be long-lasting, serious or deep.
Over time, however, Athos realized that he was deeply mistaken about Raoul, that his romantic attitude towards women did not fade away, but only intensified with age, and then he began to consider the Viscount’s plans for marriage as quite probable, rejecting only his choice, which he considered childish affection that has no chance of long and serious consequences.
However, Raoul's insistence upon reaching the age when it is already decent for a young man to marry, at first irritated the count, then gradually began to inspire respect, and finally defeated his internal resistance. Even if the count himself did not consider Louise a worthy chosen one of Raoul, he believed that only Raoul himself should judge this, and if he decided that Louise was his destiny, then so be it. Not noticing in Louise resistance to such a development of events, and knowing that Louise’s guardians also see in this marriage the guarantee of Louise’s future happiness, the count, in his naivety, believed that the issue of this marriage had already been resolved, asking only Raoul not to rush into the implementation of these plans, believing that time is the best touchstone for the feelings of young people. Being essentially right, the count did not take into account the fundamental difference in the characters of Raoul and Louise. If for Raoul such a delay only fueled his feelings, forcing him to wait for the day of the union of their hearts with increasing impatience, then for Louise the marriage itself was only a theoretical possibility, one of many, the delay only made her happy, allowing her to assume that other options were quite possible for her . When she met the King, she identified her admiration for his exceptional position, without recognizing its reason, with the very love that she had read about in books. And then that trepidation, and that longing, and that ardor with which young girls usually experience their first love came to her heart. All love is fueled by excessive, sometimes unfounded, but strong delight in relation to the face of the opposite feeling, and the lover is not aware of the source of this delight. If for Raoul the source of delight in Louise was the tenderness of her skin, the fragility of her figure, the slenderness of her posture, despite the slight lameness that arose as a result of an unsuccessful fall from a horse during one of the walks, then for Louise in relation to Raoul there was no reason for such increased delight , while in the King she discovered all those exceptional characteristics that were given to him only by the shine of his exceptional position in France in relation to all other people. Hearing the endless compliments given to the King by all kinds of flatterers - court hangers-on, she believed in their sincerity and truth, while these were just stock phrases that these flatterers absorbed with their mothers' milk, inherited from their parents and gave out in one gulp without the slightest strain of mind, and , which is much worse, sometimes without the slightest reason for these compliments.
When the King was called the most handsome in her presence, she began to believe that he was the most handsome young man in all of France. When he was called the smartest, she believed that this was so. He was called the noblest, the kindest, the wisest, the bravest, the most elegant, and so on, and she believed that there were valid reasons for all these epithets.
Under the impression that all these traits were concentrated in a single person, who also suited her age, she at first began to dream about him as an unattainable ideal, but gradually, having the opportunity to see him quite closely due to her position as the princess’s maid of honor, she began to perceive him as her only love, both spiritual and physical, without thinking for a minute about how legal or criminal such love is, whether it has a chance of ever ceasing to be unrequited and purely platonic, or whether it is destined to remain so to remain just a vague dream, forever buried in the heart of the young maid of honor. In any case, this feeling did not force her to change her attitude towards Raoul, since she never perceived her relationship with him as love. This was her guilt before him, and this was her complete justification before him.
Raoul's thoughts turned to the person of the King. Having received by birthright the highest position imaginable in all of France, he was accustomed to receiving everything he needed. Raoul did not know that in his childhood Louis had to endure some hardships, since the stingy Cardinal Mazarin concentrated all the money of the state in his hands, giving the Queen and her children only what it was simply impossible to do without. The suffering of the royal family was suffering only in comparison with the situation of other royal families, but if you compare their life with the life of ordinary people, even quite noble ones, their life did not look like a continuous series of suffering. After the death of the cardinal, a significant part of the wealth and almost all of his power passed into the hands of the young King, who almost instantly became accustomed to perceiving his person as exclusively significant, as the highest value in the state, his desires as the most important affairs of the state, his grievances as state crimes of individuals, those who inflicted these insults on him, even the most insignificant, trivial ones, or not insults at all, but only apparent guilt. Having fun in his absence, not inviting him into the circle of the courtiers having fun, laughing at a joke that he did not hear, all this turned into acts that insulted His Majesty. If he had not yet begun to take revenge for such sins, then he had already scattered his hatred in hefty handfuls among his courtiers, selecting for the most important positions not those people who could cope with them better, but those who were personally more pleasant to him, because they were more attentive and obedient, or seemed so.
Intolerant of any criticism, he surrounded himself with flatterers and liars. Believing that any kind of entertainment was possible for himself, he surrounded himself with girls who were ready to make any sacrifice for his sake, and with equally effeminate men. Everything in the palace was subordinated to pleasure and entertainment, which he called gallantry. He saw nothing wrong with setting his sights on his sister-in-law, his younger brother's wife, Princess Henrietta. He saw no problems in other entertainments of this kind with whoever he wanted, when and where he wanted and in the perverted or traditional form in which he wanted at the moment.
Having met Louise's pure enthusiasm, he felt, or it seemed to him, that this was love for him not as a King, but as a person. Louise saw in him, it seemed to him, not the advantages of a King, given to him by his position, his royal crown, but the advantages of a young man that he had in himself, as a man, as a person, as a person.
This seemed to him unusual and worth much more than the traditional admiration for kingship and royal wealth. Louise did not want to receive royal gifts, refused titles and positions, rich rooms and decorations, she only needed him, her Louis. And for such love they were ready to pay the highest price, he was ready to give her not positions, not titles, not castles or jewelry, but himself, his time, his dependence on her and on her mood. The King was ready to fight for her love. He became a tyrant when he felt that someone else, who was lower than him in the state hierarchy, dared to encroach on the most valuable thing he had. For the sake of his fictitious love for Mademoiselle Lavaliere, he would not have spared his own brother, Philippe of Orleans. How much more insignificant was the unknown Viscount de Bragelonne to him. If he himself had not decided to go to war and seek his death there, the King would eventually have sent him there by force, since the Viscount, by his existence, turned his sublime love for Louise into the base theft of someone else's happiness, relegated his high feeling to the level of vile lust , on a momentary happiness, built on the ruins of the whole life of a noble youth, who, of course, did nothing to deserve such misfortune, such injustice, such disregard for his legal rights to love the one whom he loved all his life, and who never hinted at it in a single word, that his love burdens her, or that this love will never end in a happy marriage.
This guilt of the King before the Viscount was so serious that the Comte de La F;re did not doubt for a minute that he had every right to refuse to consider the King as his sovereign and to relinquish his duties as a loyal subject. If it were not for d'Artagnan's intercession, the count would still be in the Bastille as punishment for his insolence, because he dared to tell the King the truth about who he was in relation to the nobleman he had insulted, and why, by insulting one nobleman, he face insults the entire nobility, that is, insults the system that alone supports his power in that status of God’s anointed, in which even an unreasoning young man receives the legal rights to command experienced and white-washed elders, pointing them to their place at the steps of his throne.
Having encroached on the rights of the Viscount, the King in the eyes of Count de La F;re ceased to be the King, which was extremely dangerous for the future of the King himself, since Count de La F;re was not one of those who calmly forgives an insult to his family. If the count could neglect his own happiness or even his own life in order to fulfill only the whim of the King, since he considered the position of the King to be that of the main nobleman of France, then the count was not ready to forgive even the insult of his son, the destruction of his fate and the destruction of his happiness The King, and he would not forgive him and the Lord if he could get to him.
The Viscount de Bragelonne was not only the only son of the Comte de La F;re. He was at the same time the only son of all four musketeers, who were united in their aspirations, whose life position was the motto: “One for all, all for one!”
Therefore, Raoul actually had four fathers, each of whom was ready to stand up for him before the King. And these four, easily overthrowing and restoring monarchies, were a real threat to Louis XIV , which he was only vaguely aware of. His mistake was that he chose the wrong path. Instead of bringing these four to his side, he announced a hunt for all four, declaring them state criminals, without making the slightest difference between them, without examining their actual guilt and without taking into account their past merits.
This war, which Louis XIV unleashed against all four , remained a secret and even the nobles closest to the throne did not suspect about it; not a single member of the royal family suspected about it.
It began with Louis' attack on Fouquet, Aramis's friend, and on Lavaliere, Raoul's fianc;e. It grew into an attack on all four of these five - on Aramis and Porthos for the conspiracy they decided on, on Raoul for the guilt that Louis voluntarily took upon himself in front of him, on Athos - for double guilt, since parents are always double They experience the misfortunes of their children more strongly than the children themselves.
If Louis could probably ever forgive Aramis and Porthos, then Louis could never forgive Raoul and Athos. Indeed, it sometimes happens that a person can forgive his offender. But there has never been a case in history when the offender was able to forgive the person he had offended. People have not learned to forget the insults they have inflicted on someone. Belief in one's own justice forces the mind to look for reasons why they inflicted these insults. Even without finding such reasons, the mind invents them, and pride makes one believe in them. “If I treated him so badly, it’s only because he deserved it!” our pride tells us. And we console ourselves with the thought that we do evil only towards those who deserve it. Soon our pride tells us that we have treated this person even too softly, since in fact he deserved even more than that. This makes us think that we are almost patrons of the arts in relation to the people we have offended, while they are scoundrels who do not deserve our leniency.
So Raoul and Athos ended up on the list of irreconcilable enemies of the King.
Aramis, being a subtle connoisseur of the human soul, unraveled the motives of the King’s actions, and for this reason he foresaw his future actions. These considerations forced him to focus on a higher idea than saving the superintendent of finance Fouquet from bankruptcy. No matter how much he called Fouquet his friend, in the depths of his heart he understood that his true friends for all times were Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan, as well as their common son, Raoul. At first, he believed that Raoul would easily abandon Louise, seeing how easily she gave all of herself to the King. But taking a closer look at the situation, he realized that he had underestimated Raoul’s feelings, did not discern the depth of his feelings, even for an object not worthy of such worship.
And then he cast aside all doubts and decided on the conspiracy in which his life, the life of Porthos, and the fate of the entire kingdom were at stake.
When, fleeing persecution, he decided that he had lost his comrade in arms, the magnificent Porthos, he decided to atone for his guilt before friendship and take care of the salvation of Raoul and Athos, in relation to whom he realized that the Viscount did not want to continue to live in the position of a deceived the groom, whose feelings were so rudely violated by the King himself, and the count will not be able to survive the loss of his son for long. Aramis's instructions were carried out exactly by his three agents, including the not very reliable de Trabuson. However, he did not take into account that a broken person makes a bad ally, and an even worse one comes from one who is not completely caught. He could not foresee that de Trabuson willingly carried out orders that did not contradict the orders of the King and Colbert, but was only looking for an opportunity to take revenge on the mysterious priest who threatened him with fantastic punishments for disobedience, and forced him to violate his duty, as he understood it.
Let us return, however, to Raoul’s dreams.
The young man looked at the clouds, felt the aromas of herbs, heard the rustling of leaves and felt like he was in paradise.
- You are awake, my son! - he heard the count’s voice. - Stop lying on the grass like a village shepherd! Let's go have lunch, and tomorrow we'll go hunting.
- Count! You! Here? What destinies? Where are we? — Raoul bombarded the count with questions.
“At first I myself didn’t understand what happened to me, how I ended up here,” answered the count. - Do you know, my son, we are no longer in France!
- How? - Raoul was surprised. - What kind of mysterious magical force transported us to another country?
“This power has a completely human name.” It's called Friendship, my son! - Athos shook his curly and almost completely gray head. “Do you know Raoul that you were concussed and almost covered with earth during the explosion, and you would undoubtedly have died, suffocated without air supply?” I would lose you, my dear son! Our mutual friend Aramis made sure you were rescued. We owe this miracle to the friendship of my youth, Raoul.
- And you knew about this, father? - asked Raoul.
“I already had one foot in the next world, because I myself didn’t have time to save you and thought that I had lost you forever.”
- Father! I didn’t think that by putting my life in danger, I was also killing you! - exclaimed Raoul, who really did not think about it in that light. “How much grief I must have caused you with my desperate antics!” Will you ever forgive me?
- My son! - Athos said softly. - Every person has the right to control his own destiny and his own life. But risking your life without good reason is neither smart nor noble. If you decide to die, look for ideals for which you would not be sorry to give your life! King Louis XIV proved to us all that he was a pitiful, vain and insignificant person, who only by chance rose to the pinnacle of power. And he uses this power very poorly. Having offended you, he inflicted it on the entire nobility. When I asked him to leave the lady, who, however, is not suitable for you, and I always told you this, he did not hear my father’s grief and my noble condemnation, he only heard his own offended pride. God bless him! God bless them both! Adultery under the cover of royal grandeur does not cease to be adultery, Raoul! And a woman who stoops to adultery must be forgotten.
, will pass over time? it seemed.
“Platonic love...” the count said sadly. “So you don’t know that Mademoiselle Lavaliere is pregnant.”
— Pregnant? - asked Raoul.
“Exactly so, my son,” answered the count. - However, if you believe in the virgin birth...
- Not in this case, Count! - Raoul exclaimed and pressed his cheek to his father.
Athos felt Raoul's tears running down his cheek.
“Well, my son,” he said quietly, “I feel that you are gradually recovering.” Don't expect a quick cure. Some thorn will remain in your heart forever, believe me. But you can live with this, and even be happy sometimes. Value friendship more than female attention, and then you will have everything - both.
- Father! - Raoul exclaimed. “Why have you never spoken to me like that before?” And about this?
“ Probably because, my son, your father remained a stupid, proud martinet all these years!” - Athos laughed through his tears, after which father and son hugged and went into the house.
- Do you know Raoul, I deceived you! - Athos exclaimed.
- Were you deceived? Are you, Count, me? What? - Raoul was surprised.
- We are not going hunting tomorrow! Here in Scotland! Hunt! Nonsense! We're heading to the mountains! We will breathe the mountain air and admire the views of the valley from a bird's eye view!
“Tell me, Count, is this the only thing you deceived me about?” - Raoul asked seriously.
- Yes, my son! - Athos answered. - Could you…
“I wouldn’t have to ask about this, father!” I know. But I couldn't help but ask.
- When was the last time you climbed a mountain, my son? - asked Athos.
- Never, Count! - Raoul exclaimed. - And you?
- Exactly then! - Athos smiled.

LXV. Planchet forks out

- Planchet, are you home? - D'Artagnan shouted from the threshold of the inn.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan, it's you! What a joy! - exclaimed Planchet, going out to meet the captain.
“I’m coming to you for a short time and with important business,” the Gascon said abruptly. “Feed me and these brave soldiers, we are setting off on a long journey,” with these words he pointed to the four guardsmen accompanying him.
—Have you replaced your musketeers with guardsmen? - Planchet was surprised. - Come in, gentlemen! Sit down, food and wine will be brought to you now.
“In some cases, the musketeers’ cloaks attract too much attention, and the King’s orders can be very delicate,” the captain said in a confidential tone.
“I understand,” Planchet agreed.
“Today I will need to invade your cash desk, dear Planchet, and extract from it part of my funds placed in it as a deposit,” continued d’Artagnan.
— Another commercial operation? - Planchet asked briskly. - I'm in!
“The operation is indeed a commercial one, dear Planchet, but I will carry it out exclusively with my own savings,” answered the captain. “The level of commercial risk in this operation is too great, I cannot expose you to the risk of ruin, since you have become a sedate married city dweller.”
“It’s okay, I trust you, Monsieur d’Artagnan, and I’m ready to invest in the operation even if you find it too risky,” Planchet said serenely. “Experience has taught me that it is better to lose with a worthy person like you, Mr. Captain, than to win with an unworthy person, of which we have seen too many examples lately.”
- Yes, brother, you have become a philosopher! - exclaimed the captain. - Believe me, philosophy is an unreliable science. The wisdom of all ancient thinkers lies in the fact that with each subsequent aphorism they refuted the previous one, therefore in their works one can find confirmation of absolutely any thought. With the same exact effect, one can declare any thought, both expressed and unexpressed, as wisdom, as any thesis, as well as its antithesis.
“And after that you call me a philosopher?” - Planchet was surprised. “Compared to you, I’m just a donkey laden with books.”
- So you also read, Planchet? - the captain was delighted.
- Very little, but sometimes I read a few sheets of paper. One bankrupt publisher had two dozen large volumes wet from groundwater, and in addition, rats ate their spines. I bought these books from him at a bargain price in order to wrap candied fruits and nuts in their sheets. It happens that I read some pages that I find particularly interesting.
- Well, continue this activity if you find it interesting, I don’t read much, I just think more. You can’t imagine how much time an officer has to spend just waiting in the waiting room! This is the perfect place to clear your head! I am so used to reasoning that sometimes I even quarrel with myself, and once I almost challenged myself to a duel due to a difference of opinion on a philosophical question.
“You must be joking, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” Planchet smiled.
- You won’t be fooled! - the captain laughed. - Of course, I'm joking. And yet I really need money. I intend to hire a ship and bring some goods to France.
- I will buy sweets, tea and other colonial goods from you at the best prices for you, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - exclaimed Planchet.
- Agreed! - the captain agreed. “If a storm does not wreck my ship and it is not captured by pirates, we will agree on a price, dear Planchet.” But for the expedition, as I already said, I will take only my own savings.
“You'll probably need an assistant,” Planchet said.
“As you noticed, I’m taking four guards,” answered the captain, “and you shouldn’t leave the shop unattended.”
“I’m not talking about myself, but about Fran;ois,” objected Planchet.
“Is this nice fellow back yet?” - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“I’ll send for him,” said Planchet. “Besides, he still had your clothes, your sword and your horse with him.”
- This is very useful, dear Planchet! I'll take it! - D'Artagnan agreed. — While we wait for him, I’ll have time to have a snack! And pack us some food for the road. We have a long journey ahead of us, and we don’t plan to go anywhere else this night.
- How much money do you take from your share, Mr. Captain? - asked Planchet.
- All of them! - answered d'Artagnan and, armed with a knife and fork, attacked the liver pie.

LXVI. Urgent Order from the King

On the evening of the same day, when the King visited the Bastille of his own free will, but found himself in such a difficult situation that he feared that he would remain there forever, Aramis again paid a visit to that notorious fortress.
He arrived accompanied by Bazin and Lieutenant d'Aunay, who, however, remained with the carriage outside the walls of the Bastille and awaited Aramis's exit with some anxiety.
Upon entering, Aramis presented the same document that he had previously used to exit the fortress. It was a piece of paper folded into an envelope, on the outside of which was written in the King’s hand “Urgent Order of the King” and bore his own signature.
Walking into de Bezmeaux's office, Aramis sat down like a proprietor in the most comfortable chair and graciously agreed to treat himself lightly at the commandant's expense, limiting himself, however, to two sips of wine and a few dried fruits and a couple of nuts.
“For God’s sake, my dear Marquis, forgive me my senile absent-mindedness!” - The prelate smiled. “The magnificent work of art on your table distracted my attention so much that I forgot about one important formality!” By the way, where did it go? For some reason I don’t see it on your table.
“I put this indecent candlestick in the desk drawer,” answered Bezmo, blushing deeply. - Still, the official office...
- In vain, my dear! - Aramis exclaimed. - Believe me, even people of clergy are not such hypocrites as to treat works on biblical topics so strictly. I remember that Cardinal Richelieu had wonderful paintings by the famous Florentine artist Jacopo Ligozzi. As for the collection of Cardinal Mazarin, this deserves a separate discussion; the images on biblical themes in these paintings were as if they were alive. Of course, there was no hypocrisy in these paintings; from them one could study the anatomy of both the male and female bodies in the smallest detail. Unfortunately, his thick-headed heir, who married one of his nieces, had absolutely no understanding of art and destroyed all these masterpieces. Don't do the same with this candlestick!
- I’m really embarrassed! After all, this trifle, as I already said, is a gift from colleagues. “I would never have acquired such an immodest thing,” de Bezmo tried to justify his secret hobby. - Besides, the Three Graces are by no means a biblical scene.
- Come on, general! How can you know that these are the Three Graces and not Susanna and her two maids?
“But the Bible doesn’t mention Susanna’s handmaids!” - De Bezmo was surprised.
— Servants are rarely mentioned in scripture at all, but this does not mean that noble people did not have servants. Of course, Susanna did not bathe alone, but with her maids, it’s just that the divinely inspired author did not consider it necessary to mention this fact,” Aramis grinned. - However, to the point, otherwise, during the discussion of this subject, I will again forget the purpose of my coming.
“I’m listening to you, Your Eminence,” said Bezmo, taking a sip of wine.
- By the way, excellent wine, Mister Marquis! - Aramis said, also taking a microscopic sip. “The fact is that I forgot to leave for your records the King’s order explaining my actions in your wonderful establishment.” I arrived the day before and spent the whole morning with you awaiting the arrival of Captain d'Artagnan with his escaped prisoner.
- So you were expecting their arrival! - Bezmo exclaimed. “But I must admit, at first I decided that you were my new prisoner.” True, I didn’t know who exactly they brought to me with a bag on his head... - with these words, Bezmo looked at Aramis with a very thoughtful look.
“You have already noticed how susceptible our sovereign is to eccentric antics!” - Aramis smiled with such a disarming smile that Bezmo thought that yesterday morning he had indeed become the victim of another prank.
“I’ll explain,” the prelate continued. - Monsieur Colbert, who delivered me, it was him, wasn’t it? So, Mr. Colbert and I received the highest order to check how the most important person, Mr. Fouquet, was being held in the Bastille. Extreme attention is paid to its content. You understand that a person of this level remains constantly in the spotlight of the highest authority of our state!
“I understand,” Bezmo agreed.
- Undoubtedly! - Aramis nodded. “However, the most effective inspection should take place without warning and in ways that allow us to establish the true state of affairs, and not its appearance. So I suggested a little joke to Mr. Colbert. I suggested that he place me for several hours in a cell similar to the one in which Monsieur Fouquet is housed, and in order not to embarrass you, I asked Monsieur Colbert to hide my face. But you know me too well, so I considered the mask insufficient and suggested using an ordinary bag. You can’t imagine how much I wanted to take off this bag and say hello to you, general! But I restrained myself. And only now, when the inspection gave a very positive result, which I already had the honor of reporting to His Majesty, I came to confess to this little joke and apologize to you.
- Well, monsignor! You are not guilty of anything to me! - Bezmo was embarrassed. “The King’s order regarding the inspection had to be carried out exactly, I understand that!”
“I apologize not for carrying out this inspection, but for not putting your reporting in order, General!” - Aramis answered. “You remember the document that Mr. Colbert gave you when he brought me to you for inspection yesterday morning.” I dictated it myself, so I remember very well the order to imprison me in a separate and most spacious cell, don’t I?
- That's right, monsignor! - Bezmo agreed.
- Well, you see! However, I didn’t leave you an order for my release!
- Indeed! - Bezmo was alarmed. “But I couldn’t detain you, because you showed me the King’s urgent order and hurried out to carry it out!”
“That was true, but I was so shocked by the work of art on your desk that I forgot to leave you a document ensuring full accounting of your affairs!” - Aramis said with a contrite look. - Can you imagine what position I could have put you in during the next regular inspection, if it had been carried out not by me, but by someone else? After all, you have no supporting document for my release!
“What a horror!..” whispered Bezmo, only now realizing his mistake.
“Fortunately, I don’t forget anything and remembered my mistake in time,” the prelate smiled with his disarming smile. - Here is a document that puts everything in its place. Read! Read the outside first.
With these words, he handed the commandant a document folded in an envelope.
- This is the same document that you showed me yesterday when leaving! - Bezmo exclaimed.
“Yes, the same one,” confirmed Aramis.
On the outside of the document, folded like an envelope, was written “Urgent Order of the King” and bore the handwritten signature of Louis XIV. Bezmo unfolded the envelope and read what was written inside in exactly the same handwriting:

"The King's Urgent Order"
Mr. Intendant Colbert and Mr. d'Herblay jointly inspect the quality of detention of the most important state criminals in the Bastille, for which Mr. Colbert should deliver Mr. d'Herblay under the guise of a state criminal to the Bastille and hand him over to the commandant Marquis de Bezmeaux to place him in a separate, most spacious cell, ensuring the process of transferring a prisoner in such a way that his identity remains unknown to the commandant and his staff. Mr. d'Herblay must spend at least six hours in the cell in order to ensure that all conditions of detention for especially important prisoners are strictly observed. After this has been accomplished, it is ordered that M. d'Herblay be released on the basis of this Order, which must be shown to the Commandant of the Bastille. In the event that Monsieur d'Herblay considers the period of stay in the Bastille insufficient to draw up a full report on the results of the inspection, Monsieur d'Artagnan, captain of the royal musketeers, is allowed to remain in the Bastille under the guise of a prisoner for another six hours, but not later than the evening of the same day, after which all three - Mr. Colbert, Mr. d'Herblay and Mr. d'Artagnan - personally report to me on the results of the inspection.

Signed: Louis XIV"

“So, as you can see, everything was carried out in full accordance with this order,” said Aramis. “The inspection is over, and if Monsieur d’Artagnan is still with you and completing his inspection, then...”
- Monsieur d'Artagnan took the prisoner Marchiali to the Pignerol fortress in accordance with the King's orders forty minutes after your departure! — Bezmo hastened to say.
“Of course, such were his plans and such were His Majesty’s orders,” Aramis said without a trace of surprise. “I am glad that my positive report was considered sufficient and no additional inspection by the Captain of the Royal Musketeers was necessary.” “I probably should have looked at Fouquet himself,” Aramis said and paused to watch Bezmo’s reaction. “However, it’s late, he must be already asleep, and we, for our part, have already found out everything we needed.” You passed the next inspection with honor, Mr. Commandant, congratulations! You can take this document in exchange for an order for my alleged arrest.
“But I already entered it in the registration journal,” Bezmo weakly protested.
“Wasn’t there a note on the letter that the order was secret?” - Aramis inquired in surprise. - How so! I remember very well that I dictated that this warning be written!
“It seems like there was something like that,” answered Bezmo. - Let me take a look.
He took out a magazine and extracted an order from it.
- Really! It says "Secret"! - Bezmo exclaimed.
“You keep the king’s secret orders in a journal that any loafer who enters this room can look into!” How imprudent, Mr. General! - said Aramis and shook his head. - Letters with such notes should be returned to those who handed them over so that they themselves destroy them, having the opportunity to make sure that they do not go anywhere further and do not become known to outsiders. Well, I myself will convey this letter to the King, give it here. As for the journal entry, destroy it. Tear out the last page and copy all the entries except this last one onto a new sheet. In return, you will receive this document in which everything is explained,” said Aramis and decisively exchanged his document for the order received by the commandant from Colbert.
“Do you think it would be right to make this exchange?” - Bezmo asked, looking in surprise at the document that Aramis handed him.
“Here is everything that actually happened, and how it happened, and for what reasons!” - Aramis answered. - What bothers you?
“There are no traces left of these actions, I have no confirmation that I carried out this order,” Bezmo said thoughtfully.
- You're right, general! - Aramis answered. - The most correct thing to do with him is as follows.
With these words, Aramis resolutely took the document that Bezmo had just handed in exchange for the order brought by Colbert, crumpled it and threw it into the burning fireplace.
- How so? - Bezmo tried to protest weakly.
“The inspection order was confidential, but not secret,” Aramis said in a soothing tone. “Such documents are ordered to be destroyed personally, while secret orders,” Aramis patted his pocket, in which he had managed to put the order brought by Colbert, “such orders must be returned to the person who signed them.” I will personally deliver the document to His Majesty and report your ideal service.
“Still, it seems to me...” Bezmo muttered uncertainly.
- Anything else? - Aramis asked absentmindedly, adjusting the ring with a remarkable stone, known to M. de Bezmo as the distinctive sign of the general of the Jesuit order. - Do you have any questions for me?
“Your Eminence, I was glad to serve the King and...” said Bezmo with a bow, looking at the ring.
- To the King and only the King, Mister Marquis! - Aramis interrupted him. “You and I decided only on matters related to His Majesty’s instructions.” Perhaps someday we will discuss other matters, but so far we have had no reason to do so.
“As you say, Your Eminence, as you say,” Bezmo answered obediently.
— Your wine is excellent! - Aramis said finally. - And the candlestick... Don’t be shy about it, Mister Commandant! There is no shame in being a connoisseur of true art! So, I will report to the King about your diligence. All the best!
With these words, Aramis leisurely walked down the stone stairs and left the Bastille.
“Thank God he’s no longer here,” he told Bazin. - I had almost no doubt about it!
And the carriage set off in an unknown direction. As soon as she had driven away to a respectful distance, a horseman appeared from the shadows on the opposite street and quickly rushed after the carriage. At the next turn, a street lamp illuminated the face of this mysterious horseman in the uniform of His Majesty's guardsman. If the reader could look at this face, he would recognize Sub-Lieutenant de Trabuson.

LXVII. King's Order

“Gentlemen, I hope you have had enough refreshment,” d’Artagnan said to the guards after he had briefly spoken with Francois, who had arrived at Planchet’s call. “I have already had the honor of showing you the King’s order, according to which you are temporarily coming under my command to carry out a particularly important and secret assignment. Read this order out loud, Lieutenant du Bois.
The lieutenant read:

"The King's Urgent Order"
Captain of the Royal Musketeers d'Artagnan.
Immediately deliver an urgent letter, for which he can use four soldiers of my guard, sending them with dispatches or verbal instructions to the addresses that he knows.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France »
 
“We are carrying a letter containing an urgent order,” said d’Artagnan, patting his pocket. “This order is urgent, secret and extremely important. I would like to introduce you to my orderly for special assignments, Francois de Perrin. Francois! These are Messrs. du Bois, de Chereau, de Savard and de Farcy. Since every dog in Paris knows me, I will wear for a while this red wig and false beard, which my friend, the actor, Monsieur Goliard, lent me. However, my masquerade will not last long, only until the city gates. And how does he wear that damn beard! It reeks of wormwood and God knows what other herbs a mile away! Planchet! We're going, happy stay and thank you for everything!
After this, a small detachment of the listed nobles rode away from Planchet’s establishment and galloped after their captain.

Meanwhile, Colbert's spies were ordered to track down the captain of the royal musketeers, D'Artagnan, who would presumably move alone, trying to cover his tracks. The spies were also ordered not to be distracted by searching, tracking and pursuing individual guardsmen by the names of du Bois, de Chereau, de Savard and de Farcy, whose signs were described in a special order, where it was stated that the journey of these people was a diversionary maneuver, which Don't waste your time and energy. For this reason, when Sub-Lieutenant de Lortie drew the attention of Lieutenant D'Elsorte to this cavalcade, he only waved his hand contemptuously.
- Leave it, de Lortie! - he said. “This is the same diversion we were warned about.” I recognized Messrs. du Bois, de Ch;reau, de Savard and de Farcy, and the same young man who was pretending to be Captain d'Artagnan, trying to lure us in with a false trail and completely confuse our tracks. I believe that the captain himself should be looked for at the opposite end of Paris. Let's go!

The journey to Cannes was long, but passed without any special incidents. After Colbert's spies caught Aramis and took him to Paris, Colbert considered that there were and could not be any other tasks for his people in this seaside town, after which he recalled them all to Paris. This is what d'Artagnan was counting on . However, the Gascon was naturally cautious, and the numerous examples of cunning and betrayal that he encountered many times in his life forced him to act carefully and deliberately.
Having sent his companions along different roads and appointed a small inn near Cape Pointe Croisette as a meeting place, he himself went in search of a ship that could be hired for an urgent trip to L;rins Abbey, located on the island of Saint-Honor;.
“The king ordered the casket with the relics of St. Ambrose to be brought!” - he said to the captain of the ship. “This is a secret assignment necessary for His Majesty’s strength in one important and stately matter,” he added with a wink. “All of France is eagerly awaiting the birth of an heir.” Cardinal de Retz pointed to the relics of St. Ambrose as the most effective means. Everything that I told you, of course, is not subject to publicity, but I see that you are a modest and decent person, and I can fully rely on your modesty.
The captain was filled with pride and awareness of the importance of the mission entrusted to him, which, however, did not stop him from charging him a very hefty price for renting the ship.
“Remember, my friend, that the relics of St. Ambrose are not a thing that can be transported in a simple casket. I will need a carriage, which should be placed on a ship and taken to the island of Saint-Honorat.
“Perhaps it will have to be secured better so that if it rolls, it remains motionless,” the captain said doubtfully.
- Great! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “We will also take two horses on board.”
“Do we really need to travel around the island of Saint-Honorat in a carriage?” — the captain of the ship was surprised. - There’s nowhere to turn around! There is not even one mile along the entire length of the island!
- Fine! - D'Artagnan agreed. “We’ll take the smallest carriage you can find, and only one horse.” But keep in mind, this is the least I can agree to. Don't forget that we will carry the relics of St. Ambrose! And don’t forget about the high goal of this mission! Such value cannot simply be carried in the hands of the King’s Order, you see! - With these words, d'Artagnan unfolded the paper he received from the King in front of the captain and allowed him to read it carefully.
The captain agreed to fulfill exactly all of d'Artagnan's demands.
At dawn the next day, the ship headed for the island of Saint-Honorat.
 
“Captain, we must go around the island of Saint-Marguerite on the right,” said d’Artagnan, anxiously peering into the horizon.
“Of course, Your Excellency,” replied the captain.
- Do you know me? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“I noticed the count’s coat of arms on the guard of your sword,” answered the captain. — I know a little about heraldry.
“ So much the better,” answered d’Artagnan and moved away from the captain, involuntarily covering the mentioned coat of arms on the guard of his sword with his finger.
But as soon as the ship turned around the cape of the island of Saint-Marguerite, d'Artagnan approached the captain and abruptly ordered:
- We have arrived, captain. Land at the island of Saint-Marguerite.
“But our goal is L;rins Abbey on the island of Saint-Honorat, isn’t it?” - asked the captain.
- Exactly, but first we will visit the island of Saint-Marguerite and take from the fortress a silver reliquary for relics, which is kept by the commandant of the fortress, Mr. de Saint-Mars.
- Why is the reliquary kept in the fortress and not in the monastery? - the captain was surprised.
“Because it is decorated with diamonds and emeralds,” answered d’Artagnan. — Any more questions? - he asked coldly and harshly.
“You didn’t talk about this before sailing,” the captain said timidly.
- So I'm talking about it now. - answered d'Artagnan. “Whatever you need to know, you will find out in due course.” And take care that the carriage and horse are brought ashore with all due care, without damaging the carriage or damaging the horse! The reliquary should be transported with the same respect and care as if it already contained the relics of St. Ambrose.
As soon as the ship landed on the island of Saint-Marguerite, the carriage was brought ashore with all the care and thoroughness of which the ship's crew was capable. Following the carriage, a horse was brought ashore.
- Messrs. du Bois, de Chereau, de Savard and de Farcy! - said d'Artagnan , turning to the guards. “Stay here and keep an eye on the captain.” I am taking Mister de Perrin, this will be enough to complete my mission in the fortress. You are entrusted with a task of extreme importance. You are responsible for ensuring that the captain does not decide to evade further obligations of the contract that we have concluded with him. As soon as we return with the carriage, it must be immediately loaded onto the ship, as well as the horse, after which we urgently set off for the island of Saint-Honorat. The slightest delay is unacceptable.
“It will be done,” Du Bois answered for everyone, the rest of the guards also confirmed that the assigned task would be completed exactly.
Francois helped harness the horse to the carriage, sat on the box, the captain climbed inside the carriage and ordered Francois:
- Forward to the Pignerol fortress!
Approaching the fortress within a musket shot, d'Artagnan ordered Franus to stop the carriage.
- Wait here. I will go into the fortress, and for now you stay where you are. When you see that I waved my hat at you from the fortress wall, drive into the inner courtyard of the fortress through the gate that will open in front of you, turn the carriage towards the exit and wait for me. I will go out and sit in the carriage, then one person wearing a mask will be brought out to us, and after he gets into the carriage, we can go back straight to the ship's parking lot. I will not tolerate delays; if you have natural needs, take care of yourself in advance. If changes need to be made to this plan, I will let you know. Do you understand everything, Francois?
- It will be done exactly, captain! - answered Francois.
After these words, d'Artagnan raised his hat, which was placed on the tip of his sword, over his head and slowly moved towards the fortress.
When d'Artagnan walked half the remaining distance to the fortress, he saw a small smoke above the fortress wall, but even earlier a bullet hit a stone ten steps in front of him. D'Artagnan waved his hat three times, after which he took it off his sword, put it on his head and began to wait. A minute later, an officer emerged from the gates of the fortress and headed towards d'Artagnan.
Approaching and seeing that he was dealing with the captain of the royal musketeers, whom the officer remembered from a previous visit, he saluted and approached d'Artagnan.
- Order of the King! - D'Artagnan said briefly, pulled out a paper from the lapel of his left hand and handed it to the officer.
The officer looked at the document, saluted again and said “Let’s go!” turned and headed towards the fortress gates.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan! - Saint-Mars exclaimed, coming out of the gate to meet his guest, as soon as he saw and recognized his guest. -Have you brought me a new prisoner?
“I’m taking the old one for a while,” the captain replied, extending his hand for a warmer greeting. “I trust that you fed your guest well and took care of him as prescribed in the King’s orders?”
“That’s exactly what happened, Count,” answered Saint-Mars. - So you're taking him?
“Read for yourself and draw your own conclusions,” answered d’Artagnan.
Saint-Mars unfolded the paper and read the very text that d'Artagnan dictated to the King in the Bastille.

"The King's Order
To the commandant of the fortress: to entrust the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan to remove the prisoner Marciali and take him away in a closed carriage waiting for him in the courtyard of the fortress, for which purpose the captain of the musketeers is ordered to leave the fortress in advance and wait for the prisoner inside the carriage, while the commandant is to take out the prisoner Marciali in a mask, showing him the respect corresponding to the rank of duke, addressing him by the title “Monsignor” and escort him into this carriage, then close the door and order to open the gates of the fortress, recall his people and not interfere with the departure of the carriage according to his needs.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France »

- Do you have a carriage? - Saint-Mars exclaimed in surprise. - Here, on this tiny island?
“That’s right, commandant,” d’Artagnan smiled. - The King's orders must be carried out exactly. If the order had required a six-seater carriage drawn by four horses, then I would have delivered such a carriage here. Fortunately, it is enough to have the most modest carriage with a single horse. I will give it to you when it has fulfilled its purpose. You can pick it up at the south pier after I leave. And my advice to you is to keep it in good condition for at least a month. Something tells me that I will return your prisoner to you within this time frame, and perhaps through the same intricate procedure. Any questions left, Commandant?
“Except for one thing, captain,” replied Saint-Mars. - Where is it, this carriage of yours?
“So you weren’t watching me from the fortress wall?” - asked d'Artagnan. “You can see it perfectly from there.” Go get the prisoner, while I give a signal to my officer to drive the carriage into the fortress yard.
“Of course, captain,” replied Saint-Mars. - Open the gate! Let the carriage in! - he shouted to the guard, after which he turned again to d'Artagnan. - Wait, captain. According to the order, you are to wait inside the carriage. Therefore, I will take the prisoner out after the carriage enters the yard and you sit inside.
“I suppose you are not too surprised by the prescribed ritual,” d’Artagnan grinned.
“My duties, captain, are to follow orders exactly,” Saint-Mars answered dryly, “and being surprised is not my thing.”
“Extremely clever, Monsieur Commandant,” agreed d’Artagnan.
“Why the hell did I ask him this question? - D'Artagnan asked himself, making symbols with his hat from the fortress wall. - It's nerves! We need to pull ourselves together and calm down.” He forced himself to slowly descend from the fortress wall into the courtyard.
At that moment a carriage drove into the yard, Francois turned its front towards the exit, and d'Artagnan took one of two places in it. Five minutes later, the doors of one of the towers opened, and Saint-Mars came out, accompanying a prisoner in an iron mask.
The prisoner, without the slightest hesitation and without a single word, walked up to the carriage and sat down in the empty seat.
- Key? - asked d'Artagnan.
“It doesn’t lock,” Saint-Mars answered. — there is a simple fastening on the straps.
“Okay,” replied the captain. - Francois, go ahead!
Francois whipped up his horse, and the carriage quickly rolled out of the fortress gates.
“Hello, Your Highness,” said d’Artagnan. “You don’t seem at all surprised?”
“I was waiting for this,” Philip answered calmly.
- So much the better! - D'Artagnan nodded. “Let’s get this mess out of the way, but I will ask you to put on a wig and a false beard, otherwise your journey home may encounter unexpected obstacles.”
- Home? - asked the prince. — Did you say: “Home”? Where is this going?
“To the Louvre,” answered d’Artagnan indifferently. “From now on, the Louvre will be your home.”
- Lord, thank you! - the prince exclaimed and began to hastily take off his mask.
- Be careful, Your Highness! - D'Artagnan smiled. - Take care of your face, and don’t tear the fasteners on this mask with such fury. It will still be useful.
- Will it be useful? — Philip asked warily.
“I suppose it’s not for you,” d’Artagnan smiled and for the first time that day allowed himself to admire the sea horizon. — Great weather at sea! - he said. “The wind is not completely favorable, but we will reach the shore quite quickly on tacks.” For us, it would be much more dangerous if there was complete calm or a storm and storm with squally winds.
- There will be no storms, believe me! - Philip answered. “But we shouldn’t expect complete calm either.”
- Magnificent, Your Majesty! - D'Artagnan nodded and bowed.
“You said?..” Philip whispered.
- Yes. But put on a wig and a beard, we have already arrived,” answered d’Artagnan.

As soon as the carriage arrived at the pier, d'Artagnan left it and helped the prince get out of it. Then, tearing one of the curtains from the window on the carriage door, with a deft movement he wrapped an iron mask in it and hurried to the ship, where Philip had already escorted the prince.
The captain made a sign to his sailors to lift the carriage onto the ship, but d'Artagnan stopped them with a decisive gesture.
- Leave it! I give this carriage along with the horse to the commandant of the fortress. He'll pick her up later.
- How will we deliver the relics of Saint Ambrose from the island of Saint-Honorat? - the captain was surprised.
- You won't believe it, captain! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - We are incredibly lucky! It turns out that the relics of Saint Ambrose are already in the silver casket, right here. - With these words, he raised the bundle with the iron mask above his head. “Father Martini was so kind that, in anticipation of our arrival, he himself delivered the relics of St. Ambrose to the island of Saint-Marguerite and undertook to accompany us all the way to Paris! - With these words, d'Artagnan bowed to Philip with respect. - This is great luck! The relics of Saint Ambrose will have special miraculous powers if Father Martini himself takes part in their delivery to Paris!
- Father Martini? — the captain asked in surprise, looking at Philip.
“I’m just here today, without ranks or vestments,” Philip answered condescendingly, after which he crossed the captain and extended his hand for a kiss.
The captain, by these natural gestures, recognized Philip as a priest, so he reverently kissed his hand and said:
- Thank you, sir!
The guardsmen and sailors took their places, after which the ship rushed to the shores of France, heading for Cape Pointe Croisette.

LXVIII. Prelate's decision

The carriage carried Aramis, Bazin and d'Aunay away from Paris.
The prelate took from his pocket the paper seized from Commandant Bezmeaux and read the following:

"Secret
Order of the King to the Commandant of the Bastille

Take into custody the prisoner, taken with an accompanying person who has this letter with him, into a separate and most spacious cell.
Exclude any contacts of this prisoner with anyone until another prisoner and his accompanying person arrive, who are freely allowed into the specified cell. The accompanying person must be released from the Bastille upon request.

Signed: Louis XIV "

“Not a bad document,” thought Aramis, carefully folding it and returning it to his pocket. “Under different circumstances, this could have been completed in a matter that even Athos recognized as great.” However, how to extract Philippe from Pignerol? Under current circumstances, this is beyond the power of even me! And yet... What if it works? Going to Cannes? In the conditions of a chase, when all of France is swarming with Colbert's spies, this path is too dangerous! The route through Spain would be safer. Or through Italy. No matter how long such a detour may seem, I will only be within reach of Colbert's spies as long as I am in France. This means we must leave France by the shortest route.”
“ We are going to Le Havre, Bazin,” he said. - Lieutenant d'Aunay, in Le Havre we will part ways with you and will maintain contact in the same way as before.
Bazin immediately gave appropriate instructions to the coachman.
“Will the monsignor send me his instructions to Le Havre?” Does the monsignor also have his own people in Le Havre? asked Lieutenant D'Aunay.
“In Le Havre, of course, I have my own people,” answered Aramis, “but you do not need to wait for my news in Le Havre.” After my departure you will return to Paris. I would like to make peace with the King. I intended to crush him, but changed my mind. The war with him is exhausting for both of us. This is not the best way. I'm ready to offer peace, although I don't have a solid plan yet. But he will. To begin with, I just need information.
At that moment, Aramis felt ashamed of his words and intentions.
“Reconcile with the King? Will I really forgive him for the death of Porthos? Unthinkable!
“I guess it won’t be forever,” he added. “At the moment we are too crowded in one state, and I prefer to retreat temporarily, but in the near future we may become crowded in Europe, and then I will force the King to retreat. However, I'm tired. I need to rest and think things over.
With these words, Aramis leaned back in the softly cushioned seat of the carriage and closed his eyes. From the outside one would have thought that the prelate was sleeping, but he was only thinking, giving rest to his vision.
“You can’t show weakness,” he thought. “One of these three has already betrayed me, because I gave in somewhere!”
“I’ve changed my mind, d’Aunay,” he said. “You will go with me to Spain by sea, where I will present you to the Spanish King.” You will be my envoy and will enjoy immunity as a foreign subject officially accredited as a representative of the Spanish Court to the French Court. Are you happy with this prospect?”
“Thank you, monsignor,” replied d’Aunay. - With the permission of Your Eminence, I would prefer the first option. I am a soldier and am ready to serve you as such. But I'm not a diplomat.
“Your considerations are accepted,” Aramis agreed. - So, go to Paris. Bezmo, remind me that I recommend appointing the Duke d'Alameda as the representative of Madrid at the court of France.
Bazin, who heard this name for the first time in his life, nodded his head as if he understood perfectly well what kind of person he was talking about. Lieutenant d'Aunay looked at Aramis with respect and became lost in his own thoughts.

In Le Havre, Bazin found out which of the ships would sail towards Spain in the very near future. The ship "Caesar" was heading to Morocco, but was going to call at ports in Spain and Portugal, the first of which was Bilbao. Aramis and Bazin boarded the ship, where he chartered two cabins.
As soon as the ship entered neutral waters, Aramis went out onto the deck to take another look at the shores of France, which, perhaps, he was leaving forever.
He took the King's order from his pocket and re-read the document again.
— An excellent document and a good opportunity! - he said to himself to the sound of the wind and waves. - But I've had enough!
After these words, he tore the order into small pieces and threw them into the sea.

Going down to the cabin, he threw himself face down on the bunk and hit the bunk twice with force with the fist of his right hand. Then he lay down on his back and, looking at the dusty ceiling with smudges of white paint, said:
- Porthos! My dear Porthos! Will you really remain unavenged?!
He looked at his finger and in anger tore off his ring as a general of the Jesuit order. Another moment and he would have thrown it out the open window. But, after hesitating a little, he calmed down and replaced the ring in its original place.
“We’ll see...” he said to himself. - We'll see... Who - who. We should have stayed together, all four of us. This was my mistake. The biggest mistake.
After these words, he tiredly closed his eyes and began to listen to the splash of the waves overboard. For the first time in the last thirty-five years, he did not think of any plan, but simply lay and listened to the splashing of the waves.

 LXIX. Enemies

Having seen off the ship, Lieutenant d'Aunay returned to the carriage.
“We’re going back to Paris,” he said to the coachman and grabbed the door handle, intending to get into the carriage.
At that moment he felt someone's hand on his shoulder.
- Just a minute, Lieutenant! - he heard a familiar voice.
Turning around, d'Aunay saw Sub-Lieutenant de Trabuson.
“We need to discuss something, don’t you think?” - asked de Trabuson.
“You mean your treacherous betrayal at Pointe Croisette?” asked D'Aunay.
“I mean your treacherous betrayal much earlier,” replied de Trabuson.
“It seemed to me that we both, almost simultaneously, decided to help the Bishop of Vannes in solving his little problems,” objected d’Aunay, “and at that moment my decision, like exactly the same decision of yours, did not seem to you a treacherous betrayal, is not it? Or am I missing something?
“To temporarily yield to brutal violence is not treason if there is no other choice,” replied de Trabuson. “But it seemed to me that you got a taste for serving this treacherous nobleman, that is, you liked being the enemy of France and the King.”
“The proposals made to me by this nobleman,” objected d’Aunay, “until now have not given me any reason to consider myself an enemy of France and the King.” I have become acquainted with the aims, reasons and methods of Monsignor's actions and find them quite compatible with my concepts of honor and justice, while the methods of Monsieur Colbert have always evoked in me only disgust.
“Monsieur Colbert is a civil servant who serves the King of France faithfully, while your so-called monsignor serves himself in the fight against the King and France.
“Our opinions on this matter do not coincide,” D’Aunay answered calmly. - If you were not satisfied with the position of Monsieur d'Herblay's client, you apparently had the opportunity to inform him about this and terminate all previously reached agreements.
“This client is a state criminal who should have been captured and handed over to Monsieur Colbert!” - exclaimed de Trabuson.
“As far as I can tell, that’s exactly what you did, Monsieur Sub-Lieutenant,” replied d’Aunay. “But since I recently saw Monsieur d’Herblay free, it must be assumed that the King forgave the monsignor, or did not find any guilt in him, which makes serving this gentleman on conditions acceptable to both parties completely legal.”
- You are in the service of the King, being a guardsman! - exclaimed de Trabuson.
- Not anymore! - D'Aunay objected. “I resigned as soon as I realized that I could no longer carry out Mr. Colbert’s instructions, and I received this resignation. Thus, I am free to dispose of myself and enter into those alliances that do not infringe on my honor and civic duty. Together with you, we were engaged in the rescue of two nobles under the leadership of Lieutenant du Chante. At this moment you did not consider yourself a traitor, did you?
“This order did not contradict my convictions and my civic duty, so I carried it out,” d’Aunay retorted.
“I can say exactly the same thing about all the orders of the monsignor,” replied du Chantet.
“I don’t think so,” de Trabuson objected.
“ Listen, de Trabucon, ” said d’Aunay. - Despite the fact that we seem to argue, it seems to me that we understand each other perfectly. You are looking for an excuse to challenge me to a duel, I am doing the same thing. Why bicker if you and I both have a sword? We only need seconds, but here in Rouen I don’t know anyone. We can stop the first two nobles we meet and ask them to be our seconds, or we can arrange a meeting in Paris. Any option suits me.
- Wonderful! - exclaimed de Trabuson. - Let's go. There are two noble-looking men coming.
- Gentlemen! - D'Aunay exclaimed, addressing two passers-by who looked like nobles. - Could you help us? We need two seconds.
One of the people who turned around was wearing a half mask; he covered his face with his hand and stepped back to the side. His companion whispered something in his ear and approached de Trabuson and d'Aunay.
“I beg your pardon, gentlemen, we can’t help you,” he answered in a quiet voice. “The fact is that we are in a hurry, and besides,” here he began to speak even more quietly, “besides, my companion is completely unsuitable for this service.” The point is that this is a lady. I rely on your modesty, gentlemen. I can’t go into detail about the reasons that made her wear a man’s dress, but believe me, that...
“Say no more,” D’Aunay interrupted him. - We will try to find other seconds.
“There are two more coming over there,” said de Trabuson. - Listen, gentlemen! - he shouted rudely and deliberately loudly. - We would like to contact you about a small matter!
The nobles looked around in disbelief and quickened their pace, quickly moving away from the suspicious people.
“It won’t work out for us,” said de Trabuson. “They take us for robbers.” It's already getting dark, so it's not surprising that people are scared of us. It is necessary that only one of us goes in search of a second, and it is advisable that he does not have a sword with him.
- But a sword is a mandatory attribute of a military uniform! - D'Aunay objected.
“You yourself just said that you are no longer a military man, because you submitted your resignation and received it!” - objected de Trabuson.
“Well, you’re right,” agreed D’Aunay. “In that case, hold my sword and wait somewhere aside.”
“Great, let’s go to that pier, there’s a bench there where you can leave your sword and cloak so that no one would suspect that you’re hiding a dagger under your cloak,” suggested de Trabuson.
“Excellent,” agreed D’Aunay.
He walked with a decisive step to the pier, took off his sword along with the belt and carefully laid it on the bench standing on the pier. Then he took off his cloak and also carefully laid it on the pier.
“At the same time, we can compare the length of our swords,” said de Trabuson, taking d’Aunay’s sword from its scabbard. - Look! It seems to me that your sword is a little longer! Let's compare now.
With these words, he also took his sword out of its scabbard and placed it against D'Aunay's sword.
- Yes, indeed, longer, but just a little! - he exclaimed.
- Really? - exclaimed d' Aunay , who had already moved a few steps away from the bench on which he had placed his cloak and sword. - Let me take a look.
- Look! - exclaimed de Trabuson.
With these words, he forcefully plunged D'Aunay's sword into his chest.
D'Aunay wheezed, grabbed the sword that pierced him, and wanted to say something, but at that moment his heart stopped beating, he swayed and fell into the water.
De Trabuson took d'Aunay's cloak from the bench and threw it into the black water behind the pier, after which he turned towards the city and calmly walked away from the scene of the terrible crime.

LXX. Continuation of the story about the relics

- Well, here we are! - D'Artagnan exclaimed when the ship buried its nose into one of the piers at Pointe Croisette. “And here are the grooms who, according to my orders, brought our horses and our carriage here.” Captain, receive the second half of the payment for your services!
With these words, d'Artagnan handed the purse with the required amount to the captain.
- Holy father! - he turned to Philip. “Will you allow the reliquary with the relics of St. Ambrose to be transferred from the ship to that carriage by four officers of His Majesty’s guard, or do you prefer to do it yourself?”
“Two officers will be enough,” answered Philip condescendingly, having been instructed by d’Artagnan during the journey to the mainland and fully embraced his role.
- Du Bois, de Savard, please! - D'Artagnan ordered and gestured to the package.
The guards carefully picked up the bundle in which the iron mask lay, and carried it into the carriage with such solemnity, as if it really was a reliquary with holy relics.
- Remember, captain, don’t say a word to anyone about this mission! - D'Artagnan said to the skipper and winked.

Returning home, the captain proudly declared to his wife:
- Thanks to me, France will receive an heir to the throne!
— When did you manage to go to Paris? - the captain was mockingly asked by his wife Melanie with a fair amount of irony.
- You don’t understand anything! Thanks to me, miraculous relics were delivered from Lerins Abbey that will help His Majesty conceive an heir,” the captain explained.
- Blockhead! The King already has a son! - Melanie objected.
“In such an important matter, one heir is not reliable enough,” the captain said hesitantly, not even realizing how correct the thought he had just formulated. “It’s always good to have an extra couple of male heirs when you have something to pass on to your descendants!”
- Look who's Talking! Melanie laughed.
“You know what, dear,” the captain said seriously, looking not into his wife’s eyes, but much lower, “I secretly managed to touch the reliquary with the relics of St. Ambrose and I already feel what great power this saint has endowed me with.” We will deal with the issue of providing for the heir right now.
- Go away! - Melanie playfully pushed her husband away. - "Right now!" - she mimicked him. - I still have a lot to do...
“Later, everything later,” the captain waved him off. “The grace of Saint Ambrose, you know, will not wait.”
“Jean-Paul, you are so mysterious today!” Melanie said, calling her husband by name for the first time in the last three years.

Of course, by evening, half of the gossips in the little-known town of Cannes knew that the King of France was preparing to conceive another heir, and that the relics of St. Ambrose, delivered from L;rins Abbey on the island of Saint-Honor;, should help him with this. The gossips told the most complete fables about the miraculous power of the holy relics, which our pen resolutely refuses to retell.

When these rumors reached the abbot of the abbey, he summoned the keeper of the holy gifts and asked him:
“Why wasn’t I notified that the relics of St. Ambrose left our abbey and headed to Paris to strengthen His Majesty’s virility?”
— This is the first time I’ve heard about this, sir! - answered the keeper.
“Let’s go to the storage room,” said the abbot, who did not believe the keeper.
Having descended into the repository of the holy gifts to the abbey, the abbot carefully walked through all the rooms and all the tables with gifts.
- Why is this place empty? he asked, pointing to one of the empty tables.
“We have not yet received gifts from the parishioners to fill this place; it, so to speak, awaits those shrines that will end up here over time.
- Well, at least you have already ordered a reliquary for the relics of St. Ambrose? - asked the abbot with irritation.
“I believe that...” the keeper began.
“I’m not interested in what you think, I asked if you ordered the reliquary?” - asked the abbot, boiling with anger.
“I was going to do it this morning,” answered the keeper.
- Lord, your will! You have to remember everything yourself! Don't delay with this! Who did the drawings? - the abbot asked sternly.
“There’s a jeweler on the coast who usually…” said the keeper.
- Jew? - the abbot asked briefly.
“Maran, lord,” the keeper answered modestly.
- Maran... Well, okay. How much will it cost the abbey?
— We will announce a special collection. Today I will send four brothers with mugs to the coast to collect money for the ark.
“Eight,” Vladyka corrected, “no, ten is better.” You should not skimp on such matters. And announce that the relics of Saint Ambrose have already arrived and are kept with us, unfortunately, so far only in a silver casket. Is that so? - he asked sternly and looked sternly at the keeper.
“They will soon be delivered by ship from the mainland,” the keeper answered evasively.
“Okay, I won’t bore you any further with the details of this matter, but you must understand that the reliquary must correspond to the level of sainthood that makes our abbey especially important to the interests of France.” I hope you don't need to be taught such things.

All evening the abbot rummaged through the monastery library in search of information about Saint Ambrose. The only thing he was able to find out was that the said saint preached mainly in Milan, and also that he was intolerant in some matters, according to which he might not approve of the abbey's choice of the authors of the project and the manufacturers of the reliquary for his relics .
“What can I do about the fact that you won’t find a Catholic among the jewelers during the day?” - the ruler said to himself. - That's how it happens! He lived and preached in Milan, and his relics are kept in our abbey. However, we wiped their noses!
This thought greatly lifted the bishop’s spirits. In this sublime mood, he allowed himself to be tired at the coming sleep with an extra half-cup of monastery wine, after which he went to rest, filled with a just awareness of the extreme importance of the abbey entrusted to his care.
The author does not undertake to describe further causes and consequences of events related to the instructions received by the custodian; he only notes that less than six months later a reliquary with the relics of St. Ambrose appeared in the monastery, which, according to rumors, greatly contributed to the strengthening of male power in the conception of heirs.
D'Artagnan, however, never found out about this, since the whole story about the relics and their healing power, as well as the name of the saint, were invented by him in order to avoid explanations with the captain about the true reasons for the expedition to the island of Saint-Marguerite.


LXXI. To Paris!

On the way from Cannes to Paris, d'Artagnan changed his method of travel several times. Sometimes travelers traveled along the main road of the city in a carriage, sometimes, on the contrary, they chose a bypass road along which they rode on horseback; in some cases they were divided into two or even three groups. All these manipulations were incomprehensible to his small detachment, but the guards, being military men, did not ask unnecessary questions on this occasion, Philippe and Francois also preferred to remain silent or talk about the most abstract topics.
To everyone's surprise, d'Artagnan headed his way not to Paris, but to Chartres, where, having gathered four guardsmen, he gave them an unexpected commission.
Having unrolled the curtain from the carriage, in which, as our readers remember, the iron mask had previously been wrapped, he took out from it a small silver box, locked with a secret lock.
“ In this box, my friends, is what we have come such a long way for!” - he solemnly informed the guards. - Messrs. du Bois, de Savard, de Chereau and de Farcy! You have the honor of delivering this reliquary to the Rouen Cathedral! The king sends this gift to the rector of the cathedral and asks for his blessing for the birth of the Dauphin. Father Martini will not go with you, since he is leaving today for Lerins Abbey. This is the will of the King. Meanwhile, I am ordered to go to Le Mans, where, together with Francois, I will fulfill the second part of the King’s order. Having handed over this reliquary to the rector of Rouen Cathedral, you can return to Paris, since this will complete your mission. By the way, be careful. There is information that robbers may attack you and try to take away this shrine. Do not give it away under any circumstances; you must deliver it to the abbot. However, I don’t expect a large number of robbers, well, maybe two or three. You can handle it. This is the most difficult and most dangerous part of your mission, but I have hope in you and believe in your loyalty to the King. Have questions? A day to rest and move on. You will receive twenty pistoles each for travel expenses.
The guards replied that they understood the order and that they would carry it out thoroughly.
The next morning, as soon as the guards were out of sight, d'Artagnan turned to Philippe and Francois who remained with him:
“So, we got rid of unnecessary witnesses; we don’t need their help in Paris, and their presence would only harm the work we started.” I couldn’t let them go either, because they would certainly immediately come to Colbert and report on all the details of our journey. Now we need to reach Paris and complete our mission before these fellows reach Rouen and return from there to Paris. I can imagine the surprise of the rector of Rouen Cathedral when he opens the reliquary.
- What's inside it? — Philip asked with a smile.
- I have no idea! - D'Artagnan burst out laughing. — Presumably the handiwork of some pious marquise, who wove lace for the monstrance in order to atone for the sins of her youth. The key to the box was hopelessly lost and it was very difficult to open it, so I bought it for the price of scrap silver by weight. How else could I get rid of these burdensome travel companions? Anyway, enough chatter, friends, let's go! In Paris!
And the three horsemen, without wasting any time, galloped to the capital, where the ruler was the one who considered d'Artagnan and all his friends his enemies.
“Captain,” said Francois as the travelers approached the southern gate of the city. “I believe that Father Martini, as you call him, would not want to meet Colbert’s spies even more than you.”
“That’s right, my friend, you grasp the essence of the problem on the fly,” agreed the captain of the musketeers.
“In that case, I believe that it would be better for me to ride into the city first and visit Messire Planchet in order to obtain the most accurate and up-to-date information about events in the city, while it would be better for you to leave your horses and get to the center of Paris by river.”
“Your proposal, Francois, is reasonable, but we don’t have that much time to get there by river.” We will buy a cart with vegetables and enter Paris under the guise of village traders who brought food to the market. You go to Planchet and warn him of our arrival. We will be there by evening.
D'Artagnan shook hands with Francois and patted him on the shoulder, the friends wished each other good luck and parted.
- Smart guy! - Philippe said with approval about Francois, who had galloped off to the center of Paris.
“I thought about that myself,” agreed d’Artagnan. - I would gladly take him into my squad as a musketeer...
Here d'Artagnan stopped short:
“Perhaps my squad no longer exists.” The king has apparently appointed a new captain for the royal musketeers.
- Your King, Monsieur d'Artagnan, does not plan to appoint any other person to this post, since he finds this position exclusively suitable for you, and only you! - Philip exclaimed.
He said this so simply and naturally, referring to his own final decision, that d'Artagnan admired how much the young man had changed since the moment he first saw him.
“The lesson was beneficial,” thought d’Artagnan. “I’m not taking someone’s puppet to Paris, I’m taking the King to Paris!” Neither Aramis, nor I, nor Colbert will control this man. He will not take a first minister to rule the country in his place, he will not submit to the whims of the Queen Mother or his wife or favorite. This young man intends to decide the fate of France and his own destiny. Well, with God! I don’t know how yet, but I will help him take the throne of France. Damn it, I could use Aramis’ help right now, but, God willing, we can handle it!”
“Do you have any plan, Monsieur d’Artagnan, for how I will take my rightful place?” - asked Philip.
“There is no definite plan yet, monsignor, but we will come up with something,” answered d’Artagnan, feeling some awkwardness from the lack of a clear and win-win plan.
“It’s not scary, Mister Captain,” Philip answered condescendingly. - As a last resort, I have such a plan. I will simply show up at the Louvre and throw the usurper out, have him arrested, and my troops will listen to me, not him.
D'Artagnan looked at Philip with admiration and realized that he was right.
“I hope, sire, that it won’t come to that,” he said softly. “It would be highly desirable to avoid such excesses, although as a last resort your plan is quite suitable.”
“Well, captain,” Philip smiled. - Let's go buy a greengrocer's cart, a pair of wide-brimmed hats and aprons and off to Paris?
- Forward to Paris! - D'Artagnan agreed.

LXXII. Princess

Princess Henrietta sadly sorted through her jewelry, noting that for a whole month she had not added anything new to this collection, so it was extremely difficult for her to put together an appropriate set for an evening out for dinner.
Sighing, she decided to put on the pearls that she had already worn twice in the last month before the King.
- How difficult life has become! - she sighed.
“Madam, the Comte de Guiche has come to you and asks to receive him,” reported the Princess’s maid of honor, Ora de Montale.
“Ask,” the princess answered with a breath, trying in vain to portray boredom and indifference.
- Madam, it's me! - exclaimed de Guiche, entering and falling to the princess’s hand.
“Are you eager to get a beating from the King for once again giving reasons for jealousy to his brother?” - Henrietta smiled slyly.
“A thrashing from the King is nothing compared to the thrashing we all received from the Turks,” de Guiche sighed. “But, you know, the only thrashing that would really upset me is a thrashing from Your Highness.”
“By what right could I give a thrashing to you, Count, a representative of such a noble family of the de Gramonts?” - the princess was surprised.
“By the right of the goddess, to whose altar the enthusiastic admirer has not brought any gifts for too long,” de Guiche answered with a smile. “However, I hasten to correct my mistake and bring her a small souvenir from the trip as a gift.”
With these words, de Guiche took from his pocket a small heart-shaped box, lined with pink velvet.
The princess opened it and saw a set consisting of two small, but very elegant earrings with diamonds and a ring paired with them.
- What will the Prince say when he sees these things on me? - asked Henrietta, blushing with pleasure. - You're making him jealous, Count!
“This is the only thing that remains for me, Madame,” de Guiche smiled. - When you have no reason to be proud of the desired victories, all that remains is to arouse suspicion of their existence among those to whom these victories would be especially burdensome!
“Ah, Count, you chose absolutely the wrong object for adoration that should have been chosen,” Henrietta said with ostentatious sadness. “Several dozen court ladies of any refined taste would happily respond to your advances, while you are attacking an unfortunate princess who is not in the mood for adventures of this kind.”
- What can you do, Your Highness! - de Guiche sighed. - Lawless Heart!
“Tell me about your glorious victories over the Turks,” Henrietta smiled. “I’m sure you have something to tell.”
“Alas, there were fewer victories than defeats,” de Guiche answered sadly. “The forces were not equal and we finally had to leave the fortress. We have lost the glorious Duke de Beaufort!
“News of this has already reached the court,” Henrietta said with unfeigned sadness. “He was a peculiar person, but very worthy, despite all his eccentricities. I'm truly sorry. “With these words, the princess absentmindedly put the gifted ring on her finger and went to the mirror to try on the earrings as well.
- Unfortunate fate! - de Guiche agreed. — By the way, another amazing person and my friend died in this sortie.
- Indeed? - asked Henrietta. - I haven’t heard anything about this! Who is this?
“Viscount de Bragelonne, Princess,” replied de Guiche. “It seemed to me that he was deliberately looking for death, since for ten whole days before he had taken an active part in all sorties and walked so boldly along the fortress wall in sight of the Turks that it was only by a miracle that he was not killed. But his destiny finally found him!
“Don’t grieve for him, my friend,” the Princess sighed. “This unfortunate young man was killed much earlier, and not there, in the fortress, but here, in the Louvre.”
“By the way, I remembered that I have a letter from him for Mademoiselle de La Valli;re,” exclaimed de Guiche. “We must definitely take it to her.”
“Better tear it up and throw it away, Count,” Henrietta smiled sadly. “This person is interested in the letters of only one person, with whom she sees several times a day, which does not prevent him from writing numerous messages in between their dates.
“I see that you are jealous of the King for her,” said de Guiche. “This makes my presence at your feet completely unnecessary, Madame.” Let me take my leave.
“Go, Count, and find yourself an object more favorable to your attentions,” Henrietta answered without a hint of resentment. “I would like to see you as a faithful friend, but everyone around is trying to convince me that simple friendship between a man and a woman is impossible.”
“And they are right, Your Highness,” the count answered with a bow, kissing the princess’s hand.
- God, how boring this is! - Henrietta said in a capricious tone. - Go, Count! See you at dinner time.

LXXIII. Favorite

Mademoiselle de La Valli;re was walking through the park all alone. Numerous courtiers, realizing that there was no way to gain access to the King's benefits through her intercession, despite the inexplicable power she had acquired over him, finally left her alone.
She asked nothing from the King for herself, and therefore would not ask anything for anyone else. This, most likely, explained the incomprehensible power over him, which forced the King to treat her at the same time as a goddess, and as a favorite toy, and as the future mother of his children. His blind adoration was sometimes replaced by extreme irritation if he did not find in her what he expected, but after the storm the Sun invariably appeared in their relationship, and although Louise had already tried several times to go to the monastery forever, Louis always found the time and desire to come there for her and on her knees begging her to return, which Louise could no longer resist.
In the Comte de Guichet, Louise was accustomed to seeing a good friend, since she knew that he was a friend of the Viscount, and she was accustomed to treating the Viscount as that kind and bright person who must always be present in life simply for the reason that it was and is, therefore, it must continue to remain as an integral property of life and Nature. This is how a child perceives sunlight and warmth without thinking about the reasons for this grace.
“Mademoiselle, good afternoon, I was looking for you,” said de Guiche.
“I’m glad to see you, Count,” Louise answered with a bow. “I hope you brought me good news from my good friends?”
“I’m afraid that the news I brought cannot be called good, madam, however, I brought you a letter and am obliged to hand it over,” the count replied, taking the Viscount’s letter from his pocket and handing it to Louise.
-What are you saying? - Mademoiselle cried in horror, snatching the letter and hastily opening it. — The Viscount died?
“Alas, yes, mademoiselle,” answered the count. “You need time to read the letter, let me go.”
- Wait, Count! Tell me how it was? - said Louise, not hiding her sorrowful feelings.
“I can only say that the Viscount was a real hero.” He showed miracles of courage, and his forays cost the Turks considerable losses, however, an evil fate took him away from us during one of these forays, in which I also participated. In the heat of battle, I only saw how bravely he fought, and how a huge explosion knocked him off his feet, as a result of which he fell into the trench, where the defeated enemy cannon also rolled down. Subsequent sorties confirmed that the Viscount had been crushed by the same cannon that I had seen roll down there. We did not try to recapture the corpses of our soldiers, since at that time there was almost no ammunition left in the fortress. Subsequently, the Turks raised this cannon, they buried both their dead and ours. The captured Turks told me that they bury Christians according to Christian customs, since there are also Christians in their troops. Therefore, although the Viscount was properly buried, the location of his grave is unknown to me.
- This is terrible, Count! - Louise exclaimed, shedding tears.
“Officers like the Viscount, madam, are always ready to die in the name of the Motherland,” de Guiche said coldly. “And losing your life is sometimes not as scary as losing faith in love, believe me.”
- Count, you are cruel to me! - Louise exclaimed.
“No more than you would to the viscount, mademoiselle,” de Guiche answered with a bow and left.
With a breaking heart, Louise unfolded the Viscount's letter and read it, shedding tears.

“Mademoiselle, if you are reading this letter, it means that the Comte de Guiche has returned alive from that military campaign, which, I believe, will be my last. In this case, I thank the Almighty for his decision. I wish you happiness and forgive you all the sorrows that you, without knowing it, have caused to my heart. I saw no other way to calm my soul than the one I chose. I bless you. We'll meet in another world. Raoul."

- Louise! Where have you been? - Ora de Montale exclaimed, running up to her friend and grabbing her hand. - Ugh! I barely found you! Let's go, the King told me to find you and bring you to him!
“Oh no, not now,” Louise said and, covering her face with her hands, rushed in the direction opposite to where her friend was trying to take her.
- Stupid! - Ora said, shrugging her shoulders. - Anyone else in her place would...
But what exactly any other Mademoiselle de La Valli;re would have done in her place, we, dear readers, will never know, since Mademoiselle Ora de Montale did not take the trouble to finish her sentence.

LXXIV. Planchet

As soon as d'Artagnan and Philippe entered Planchet's establishment, the owner came out to meet them with open arms.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan, you have returned! I hope your venture ended successfully?
“I hope so too, buddy, but it’s too early to draw conclusions.” Monsignor, in this place nothing threatens us, from here we can continue our journey in the very near future. And Master Planchet,” with these words the captain made a corresponding gesture towards his former servant, and from some also his commercial partner, “will be happy to satisfy all your needs for this time.” Planchet, monsignor needs rest.
“My best rooms are at the service of Your Highness,” replied Planchet calmly and with dignity, who, having known d’Artagnan for many years, would not have shown surprise even if even the Pope himself had come to his house with him.
- What do they hear in Paris about me, Planchet? - asked d'Artagnan after Philip left in order to finally remove his beard, which was pretty boring to him, and give the skin of his face at least a little rest.
- Absolutely nothing. Paris is mute! - Planchet replied.
- So, I’m still the captain of the royal musketeers? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“In any case, I have not heard about the appointment of anyone else to this position,” replied Planchet, “and if such an appointment had taken place, rest assured, I would have known about it!” Yes, however, Francois returned before you, as you apparently know, and went to find out through his own channels what and how.
“Well, let’s wait for Francois,” the captain nodded and headed to the room that he had considered his own for many years.
“I recommend that you visit Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, Mister Captain,” Planchet said after him.
- What did you say, my dear? - asked d'Artagnan, delving into the deep meaning of the phrase spoken by Planchet. - Repeat that word you just said!
“I suggested that you pay a visit to M. Raoult’s fianc;e, captain,” Planchet repeated.
- No, buddy! You said another word! You said "visit", didn't you?
“I didn’t mean anything bad,” Planchet replied.
- Planchet, you are a genius! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Just “visit”! Do you know what this word means?
“As far as I know, this means visiting someone, sir,” Planchet said in confusion.
- In this case it means rendez - vous without witnesses, dear Planchet! After all, this is exactly what we need! - the captain was delighted. - I'm a fool, Planchet! How did this not occur to me before! And Aramis too, a good conspirator! Construct a whole system of secret mechanisms just to brew a dish that, even without your efforts, is ready and waiting only for you to come up, blow off the foam and swallow it in one fell swoop! Well done, Planchet!
“If the captain wants foamy coffee, I will have it brought to your room.” Perhaps your travel companion also wants to get his coffee?
- He wishes, Planchet! As much as he wishes! Bring coffee, cookies and whatever else you have here! - D'Artagnan exclaimed enthusiastically.
- Damn it, rendez - vous! A date that even the King goes on without security, secretly and without witnesses! What a fool I am! - d'Artagnan said to himself, climbing the stairs to the room, where ten minutes later Planchet brought a magnificent mug of foamy coffee and a saucer filled with cookies, candied fruits and candied nuts.

LXXV. Francois

That evening, d'Artagnan spoke with Francois, who had returned from his reconnaissance forays.
“Captain, they are undoubtedly looking for you, but they are doing it secretly,” he said. “I was stopped six times by various guardsmen and carefully peered into my face. Obviously, my age contrasted too much with the description they had, so no one detained me, but if you had been in my place, captain, I believe the meeting might have ended differently.
- I expected this, my friend! - D'Artagnan nodded. - This doesn’t surprise me. Tell me, my friend, what is your opinion, do my musketeers know that Colbert's spies are looking for me?
“I can’t say anything definite on this topic, captain, but some of the nobles clearly don’t suspect anything like that.” “Once a certain nobleman called out to me, deciding that I was you,” answered Francois.
- Describe it to me! - D'Artagnan exclaimed with liveliness.
“His chin slopes down a little, and besides...” Fran;ois began.
— The eyes seem to be smiling, while the lower half of the face, on the contrary, expresses sadness? - D'Artagnan picked up.
“That’s right, captain,” Francois smiled.
- De Guiche! That's what we need! - said d'Artagnan. — It remains to think through a few details, and the plan is ready!
“It’s nice to see you in such a mood, captain,” said Fran;ois with a smile.
- How nice it is for me to see myself in such a mood, Francois! - D'Artagnan laughed. “I haven’t seen myself in such a good mood for a long time!” Go ahead, buddy, thank you, I need to think.

Towards evening, d'Artagnan outlined his plan to Philippe and Francois.
“Listen, Francois, I think you’ve already guessed the business I’m up to,” he said.
“In general terms,” answered Fran;ois.
“In that case, monsignor, I ask you, take off this terrible beard and wig,” said the captain.
“With pleasure,” Philip answered and got rid of his makeup.
Fran;ois looked at Philippe in surprise, then got down on one knee and kissed his hand.
“I understand you, gentlemen, and I accept your plan,” he said humbly.
- Wonderful young man! - exclaimed the captain.
“ You’re repeating yourself, captain,” Philip smiled.
- Then let's get down to business! - D'Artagnan agreed. - This is the plan. I'm going to de Guiche. Follow me at such a distance so as not to lose sight of me, but so as not to catch the eye of the count. Today our fate will be decided.
- Do we need weapons, captain? - asked Francois.
“I ask you, Francois, to take with you the item that we brought from our trip.” As for you, Monsignor, I would ask you to take this bottle, as well as a large handkerchief and a strong rope. Regarding weapons, I will only say that they may be needed only to drive away unnecessary fellow travelers if they arise.
 
LXXVI. De Guiche

The Count de Guiche sat, bored, in the de Gramont family castle. In front of him lay a miniature portrait of Princess Henrietta.
- Twitchy! - the count said with contempt. - What did I find in her? Just that the King likes her so much? Do I really want to defeat the King in this competition?
He looked at the portrait for the umpteenth time, finding that even with the surprisingly accurate resemblance, it did not convey even a tenth of the charm that the princess radiated.
- However, the King had long since cooled off towards her, and became interested in this provincial lame God knows for what reasons! - de Guiche sighed. - And what do they find in it? First - Raoul, then also the King? An ordinary village simpleton, completely delighted with the false luxury of the court, unable to distinguish the true diamonds of the soul of real heroes from the cheap glass of arrogant proud people. A fool who prefers a dressed-up peacock to a noble falcon! And at the same time soulless, exactly like this one... - with these words de Guiche cast a glance full of despair at the portrait of Princess Henrietta.
“Count, captain of the royal musketeers, Count d’Artagnan, asks to receive him,” the footman reported, holding the captain’s business card on a tray.
- Is the captain here? - exclaimed de Guiche. - Of course, ask him!
With these words, the count put the miniature in the drawer and, looking in the mirror, slightly straightened his curls and smoothed his collar.
“Forgive me for the late visit, Count,” said d’Artagnan, entering de Guiche’s room.
- What ceremonies, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - exclaimed de Guiche. - For you, I’m just Arman, you’re welcome to contact me at any time!
“Thank you, Count, I have a small request for you,” the captain bowed.
- Yes, at least with ten! “I’m listening to you,” replied de Guiche.
“I have one letter left from a young man, which I must give to a certain mademoiselle,” d’Artagnan said softly. “Meanwhile, it is highly undesirable for me to appear at court due to some misunderstanding between me and His Majesty, which I hope will soon be forgotten, but at the present time this misunderstanding makes my appearance at court extremely risky.” However, the letter I am talking about is of such a nature that I do not find it possible to transmit it through third parties.
“You are talking about another letter from the Viscount de Bragelonne to Mademoiselle Louise de La Valli;re,” de Guiche guessed. - It's useless. You can’t return the Viscount, but appeal to the feelings of Mademoiselle, who exchanged...
“You are a thousand times right, dear Count,” agreed d’Artagnan. “I do not expect any changes in Mademoiselle’s actions under the influence of this letter, besides, now it no longer matters, however, I am bound by a promise, so I must hurry, while the circumstances of misunderstanding do not allow me to carry out this order in a timely manner.” the deadlines that the sender of this letter set for me.
“I understand very much, Count, and I am very ready to serve and contribute to the solution of your question,” answered de Guiche. - However, how can I help? I could, of course, deliver the letter, but you say that you would like to personally...
- Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with my desire, Count. I am bound by a promise. - answered the captain.
“So, you need to see Mademoiselle de La Valli;re without anyone knowing about it except her,” de Guiche concluded. - I think I have found such a remedy. You see, the King sometimes visits Mademoiselle for such a delicate purpose that he would not like to have any of his friends or any of the guards as witnesses to such meetings.
“I understand,” the captain agreed.
“A definite schedule has been established for this case,” continued de Guiche. “At the hour when His Majesty may decide to pay such a visit, there should be no strangers along the entire path to Mademoiselle, and through the efforts of special persons this condition is ensured every day.
“Thus, if I understand you correctly,” said d’Artagnan, “there is a certain specific hour when you can get to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re without witnesses.” But at this hour she has a guest, a meeting with whom is not included in my plans in any way! What should I do?
“You should use the day when mademoiselle has reasons to refuse the King a meeting,” replied de Guiche.
- How can we predict such a day and hour? - asked d'Artagnan.
“Perhaps I can,” said the count. “I believe that today will be just such a day and such an hour.” You see, the fact is that I already gave a letter like the one you are talking about to Mademoiselle this afternoon. With all the shortcomings that I find in this mademoiselle, she is not so insensitive as to treat such a letter with complete indifference. I believe that this evening she will refuse the King a meeting.
“So, I have the opportunity to complete the last part of my mission today?” - asked the captain.
“It’s worth hastening with this, Monsieur d’Artagnan, since the necessary hour is about to come,” replied de Guiche. - Wait for me in the reception hall, we’ll be leaving in ten minutes.
“I’ll wait for you at the exit of your palace, Count,” the captain answered and bowed and left.

LXXVII. Louis

This evening the King was not in a good mood. The princess flirted with her husband, Monsieur, Duke of Orleans. It was humiliating to be jealous of his younger brother, but the King, who had long lost interest in Henrietta’s charms, still believed that he had more rights to her attention than even her own husband.
He looked around at the ladies-in-waiting of his wife and the ladies-in-waiting of the Princess, but did not find any mystery or novelty in any of them. Having noted the accessibility of each of them, he almost lost interest in them. Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, who continues to be formally listed as the Princess's maid of honor, was relieved of the duties assigned to her by this position, since the King assigned her completely different duties, which none of the ladies-in-waiting of the court would shy away from. The inept and weak resistance that Louise occasionally offered to the King only fueled his passion and made his victories more significant, at least in his own eyes. Therefore, as soon as dinner was over, the King hurried along the path on which he did not expect to meet any rivals, witnesses, guards, or any other obstacles of any kind, gender or rank. He was separated from Louise's chambers only by a door, which, to the King's great regret, still had an internal bolt that could not be opened from the outside.
- Louise, it’s me, open up! - the King said clearly, after knocking on the door three times with his diamond-topped cane.
“Your Majesty, I beg you, leave me alone today,” Louise replied. “I want to dedicate this evening to grief for those who, by the will of the Lord, did not live to see it.”
- What's happened? - the King was indignant. - Would you like to open it? Do you have any guest?
- What are you saying? - Louise exclaimed, opening the doors. - Come in and see that I’m completely alone! But I beg you to leave me for today. I’m not feeling well, I’m in a sad mood, I want to indulge in sad memories, so my company will only make Your Majesty sad.
“Okay,” said the King, reassured by the fact that there really was no one in Louise’s room. - Indulge in sadness, I’ll just sit here on the chair and look at you while you’re sad. You can't stop me from doing this.
“I cannot forbid you this, Your Majesty, just as I cannot forbid you anything at all,” Louise answered with a bow, “however, I do not advise you to indulge in my sadness with me, the reasons for which you do not know, and therefore you cannot share it with me.
- So you have secrets from me, mademoiselle? - the King asked arrogantly.
“Believe me, these secrets are not from you, but from me,” Louise exclaimed passionately. “Sometimes it’s so difficult for me to understand myself that I don’t know what I’m saying or what I’m doing.”
“Well, it seems that you really are not in the mood today,” the King said coldly, who was offended that Louise still wanted to sort out her feelings, which meant that she was still not sure that she loved the King more than all the men in the world.
“I will pray for you, Your Majesty,” said Louise, kissing the King’s hand again.
- Prayers, mademoiselle, this is not at all what I would like to receive from you! - he snapped coldly. “Thank the Lord, my situation is not such that I should ask God for any more benefits.” And even less is this required of you, mademoiselle. Everything I need, you could give me without resorting to divine help!
With these words, the King turned sharply and left Mademoiselle de La Valli;re.
“No one can know what fate has in store for him,” said Louise and bolted the door.

- Damn this saint! - exclaimed the King, walking through the dark alleys of the park. “She loves her fears and prejudices more than me!” At the very hour when I would like to spend time with her, it occurs to her to organize an evening of sobs and prayers, and this is not the first time. I have been putting up with her whims for too long!
With these words, he raised his cane to knock down a beautiful bud of a white rose, exuding the sweetest aroma, and suddenly he felt that someone grabbed him by the arms and shoulders. He wanted to scream, but a handkerchief soaked in some sharp-smelling liquid was pressed tightly to his face. Louis tried to draw air into his lungs, but instead of air, the disgusting aroma of this liquid penetrated into him, he felt dizzy, the twilight park floated in front of him eyes, after which the King lost consciousness and fell into the arms of those who grabbed him.
D'Artagnan quickly undid the buttons on the King's doublet, took it off and threw it to Philip.
- Put it on, monsignor! - he exclaimed.
While the prince was pulling on his doublet, the captain also pulled off the King's shoes and trousers.
- Put this on too, pick up a cane and be with God! - he said.
- Captain, I'm waiting for you at the Louvre! - said Philip.
- Of course, Your Majesty! - answered d'Artagnan, putting an iron mask on Louis.
“We should put the monsignor’s clothes on him,” said Fran;ois.
“Leave it alone,” the captain waved him off. “In these clothes and the mask, he looks more like an escaped madman.” Take the prince's clothes with you so as not to leave traces.

LXXVIII. Philip

Having walked along a path left unattended for the purpose of the King's secret trips to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, Philip entered the Louvre at a pace as if he had been walking this path every day for several years.
Judging by his somewhat swift gait, the courtiers guessed that the King was not quite in good spirits and guessed that the reason for this was probably Louise’s yet another refusal to have a tender meeting, which happened to her quite often.
De Saint-Etian, who appeared right there, asked what His Majesty would like to do to amuse himself that evening.
- Your Majesty deigns to play Ombre? Or wants to visit the Queen's ladies-in-waiting?
- Ombre, perhaps! - Philip answered.
“As Your Majesty wishes,” de Saint-Etian bowed.
— By the way, where did Colbert go? - the King suddenly said. “I haven’t seen him for two days, yet I need him.”
“I’ll have him found and sent to Your Majesty,” replied de Saint-Etian.
“ Yes, dear Saint-Etienne, do it,” Philippe nodded. — I have to give him some instructions.

After some time, the doors of the King’s office opened and the secretary appeared.
“Monsieur Colbert, Your Majesty, asks to receive him,” he said.
“Ask,” Philip answered.
The next moment Colbert entered the office and bowed to the King.
“Monsieur Colbert,” said Philippe. - I am pleased with your work, however, I would like to make a few comments to you.
“I’m listening to you, Your Majesty,” Colbert answered with a bow.
“As you know, I decided to do without the first minister, following the advice of Cardinal Mazarin,” Philip began. - This does not mean that my government will not have a head. You will perform the same functions that you performed previously, with some amendments.
Colbert bowed and took pen and paper to record the King's words.
“Sit down, Mr. Colbert, it’s much more convenient to write at the table,” Philip nodded. - So, while maintaining your position as Minister of Finance, you will also have the right to control taxes, loans, customs duties, customs tariffs, and colonial policy. In addition, I will need your help in preparing the military and naval budget. You will have a lot to do, Mr. Colbert. Don’t be distracted by petty intrigues with those who do their job conscientiously and successfully. I relieve you of assignments regarding military policy and military affairs. Marshal de Vauban will do this. I appoint Mr. Letelier as Minister of War. Monsieur de Lyon will be entrusted with the leadership of diplomacy. I appoint Monsieur de Louvois as Secretary of Military Affairs. Have you recorded it?
“I wrote it down, Your Majesty,” Colbert bowed.
- And find Monsieur d'Artagnan, Colbert, do you hear?! - Philip exclaimed.
“We are looking for him all over France, Your Majesty, but we cannot find him,” Colbert replied.
- This is because you are not looking for him, but hunting for him, Mr. Colbert! - Philip objected. “I don’t ask you to catch him and imprison him in the Bastille, I demand that you find him and invite him to take the position that is assigned to him.” I understand that he is annoyed that every action he takes to carry out my orders is controlled by your numerous spies. Anyone would be furious at such control. Moreover, taking into account his Gascon blood... Agree that M. d'Artagnan, with all his shortcomings, which you constantly tell me about, also has a number of undoubted advantages.
“Your Majesty is certainly right,” Colbert replied. - “Find and invite”, recorded.
- And finally take care of finances! - Philip added.

That same evening, Monsieur Colbert went to Planchet's establishment.
“Listen, Planchet, I have to ask you one question,” he said.
“If you want to know where Monsieur d’Artagnan is, then I cannot answer this question, although he was once my master, and we have common trade affairs, but Monsieur Captain does not consider it necessary to report to me about his goals and location.” of his travels,” Planchet hastened to answer.
“I don’t want to look for Mister Captain,” Colbert replied. “I only want you to convey to him, on behalf of the King, an invitation to finally take up those matters that he must do as a result of his position as captain of the royal musketeers.” For almost a month now, these functions have been performed for him by his deputy, Mr. d'Arlencourt! For what, in this case, does Monsieur d'Artagnan receive his salary?
- And you continue to charge it, Mr. Colbert! - exclaimed d'Artagnan, who at that moment appeared on the stairs leading to the second floor to his permanent room. “I have something to justify myself to His Majesty.”
“In that case, Monsieur d’Artagnan, I’m waiting for you tomorrow in His Majesty’s office with your excuses,” Colbert snapped dryly. - I have the honor to take my leave.
After these words, he got up and left Planchet's establishment.

LXXIX. State criminal

The next morning, d'Artagnan, as if nothing had happened, appeared at the Louvre, and arrived there in his carriage, which he almost never used.
“Report me to the King,” he told the secretary.
“Let him come in,” said Philip, having heard from the secretary about the arrival of the captain of the musketeers.
In the King's office, d'Artagnan saw Colbert, who, wiping sweat, was writing something in his notebooks.
“Let’s take a break from state affairs for a minute, Mister Colbert, and listen to Mister Captain,” said Philip. - So, captain, where have you been?
“I was catching a state criminal, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan.
- A state criminal, that’s how it is? - asked Philip. - Who are we talking about?
“A month ago, Your Majesty, you named me four state criminals whom I had to catch, or provide you with evidence of their death if they were not alive,” answered the captain. “In relation to three of this list, I have presented to you irrefutable documentary evidence of their death. There was only one person left, the Bishop of Vannes.
“Do you mean to say that you captured him, Monsieur d’Artagnan?” - asked Philip.
“He is in my carriage, tied up, under reliable guard, the carriage is standing at the gates of the Louvre,” answered the captain.
“Why didn’t you take him to the Bastille?” - asked Philip.
“I was specifically pointed out the need to prevent the said state criminal from communicating with anyone, giving any signs or having any other communication with anyone. This criminal is tied up, has an iron mask on his face and is guarded by a reliable person.
“Well, I want to take a look at it,” said Philip.
Colbert stood up from his chair and prepared to walk with the King, to which Philip calmly replied:
- Mister Colbert, follow me at a distance of at least thirty meters. I wish to speak with him one on one without witnesses. Let's go, Mister Captain.
After this, Philippe and d'Artagnan left the office and proceeded to d'Artagnan's carriage.
The captain opened the door of the carriage in which Louis sat, bound hand and foot, wearing an iron mask and gagged.
Francois modestly got out of the carriage and walked away to a respectful distance.
“Listen to me, my brother,” said Philip, after which Louis shuddered and looked at Philip with surprise and longing.
“My brother, you are not to blame for what our parents did to me,” Philip continued sadly. “That’s why I forgive you my decades of imprisonment in the Bastille.” But you are guilty of throwing me back to the Bastille, and then to Pignerol, knowing that I am your brother, who has the same rights to the throne as you. You have neglected my rights to a happy and free life, forcing me to lead the life of an unfortunate prisoner, forgotten by everyone and not having the slightest chance for even simple human happiness. Having every opportunity to send me at least to another country, into exile, anywhere, but not to prison, you still preferred to imprison me in a fortress as the most banal criminal, which I still am not. I have already served my sentence without guilt, so I am not embarrassed by guilt in front of you without punishment for it. I submit you to the fate that you deliberately prepared for me after you became aware of my existence. You did not forgive those people who served you faithfully, only because they retained feelings of friendship, duty and justice, and did not completely submit to you in everything, refusing to betray such concepts as friendship, honor and love. With such views of human values, you could not be a good King for such a great power as France is, and as I hope it will remain under my reign. Perhaps after a while you will understand me, and forgive me, and accept your fate. In this case, I promise that I will not leave you without my help and support. I will allow you to live the life of a free and honest person when it becomes possible. Now I want you to experience for yourself the cruel fate that they prepared for me, into which they plunged me without any fault on my part, since one cannot blame a person simply for wanting to return to himself the freedom that was taken away from him without any grounds, they were taken away vilely and secretly, trampling all laws, human and divine. I served my sentence without guilt, only for being born who I am. You will be punished for your guilt before me. It won't last forever, but don't expect it to be short. Goodbye.

After these words, Philip closed the carriage door and indicated to Francois that he could take his place as a guard in it.
- Mister Colbert, come here! - said Philip, raising his voice.
Colbert immediately ran to Philippe.
Philip took the folder with papers from Colbert's hands and pulled out a blank sheet of paper. Colbert exposed his back, forming it into a kind of tabletop, after which Philip wrote the following text.

"The King's Order

To the Captain of the Royal Musketeers, Count d'Artagnan
Return the prisoner Marchiali to the Pignerol fortress and hand him over to the commandant of the fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, under personal responsibility.
In relation to the prisoner, comply with all previously prescribed measures, namely:
1. Wear an iron mask in all cases of contact with any people who come into contact with him to provide him with food, drink, clothing, and other needs.
2. Not to enter into any communication with anyone, including not to talk, not to correspond, not to give any signs, and not to exchange information in any other way.
Prisoner Marchiali is allowed to read and is allowed to remove his mask when he is alone and all contact with other persons is excluded, including contact through the windows of the fortress.

Signed: King Louis XIV of France »

After this, Philippe folded the order like an envelope, not giving Colbert the opportunity to read it, and in a sweeping hand wrote “Order of the King” on its front side, after which he again put the same signature.
He casually showed this part of the document to Colbert, who only bowed respectfully and accepted the writing instruments from Philip’s hands.

- Mr. Captain! I apologize for sending you on such a long and distant journey, but believe me, I can only entrust this important mission to you alone! - said Philip. - Let's go, Colbert, we have not yet finished all the business of governing the state for today.

D'Artagnan unwrapped the envelope and looked carefully at the letter.

“One hand! - he thought. “I would never have distinguished this King’s handwriting from that one!”

Reading Philip's order as he walked, d'Artagnan did not notice that he had almost knocked down one of the guardsmen, who at that moment was in a hurry to climb the steps of the Louvre.
- Sorry, buddy! - he said mechanically and got into the carriage, where Francois and the tied-up Louis were already waiting for him.

- Nothing, nothing! Happens! - the guardsman answered and continued his way along the steps of the Louvre.
- De Trabuson! Where have you been, buddy? - one of the senior guard officers standing on the same steps shouted to him. - I haven’t seen you for a long time!
- Ah, Mister d'Elsorte! “I am glad to welcome you, and glad to see you in good health,” replied de Trabuson. —I went on some business. Sorry, Mr. Senior Lieutenant, I'm in a hurry.
With these words, de Trabuson continued on his way. Having learned when Mr. Colbert was expected to be free, he went back out and leisurely headed towards his house.

LXXX. Trabuson's career

In the evening of the same day, Monsieur Colbert received du Trabuson.
“I know your exploits, du Trabuson,” said Colbert. - Forgive me for my forgetfulness. For the fact that you brought the Bishop of Vannes to me, I paid you only with money.
“The amount is quite sufficient, Monsieur Colbert,” replied du Trabuson.
“For you, perhaps, yes, but for me, no.” I’m going to continue to use your services, so get this,” with these words Colbert gave du Trabuson an envelope.
Opening the envelope, du Trabuson took out a patent for the position of lieutenant of the royal guard.
- Oh, monsignor! Very grateful! - exclaimed du Trabuson.
“Don’t rush to thank me, because I’ll take it away from you now,” Colbert replied. - Let's come here!
Uncomprehending, du Trabuson returned the envelope with the patent to Colbert.
The Finance Quartermaster resolutely tore the envelope and threw it into the trash.
“Knowing about your other exploits, I forwarded the document,” he said. - Here, take this.
With these words, he gave the would-be lieutenant another identical envelope. Having opened it, du Trabuson extracted from it a patent for the rank of senior lieutenant of the royal guard.
- Thank you, monsignor! - exclaimed du Trabuson with even greater enthusiasm.
“No big deal, I’ll tear up this document now,” Colbert smiled.
- Do you have something better for me? - Du Trabuson smiled slyly, who realized the rules of the game and got a taste for it, so he quite carefree parted with the second patent, which Colbert also tore up.
“This is the last patent for today, Monsieur du Trabuson,” said Colbert, handing over the third envelope, “so be careful with it.”
In the third envelope, the would-be senior lieutenant discovered a patent for the rank of captain of the royal guard.
- Thank you, monsignor! This is everything I could have dreamed of! - exclaimed du Trabuson, clutching the patent to his chest.
“It’s unfortunate, captain, that your dreams don’t go as far as my plans for you,” Colbert said dryly. - In that case, you can be free.
- Your Mightiness! - exclaimed du Trabuson. - I will not let you down! Any orders that Your Lordship deems necessary to give me will be executed immediately and to the letter!
“Well, captain, in that case, sit down and listen to me very carefully,” said Colbert. “Monsieur Captain of the Royal Musketeers, the Comte d'Artagnan, known to you, must take the prisoner of the Bishop of Vannes, that is, Monsieur d'Herblay, one of his best friends, and, apparently, the last survivor, to the fortress of Pignerol. Do you understand me well, Monsieur Captain du Trabucon?
“I’m listening to you carefully and I understand what you’re talking about,” replied du Trabuson.
“I don’t believe all this,” Colbert said with apparent calm, although the veins of his cheekbones tensed so much several times that one could conclude that there was a mental storm going on in his chest. “The damned Gascon is deceiving me, I can still understand that, but he is also deceiving the King!” But I have to figure out his game. Either the person he arrested is not Monsieur d'Herblay, or the person he is taking to the fortress will be released by him at the first opportunity, or maybe both.
“I will find out and report to Your Lordship,” replied du Trabuson.
- What good is your reports to me, pray tell! Don't answer, it was a rhetorical question. So, if d'Artagnan releases this man, you will kill both of them and report to me the result. If d'Artagnan delivers this man to Pignerol and surrenders him to the custody of the commandant of the fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, you will free this man and bring him to me, here. I will prepare an order for you to this effect signed by the King. Yes, don’t be surprised, the King will sign my order, even if he doesn’t know what’s in it, he’s already done this more than once. Do you understand everything, Du Trabuson?
- Everything is completely clear, monsignor! replied du Trabuson.
“Apparently, I was hasty in promoting you to captain,” Colbert said with annoyance. - Why don’t you ask me what to do in case of the third scenario?
- Third option? asked Du Trabuson. - What is the third option?
- Think, du Trabuson, don’t disappoint me! After all, you are the captain of the guards, aren’t you? So, the first option is to release him, the second option is to put him in custody. What's the third option?
- Kill? - Du Trabuson guessed.
“ You play the fool very skillfully, Monsieur du Trabuson, but at the present time something else is required of you.” If d'Artagnan had intended to kill his prisoner, he could have done it last night or this morning. Besides, as far as I know, these students of de Treville do not kill unarmed people. No, that's not it. Can't you guess about the third possibility?
“Forgive me, monsignor, but I can’t understand what can be done with a person if you don’t kill, don’t let him go, and don’t put him in prison?” - du Trabuson allowed himself to ask a question, himself frightened by his insolence and slow-wittedness.
- You can make an agreement with him. You can go abroad together with him. It can be armed and directed against a common enemy. Have you thought about such possibilities, Captain du Trabuson? “Colbert hissed these words almost in the face of the newly made captain with such fury that du Trabuson decided that his last patent would now be taken away from him and torn, and not without reason.
“Your Grace named three more possibilities,” du Trabuson only muttered.
“It’s all the same thing, because watching from the outside you won’t be able to distinguish one from the other,” Colbert said with tired irritation. - If these two go together somewhere other than the prescribed place, this will mean a third opportunity. Lord, your will! Why are there so many idiots in our army who cannot construct the simplest logical chain?
“Army officers are not trained to construct logical chains,” thought du Trabuson. “They are only required to carry out the orders of their superior officers, giving orders to lower officers and soldiers for this purpose.” He was smart enough not to say it out loud.
“If these two go somewhere other than the place where the prisoner is ordered to be placed, you will try to find out their intentions and prevent them, whatever they may be.” Just don’t bring the situation to a point where you can no longer kill them both. As soon as you feel that they have the slightest opportunity to sneak away from you, finish with them. Even if you finish them both off just outside the gates of Paris, I will not be too angry with you, but if you miss them, you will be sent to serve as a common soldier in a penal company. However, if you do more for me than just kill these two, you can become a major. This is something more: to fully understand d'Artagnan's plans, and not only to prevent their implementation, but also to expose his criminal nature before the King. In the event that he releases Monsieur d'Herblay, you can kill both of them, but if in addition you bring proof of his act, you will be a major. In the event that he leaves his prisoner in the fortress, you are not allowed to kill d'Artagnan, unless ... - Colbert hesitated. — Unless a random stray bullet does it for you. But in this case, the most important thing that will be required of you is to bring the said prisoner to me, safe and sound, but bound hand and foot, gagged and with a bag on his head. In that case, you will be a major. No, in that case you will be a colonel. Tomorrow morning come for a letter to Saint-Mars, you will easily catch up with d'Artagnan, since he is riding in his carriage, and he will not abandon his own carriage. In addition, Messrs. d'Elsorte and de Lortie are given your assistance.
— Senior Lieutenant D'Elsorte? asked Du Trabuson.
- What's the problem? After all, you are now a captain! Colbert recalled.
- Yes, Your Grace! May I go, monsignor?
“Go, go,” Colbert replied.
When du Trabuson closed the doors of Colbert's office, the last remark of the owner of the office reached his ears.
- Blockhead! - said Colbert, unable to restrain himself and thus throwing out his anger at the fact that something was happening around him that was not entirely clear to him.
“Well,” thought du Tremblay. “The jump from junior lieutenant to captain in one day is worth being called a fool behind your back.” In my absence, he can call me names as much as he wants! - then, after thinking for a while, he mentally added, “in my absence, he can even beat me!”

LXXXI. D'Artagnan's experience

- Mister d'Artagnan, you succeeded! - Francois exclaimed, not paying attention to the presence of the King in the carriage.
- What exactly happened? - D'Artagnan asked gloomily.
- Replace the King, make a coup that no one knows about, save your friends, you succeeded in everything you planned! - Francois continued enthusiastically.
“Listen, Francois, sometimes you seem to me like a good guy, you seem to be savvy, brave, dexterous...” d’Artagnan said sadly. “Sometimes it seems to me that you’re just... Let’s just say, not experienced enough, naive.” In a word, I would not want to have such a son.
“Excuse me, captain, it seems to me that you wanted to call me a donkey,” Francois objected. - I have nothing against if you tell me the reasons for such an assessment of my mental abilities. If you did it just to have fun at my expense, then with all due respect...
“Sorry, son, I didn’t mean to insult you,” d’Artagnan said reluctantly. “And you know, this is the second time in my life that I apologize against my will, and the first time that I do this in order to avoid a duel.” I wouldn't like to kill you.
“Apology accepted, captain, but I will be the first to apologize to you, so that we can be even if you explain exactly what my mistake was,” said Francois.
“It won’t work that way,” the captain laughed. - First you will apologize so that we can be even, and then I will explain what your mistake was. Is it coming?
“Forgive me, Monsieur d'Artagnan, I simply do not have enough experience to correctly assess the situation,” Francois said calmly.
“Damn me, you’re forgiven, of course, but it seems to me that you’re not a Gascon at all!” At your age, I would never have admitted that I was wrong as easily as you did! - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“I’m a Gascon, of course, it’s just that my mother raised me so that I wouldn’t be like my father.” She tried really hard. She probably succeeded in some way. Therefore, I am somewhat different from ordinary Gascons,” said Francois and smiled modestly.
“If your mother didn’t like your father, why the hell did she marry him?” - the captain was surprised. “Besides, how can a woman born in Gascony not like the Gascon character?” Or was she a visiting thing?
“I propose to discuss my family after you explain to me the reasons for your assessment of the situation, and, accordingly, conclusions about my ... insufficient experience,” Francois objected.
“Well, the plan is accepted,” agreed d’Artagnan. - So, I will state my understanding of the situation, and you ask questions if something is unclear to you. Sir, join our discussion and finally remove this disgrace!
With these words, d'Artagnan took off the King's iron mask and contemptuously threw it on the seat opposite.
- Forgive me, Your Majesty, for not taking this pear out of your supreme mouth, which is preventing you from communicating with us fully, but, believe me, this is for reasons of your own safety.
The king muttered something displeased, to which d'Artagnan calmly replied:
— We will also discuss this issue, but a little later.
After that, turning to Francois, but not forgetting for a moment that Louis was hearing their conversation, d'Artagnan began to reason out loud.
“ Imagine, young man, that I was exactly like you, a young and proud, but poor Gascon who came to conquer Paris.” The only thing I had was ambition and pride, some skill with a sword and some horse riding skills. Of course, it seemed to me that I was magnificent as a soldier and impeccable as a man. I conquered Paris by trying to serve the wrong people, at the wrong time, and in the wrong way. I served my Queen Anne, defending her honor from the attacks of Cardinal Richelieu and from the jealousy of her husband, King Louis XIII . For the sake of these, as it seemed to me, holy goals, I sometimes allowed myself to stab one or two of the cardinal’s guards, who, in essence, were the same young and ambitious soldiers as I was at that time. Why did I do this? It seemed to me that my actions were the only right ones. If Queen Anne's honor demanded it, I was ready to die for her. And where are these ideals now? The queen, who refused simple friendship to the great Cardinal Richelieu, entered into a morganatic marriage with a pitiful shadow of this man, with Cardinal Mazarin. Then I served Cardinal Mazarin, who put me in prison for this. Porthos and I managed to get out of it only because his strength was enough to break several iron bars in the window bars, and my cunning was enough to track down where Mazarin was hiding his treasures. To regain our freedom we had to blackmail the cardinal. Afraid of losing his money, the cardinal chose to release me, Baron du Valon, and Comte de La F;re. And do you know what's eating me? After all, I fought against Richelieu, considering him unworthy of my serving him, and when he died, I suddenly learned that it was he who was the France that I loved and for which I fought, since the glorious King Louis XIII obeyed the cardinal in everything , and when the cardinal died, the King survived him by only six months and ten days! I served Mazarin, and he put me and my friends in prison, and when I began to fight him, I received freedom and even some financial independence. I despised this second cardinal, comparing him with the first, but he kept his promise to leave me alone until his death! It was possible to deal with these nobles, but I did not notice it! And now this young King. I knew him from a young age. I protected him as best I could from all the troubles that I could foresee and which I could resist. When the rebels of the Fronde wanted to look at the King to make sure that he had not left Paris, I stood behind the curtain behind his bed with a sword in my hand, ready to pierce anyone who encroached on my King, Louis XIV . And now this same King announces to me that everyone I love and value in this world, all my three comrades, with whom we went through fire and water, serving his father, his mother and himself, must be killed, Moreover, they were killed by me, his captain of the royal musketeers. For this meanness I was offered a marshal's baton. Have thirty-five years of impeccable service really allowed me to be judged as Judas, who is ready to sell his friends for material wealth, for titles and positions at court? What have I been doing all this time if I created such a vile impression of myself? And here I am, Charles d'Artagnan, torn between the duty of friendship and the duty of loyal obedience, trying to combine both, but I am haunted by some inexorable fate that nullifies all my attempts, on the one hand, to protect my friends from the King, on the other hand, to protect the King from some of my friends. All my wonderful plans fail miserably, and I find myself in the Bastille, where my King, my idol, who was like a son to me in age, and like a father in his high position, a man for whom I could do anything, literally everything , I would not hesitate to give my life for him, but he asks too much - he asks that I give the lives of all three of my friends to please his fears, and moreover, to please his temporary lust, I also bring the life of my dear only son a friend, the Comte de La F;re, in fact the son of all four of us, since none of us, except the Count, by God’s will, have children. I find this unacceptable, but fate is against me. I bring to the King evidence of the death of three of my friends, including the poor Viscount de Bragelonne, but this is not enough for him, he demands the execution of my last friend, Bishop d'Herblay! After that, without waiting for my actions to carry out this cruel order, he orders to seize the bishop and dooms him to a long painful death before my eyes, and me to the same death before his eyes. And I asked myself: “D'Artagnan! Who do you serve? Who did you serve? What did you spend your life on, if not so that this man, your future inquisitor, would prosper and strengthen his power?!” And then I decided to avoid this outcome. I got out of the Bastille with Bishop d'Herblay, but I realized that I would not be happy in France while such an ungrateful King ruled in it, but I would not be happy outside of France either! Over the past two months, all I have heard is about the damned marshal's baton and the exorbitant price that the King demands from me for it. Damn it, that damn rod! And the King along with him. Sorry, Your Majesty, I'm talking about you. I didn't mean to offend you, I just insulted you. Well, this is already a thing of the past, you are no longer the King, and if you ever become one again, my words will not change anything in my fate, regardless of whether I would tell you everything that I am saying now or keep silent. I won, are you talking about me, Francois? But I did not declare this war! This war was declared for me by those who were used to thinking for me, moving me like a chess piece across the squares: one step forward, one step sideways, one step back. Disgusting! Out of me, a soldier, an officer, they first made me a messenger to ensure impunity for the pranks of the royals, then an instrument in the fight against Paris and its people, and finally, they tried to turn me into an instrument for the execution of my friends. I didn’t make a decision, I just defended myself to the best of my ability, trying to avoid the most terrible outcome, choosing the lesser of two evils. From the disgusting and unbearable, I was forced to choose the disgusting. Well, I have overthrown one King and installed another in his place. Do you know what I want to do most, Francois, son? I want to let the King go in all directions and go wherever his eyes may lead.
At these words of d'Artagnan, Louis fidgeted restlessly, apparently hoping to convince the captain to carry out his intention.
- Don’t be afraid, Your Majesty, I won’t do this, calm down! - d'Artagnan joked, and then continued. “You see, my friend, we cannot do this, because then we will be immediately arrested, and along with us many other good people.” I figured the King's brother might be a better alternative. May be so. But how can I serve him faithfully, remembering every second that I put him on the throne in such a dishonest way? Do you think he will be able to keep with him such a dangerous person who knows the terrible secret about the presence of a second copy of the King, who, if necessary, can be returned to his original place? Prince Philip said that someday he would probably be able to restore Louis to his place, or improve his lot. He does not look like a fool, therefore he is a deceiver. What happens, we replaced one satrap with another? Your Majesty, don’t be offended, I love it! Look at this, Francois! The Sun King, who commands states to wage war, who with the stroke of a pen can take away lives or give, overturning the verdicts of his own court, this man, as soon as his hands and feet are tied and a gag is put in his mouth, becomes a pathetic, insignificant and worthless little man who can be killed. worthless. But to kill a defenseless person is vile, and to kill the former King - I can’t even find a word for such an atrocity! And so I turn into a jailer! First, I am ordered to put the Count de La F;re in the Bastille, then I take the superintendent of finance, Mr. Fouquet, there, after which they take me there myself and promise to starve me to death in front of my best friend. And finally, when I find a seemingly acceptable solution, the new King sees no better use for me than to instruct me to take the former King to prison, to the dungeon on the island of Pignerol. And what do you think this says, Francois?
“I believe this proves that the new King fears the release of his double just as much as the former King did, doesn’t it?” - asked Francois.
“This proves that the new King is just as short-sighted as the old one.” Don't be offended, I beg you, Your Majesty! The fortress of Pignerol on the island of Saint-Marguerite is least suitable for holding a prisoner of this kind. Well, think for yourself! After all, this is an island! It is located about a mile from the coast. There is another island nearby, which is not visible from the shore! If, for example, the Spaniards decided to weaken France by organizing a civil war in it, then nothing would be easier for them than with one or two warships, secretly under the cover of the island of Saint-Honorat, approach the island of Saint-Marguerite, attack it and capture it prisoner Then it is enough to declare him the true King of France and you will have a civil war. Is this what you wanted, Your Majesty, when you sent your brother Philip to this fortress? And is this what Philippe is now achieving by sending His Majesty Louis XIV to the same place? You might as well just take His Majesty abroad! Sardinia, Italy, and the Ottoman Empire can take similar actions. They just lack information about it. Your Majesty, you brought in hundreds of soldiers to capture Monsieur d'Herblay, but if you have a network of spies, you should have known that Monsieur d'Herblay had already visited Spain, and if you wanted to destroy everyone who was initiated into your secret, then either you believe that Monsieur d'Herblay is not going to let anyone in on this secret, and in this case you would just have to agree with him that he will no longer use it against you, or you don’t believe me, but then you should assume that, at a minimum, the Spanish government is already privy to this secret, so by exterminating M. d’Herblay, you will only give further proof to the Spaniards that this man was indeed the bearer of some terrible secret, and not was a dreamer who came up with an incredible invention! Your actions are illogical because you trusted Mr. Colbert too much! And what do I see after your brother comes to your place? He invites Mr. Colbert and appoints him as head of the French government with him. It’s great that he’s with himself and not above himself, but it’s very bad that, having removed one superintendent, he installs another, although in a nominally different position, but by no means with less powers. Excuse me! I'm tired of politics, I'm tired of military service, I'm tired of government decisions based on the ambitions of small people fighting for the attention of the sovereign and for their influence on him. That King or that one - what's the difference? I would open the doors and let you out, Your Majesty, if I did not think that by such an action I would either kill you or start a civil war where innocent citizens of France would die. What are you saying? Will you give me any promises on the condition that I let you go? I am begging you! You showed me the value of your promises recently in the Bastille. Besides, I won’t be me if Colbert hasn’t already sent after us a dozen and a half spies who are monitoring the movement of the carriage, every turn, every change of horses. That’s why I took my carriage, because Colbert believes that I will never leave it, and will ride in it myself to the end, all the way to Cape Pointe Croisette. Funny, by God! The reason I didn’t use the carriage was because I felt more comfortable in the saddle, and not at all because I was saving it for some special occasion! You know, Your Majesty, putting something aside for a rainy day is, by God, not my thing! I prefer to think that a rainy day will never come, or to consider every day black in order to have the right to use what has been put aside, because I firmly believe that when this very rainy day comes, what has been put aside will still not be enough for it. Therefore, Your Majesty, only one circumstance prevents me from letting you go. This circumstance is your great resemblance to Your Majesty. Sorry for the pun. Putting an iron mask on you makes the chickens laugh! After all, the mask can be removed. Now, if it were possible to change your appearance so that you could never again become the cause of civil war in France, then it would be fair and safe to let you go. Indeed, go somewhere abroad and live as a simple civilian, God be with you. Or do you believe that your brother Philip will arrive after some time and open the doors of your prison and say to you: “My brother, forgive me, let’s rule together”? Or even worse, will he give up his place on the throne to you with the words “now it’s your turn”? Nonsense! Empty. I will not gouge out your eye or mutilate your cheek, cut off your lips or ears. It's cruel. But, you know, I knew an Indian. They manage to paint their faces in such a way that even the mother would not recognize her child under these colored patterns. However, why I said that I was familiar with him, I am still familiar with him. By the way, we will soon arrive at his house. Are you willing to cover your face with several designs that will forever deny you the opportunity to use your likeness to regain your throne or to plunge France into civil war? In this case you will have complete freedom. You can go wherever you want! Or do you prefer, spending languid days in captivity, hoping that your appearance will one day allow you to regain your lost throne? Life will pass in captivity, and this opportunity will never present itself. Think, Your Majesty, it’s not too late to radically change your life, but remain free. In India, or, for example, in Africa, such decorations on the face are by no means considered something out of the ordinary. Of course, in no city in Europe you will be able to walk freely with unusual patterns on your face, but we can simply change the lines of the mouth and eyes through the so-called subcutaneous patterns. You will lose your resemblance to yourself, but at the same time keep your face almost completely intact. How do you like this idea? Why are you silent? Is it just because I didn’t take that disgusting pear out of your mouth, or do you have nothing to say? Well, Francois, dear, we cannot torment the King any longer, he wants to breathe in a mouthful of air and tell us his opinion about us and our action. Attention, there will be a storm now. Careful, Your Majesty, I'm removing the gag.

LXXXII. Wrath of the King

As soon as d'Artagnan took the gag out of the King's mouth, Louis burst out with monstrous abuse.
- Captain! - he said. “You had the audacity to vilely kidnap me, after which you still imagine that you can afford to lecture me?!” You are a state criminal and should be executed! Know, whether you kill me now, or later, or take me to prison, the Lord will punish you, as well as earthly judgment! I call upon your head all the thunder of heaven!
After this, His Majesty Louis XIV allowed himself a number of very long epithets, which our pen resolutely refuses to convey. The last turns of the King's speech spoke of the captain's pedigree, as well as his similarity with the inhabitants of that part of the underworld with which the religions of all countries intimidate their people, in vain trying to make them kinder and nobler.
At the last words of the King, d'Artagnan shook his head and again inserted the gag into Louis's mouth.
“You are absolutely right, Your Majesty,” he agreed, “however, I must note that you completely did not take into account the information that I had the honor to tell you before the start of your speech.” If you don't mind, we'll ride in silence for a while. I see you don't mind. In an hour we will arrive at the house of my Indian friend. Think finally about what you choose - a tattoo or lifelong imprisonment. I must remind you that the order of Philip, your brother, who continues to rule under the name of Louis XIV , did not give you this choice, so by offering it, I am committing another rebellion, but I am no stranger to it. I forgot to tell you that your brother’s name is Louis-Philippe, as well as the fact that according to the laws of France, twins have equal rights, so he has every right to be called Louis XIV, both according to human laws and according to the laws of God .

LXXXIII. Francois

After half an hour of silence, the captain turned to Francois.
“By the way, my friend, you were going to explain to me why your mother doesn’t like the Gascon character.”
- Oh, it's a very simple story, captain! - answered Francois. “My mother’s husband was thirty-five years older than her, and she never loved him, and entered into marriage under the coercion of her guardian, since her parents were dead by that time.
“Well, this happens, but, as I see it, the age difference did not prevent the worthy Monsieur de Perrin from marrying such a wonderful young man as you are,” the captain smiled.
“My mother’s husband has nothing to do with my birth,” Francois smiled. — She had one young and frisky friend. It was from him that she gave birth to me.
- Well, let's not blame her. If a man takes a wife thirty-five years younger than himself, he must be prepared for such a turn. I would still understand the difference of thirty years... But thirty-five is too much! And even if he didn’t like his character so much - “As for the Gascon character, it was precisely the character of this young friend who, as I said, was my father, that irritated her,” objected Francois.
- So he beat her, or often cheated on her? - asked the captain.
“Neither one nor the other,” answered Francois. “He just played tricks with her, and then one fine day he jumped on a horse and left to conquer Paris.”
“There’s nothing strange in this, because you did the same too, didn’t you?” - asked the captain.
“Perhaps, but before this I have not fathered any child with any resident of Gascony!” - answered Francois.
- How can you be sure of this? - D'Artagnan grinned.
“Yes, I just remember all my days and all my nights,” answered Francois, “In any case, those that I did not spend alone.”
“Well, you have a good memory, son,” the captain smiled. - I had the same one when I was your age.
- In this case, you probably remember Vevien Fezansak? - asked Francois.
— Vevien Fezansak? Baby Vivienne?! - cried the captain. - My God! Of course I remember! But your last name seems to be de Perrin,” the captain was surprised.
“My mother was widowed long before I was born, and this is the name of my mother’s second husband, who adopted me and which she registered me as,” Francois answered simply.
- So you are the son of Vevien Fezansak? - asked the captain. - What was your father's name?
“His name was Charles de Castelmore, Mister Captain,” answered Fran;ois.
- Damn it! Vivien's son! How old are you? - cried d'Artagnan.
“I turned twenty-two, Mister Captain, recently,” answered Francois.
- Exactly! Strike me with thunder! Francois! Hug your father! - exclaimed the captain.
- This one? - Francois asked in disbelief, pointing his hand at the bound King.
- Yes, me, me, damn you! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “After all, I visited your mother out of old memory about twenty-three years ago!” Damn it! I don't regret it at all! Francois, my dear! That's why they find us so similar!
“It seems to me that your nose, Mister Captain, is much larger than mine...” Francois said slyly.
- Go to hell!!! - D'Artagnan said cheerfully, hugged his son and laughed so hard that the carriage shook.
- Do you know what, sir? - the captain turned to Louis. - By God, on such an occasion I would let you out on all four sides, and let it all go to hell!
Louis looked hopefully into the captain's eyes.
- I would gladly let you go, I swear on my honor! But I can’t,” the captain said sadly. - Firstly, you will be killed by those spies who are probably coming after us. And if they don’t kill you, then they will kill your brother Philip. I don't like both of these outcomes. If they don’t kill you both, then so many people in France will die in internecine wars that it would be better for me to strangle you with these very own hands. So, I can't go for it. Secondly, if I release you and you regain the throne, then you will execute both me and my son, and I am not used to losing sons as soon as I have gained them. You know, they don’t throw away their sons; they’re not like kittens. But taking you to Pinerol would be extremely stupid. One thing remains. No matter how sorry I am to part with Francois, having barely found him, and no matter how sorry I am to part with you, Your Majesty, while you are so sweetly silent, I will still allow you to leave you for a while and entrust it to my son. Francois, dear, from now on you are Captain d'Artagnan, who is taking his captive Abbot d'Herblay to the Pignerol fortress. At the nearest convenient place I will leave you and set up a small ambush for those who are traveling behind us, and they are coming, you can be sure of it. Once I know who they are and how many there are, we will decide what to do. If I don’t catch up with you, we’ll meet in Lyon, at the Silver Sword inn.

LXXXIV. Something about seafood

As our dear readers probably remember, we left Porthos with du Chantet near the little-known town of Cannes. D'Artagnan insisted that Porthos certainly go to Scotland, where he would settle in the Monkville house on the banks of the Clyde River, and also summon Miss Mary Grefton and two or three of her aunts there from London, if any.
Doubting that Porthos would carry out his instructions exactly, the captain repeated these instructions to Lieutenant du Chante, whom he especially asked to see to it that Porthos left France as soon as possible, finding Porthos's stay in it extremely dangerous to his health.
According to the captain's instructions, Porthos and du Chante were to travel to San Remo, from where they would take a ship to Barcelona. Next, they had to travel by land to Bilbao, from where they would travel by sea to Scotland. The captain rightly judged that they would not meet Colbert's spies heading east, since Colbert must have received information from the King that d'Artagnan might try to reach the island of Saint-Marguerite, while San Remo was much further away to the east, where there was no point in waiting for d'Artagnan.
In San Remo, du Chantet left Porthos in one of the coastal inns and begged him not to leave him under any circumstances, while the lieutenant himself headed to the coast in order to charter a ship or find another way to be on board a ship sailing to Barcelona.
For ten whole days the lieutenant was unable to find a suitable ship; finally, one fine day, returning to the inn, du Chantet announced to Porthos that they were sailing in the evening.
- Let's refresh ourselves before the road! - said Porthos and ordered the innkeeper to carry everything he had edible.
“I wouldn’t recommend eating too much,” noted du Chantet, “the sea is expected to be rough, and we can’t wait until we set sail.”
- Nonsense! - Porthos answered. “A good snack has never hurt me.”
However, when a dish with rice and some strange pieces between it was placed in front of Porthos, the baron was quite surprised by the appearance of the proposed dish.
- What did you bring me, you swindler? - He asked the boy who was setting the table with suspicion.
“This is a dish of rice and seafood,” answered the boy. “The owner said that you have destroyed all other supplies over the past ten days, since meat suppliers cannot keep up with your appetites.” But it's very good food, don't worry.
- Explain to me, little one, what exactly are the pieces I see here among the ordinary rice porridge that peasants eat?
“These are delicious oysters, shrimp, pieces of octopus and squid,” the boy answered.
- Disgrace! - exclaimed Porthos. “In these seaside towns they feed you anything!” No wonder there are so few people here! What fool would come to this San Remo of yours, where honest Catholics are fed some kind of Chinese sea beetles!
After this, Porthos carefully tried a piece of shrimp, but found it very tasty. Then he decided to try the oyster, and found it also quite edible. Having tasted a piece of octopus, he found it somewhat more elastic and tasteless than it should have been, but no worse than lamb. Having thus satisfied himself that what was being offered to him was, apparently, not such a disgusting meal as its appearance might lead one to believe, he took the largest spoon he found on the table and began scooping up a mash of porridge and seafood straight from the pot, putting it all in your mouth and washing it down with Tokaji wine. Having been fairly full, he considered himself ready for the sea voyage.
Two hours later, a small schooner carried Porthos and du Chante towards Barcelona. The motion was, as the lieutenant had warned, quite strong, but at first Porthos did not pay attention to it at all, standing on the deck and peering into the distance with interest.
After some time, he thought that, perhaps, du Chantet was somewhat right when he said that before a sea voyage it would be advisable to slightly limit appetites.
An hour of such tossing finally convinced him that du Chantet was right, since Porthos had difficulty in concluding a peace agreement with his stomach.
After another half hour, the stomach violated this truce and declared military action against its owner, on two fronts at once.
Tired of the struggle for his serene existence and having completely lost both battles, both on the upper range and on the lower one, Porthos dreamed only of the ship landing on even the smallest island in all four oceans of the world, just to get at least a short respite from the swing, in which it would be possible to resume peace negotiations with one’s own body.
Observing signs of the giant's deplorable state of mind, the lieutenant agreed with the need to give the baron land rest at the first opportunity.
Since Cap d'Antibes was already far behind, the nearest land capable of providing the baron with the means to conclude a truce was the island of Saint-Marguerite.
The captain of the boat ordered the ship to be directed to the eastern end of the island, after which two sailors jumped ashore, picked up the ends of the ropes that he had dropped and tied them firmly to two ledges of the rocky shore. As soon as the light ladder was lowered, Porthos was the first to jump along it to the shore and disappeared into the nearest bushes to get rid of traces of seafood in his body, also using both ways to evacuate the resistance forces.
Du Chante was delayed, discussing with the captain the question of what time it would be better to set off on his further journey, so as soon as he finally went ashore, Porthos met him already in a relatively high mood. In any case, he was convinced that he had concluded not a fragile truce with his stomach, but a firm and indestructible peace.
“If, Baron, you have recovered your health, we can soon sail on,” he said to Porthos.
- No, no, pipes! - Porthos objected. “It takes me at least an hour to return to my previous state and be ready for further torture with the help of water and wind!”
“However, it seems to me that you have already rested and look very good,” said du Chantet doubtfully.
- Appearances are deceiving, my dear! - Porthos sighed. “I still feel weak.” Do you see that stone over there? - With these words, Porthos pointed to one of the huge stones lying on the shore.
- Do you want to lie down on it and relax? asked du Chantet.
- Not that! - Porthos waved him off. “If I were full of strength, I would certainly turn it over as a warm-up.” Now, as soon as I think about it, a strange feeling comes to my throat, which tells me that I have not already freed my body from all the remains of octopuses. Never eat octopus, my friend! - he added instructively. — The sea, apparently, does not want to part with its, excuse me, seafood. Therefore, it demanded their return from me, which I could not argue with for long.
“It seems to me that it was not only the sea that demanded its tribute from you, Baron,” Du Chante smiled.
“The stunted bushes that managed to grow in this meager soil will be grateful to me for this,” Porthos waved him off, “but I am also grateful to them for the shelter they provided.” This is what I call mutual assistance! However, the task of improving my health requires that I take a short walk along the island. Won't you join me, dear du Chantet?
“Well, let’s go, Baron,” agreed du Chantet. “Walking around the island will be more pleasant than just sitting on these wet rocks and waiting for your full recovery.”
— Pay attention to the magnificent fort on the northern part of the island! - said Porthos, to whom his usual good mood began to gradually return. “This fortress would be suitable for the defense of the island, but it was built on the wrong side.” After all, the island belongs to France, and the fortress was built by France.
“I believe that at one time this island was not French, and this explains that the fortress was built on that side of it that faces the French coast,” replied du Chantet.
- We don’t need to guess! - said Porthos. “We can look into this fortress and ask the commandant what the history of this fortress is.” After all, I myself took part in the design of military fortifications and even supervised the construction according to these drawings, so it will be interesting for me to get to know the fortress more closely.
“Well, I hope they’ll let us in and show us what interests you,” replied du Chantet.
- Why not let me in? - Porthos was surprised. “After all, the fortress is French, and you and I are citizens of France, and military people at that!”
“We will need to prove that we are not spies,” said du Chantet doubtfully.
“I always have evidence of this kind with me!” - Porthos answered proudly and patted his faithful sword, which he preferred never to part with.

When Porthos and du Chante approached the fortress, a guard came out to meet them and examined them carefully.
- What are you doing here, gentlemen? What do you want? - he asked.
“ I am Lieutenant du Chante, we are sailing, making a small cabotage, on the ship “Magali” and decided to make a short stop,” answered du Chante. “And this is my traveling companion, Baron du Valon.”
“I was a little tired from the seas, sergeant, and decided to take a two-hour break from swimming.” If you don't mind, we would like to pay our respects to the commandant of the fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
— Do you know M. de Saint-Mars? - asked the sergeant.
- But of course! - Porthos grinned. - After all, we were colleagues in the past! When I read the name of the fortress, I remembered that I knew its commandant and remembered his name, that’s all! Once upon a time, both he and the Marquis de Bezmo served as musketeers for de Treville! It was a great time! So, if Monsieur de Saint-Mars is so kind as to come out to us or invite us to come in, our time on the island will be spent both usefully and pleasantly. The contemplation of lead waves tires the traveler; one wants to look at something more stable, such as these fortress walls.
“I will report you to the commandant, most likely he will receive you,” answered the sergeant. - You are extremely lucky. If you had arrived a few days earlier, we would not have let you come closer than a musket shot to the fortress,” replied the sergeant.
— Would you shoot at your compatriots who do not show any signs of aggression? - Du Chantet was surprised.
- What to do! “That was the King’s order,” replied the sergeant.
“Our glorious King constantly wants to kill me,” Porthos grumbled when the sergeant disappeared behind the doors of the fortress. “He almost succeeded once, damn it!” If I were him, I would have calmed down already! No, in fact, if he doesn’t like me that much, maybe he’ll challenge me to a duel, and then we’ll see whose side fortune is on?
“Monsieur du Valon, I believe that in this case the order was not directed against you personally, but against anyone who would try to come into contact with the prisoner,” du Chantet whispered to him.
- Monsieur Baron du Valon! - exclaimed de Saint-Mars, who appeared at that moment at the door of the fortress. - Come in, come in, I’m very glad! Dinner will be ready soon.
“Thank you, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, I think I’ll abstain from dinner today,” said Porthos, turning slightly pale. - Do you have any tea? Just some strong tea? Let's say twenty-five to thirty degrees?
“There is a “boche,” answered de Saint-Mars.
“I don’t know what it is, but from the name I feel that this is exactly what I need to negotiate with my stomach!” Thank you, Mister Commandant!

“You know, you are incredibly lucky to come right now, and not a few days earlier,” said de Saint-Mars, pouring Porthos a “boche” with a generous hand.
- What, exactly, is our luck? - Porthos asked after he thanked the commandant with a nod and poured the contents of the goblet into himself in one fell swoop.
“We had a very inconvenient prisoner here.” There was an order to exclude any communication with him.
- And you would really shoot at us if we came closer than expected? - Porthos was surprised.
“Orders are not discussed,” Saint-Mars replied, shrugging and refilling Porthos’ cup. “I believe that this prisoner was a very distinguished person.” Apparently, it was the Duke de Beaufort, or the superintendent of finance Fouquet. I would not express my assumptions, but since the prisoner is no longer under my responsibility, all restrictions on this matter have been lifted from me.
“Why did you decide that it was the Duke de Beaufort or Superintendent Fouquet?” asked du Chantet.
“He was a prisoner of the kind who should be called monsignor,” said the commandant.
“Monsieur d’Herblay should also be called monsignor,” Porthos noted. - He is a spiritual person. I hope he was not your prisoner.
“I suppose not,” Saint-Mars agreed. “After all, Monsieur d’Artagnan, who took him away two days ago, would not have called him monsignor of his friend d’Herblay.” - answered de Saint-Mars. “However, such treatment was specifically prescribed in the order of the King, which M. d’Artagnan presented to me, and, by the way, left with me for keeping records on this matter.
- D'Artagnan? So he took it? So I want to say that he came to you? - asked Porthos. - Excuse me, is your fortress called Pignerol? I read the name “Royal Fort” at the entrance, and therefore I remembered that I had once heard that you serve as the commandant of this particular fortress.
- That's right, dear Baron! - de Saint-Mars agreed. - Pignerol.
- But this is a place in the north of Italy! - Porthos was surprised. “And there, it seems to me, there is a fortress with the same name.”
- Why would His Majesty send state criminals to a fortress located outside France? - said de Saint-Mars and added with a smile, “Do you think that we don’t have enough prisons of our own?” You don’t have to worry about this, dear Baron. If it were necessary to imprison all the nobles of the kingdom, then in this case casemates would be enough.
- I recognize the foresight of Cardinal Richelieu! - Porthos grinned. “He built enough of them, and also converted the fortresses into prisons.” What did you say the name of this drink is?
“Boche, Monsieur Baron, if you please,” replied de Saint-Mars, refilling Porthos’ cup. — In official documents, this fortress is called Pignerol for reasons... Well, in a word, that’s what it’s called in the King’s orders. Cardinal Richelieu, whom you just mentioned, deliberately came up with this code system of second names for fortresses for orders in order to... Well, in a word, to confuse those who should not know. But Captain d'Artagnan understands this system like the straps of his saddle, that is, I want to say that with his eyes closed he will find any fortress in France, even on a map, even on the ground, and you won’t confuse him with these names.
- Yes you are right! Let's drink to our glorious captain d'Artagnan, may good luck accompany him! - exclaimed Porthos. “However, my cup seems to be empty again,” he said sadly.
“We’ll fix that now,” replied de Saint-Mars, about to pour Porthos another drink.
“No, thank you, that’s enough for today,” Porthos rejected the tempting offer. “Today I should treat my body a little more gently than usual. However, I’ll probably drink half a glass for Captain d’Artagnan, with your permission, but this is definitely the last one for today!
A few minutes later, Porthos and du Chante, having had dinner and thanking the commandant, got ready to set off.
- You are a nice man, Monsieur de Saint-Mars! - said Porthos, rising from the table. - Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the hospitality! Come visit me in Pierrefonds sometime, let's hunt wild boar or roe deer together.
“My home is here now, Monsieur Baron, and I’m not supposed to leave the fortress,” de Saint-Mars said sadly. — Such joys as meeting with former colleagues do not happen often. It is I who should thank you for the visit.
“The captain and I have made good use of your supplies, and I would like...
“Don’t worry, Baron, this is not a tavern, and they won’t take money from you for staying here,” replied de Saint-Mars.
- But we introduced you to such expenses! - Porthos objected.
“My former prisoner was given a very good allowance, and Monsieur d'Artagnan said that this allowance would not be suspended, although he took the prisoner. Apparently, he will be brought back soon, but for now, with a clear conscience, I can use part of the supplies to treat my good colleagues. At least my conscience will be calmed by the fact that I spend government money not only on myself, but also on you, because if you visited a fortress owned by the King, then you are the King’s guests! And it is not proper for the King to take money for food from his guests.
“Thank you, dear Monsieur de Saint-Mars, thank you for everything.” We should probably go.
- Why are you going to swim at night? Spend the night in the fortress and set sail at dawn! - suggested de Saint-Mars.
“To tell the truth, we shouldn’t stay on land for long.” This is the order of those who sent us,” Porthos said uncertainly.
“Well, it’s not exactly dry land, it’s an island,” objected de Saint-Mars. “We could play a game or two of ombre or carom.”
- I really don’t know! What do you have to say about this, du Chantet? asked du Valon.
“We have a whole crew on the ship,” replied du Chantet. “We will embarrass Mr. Commandant too much.”
“Don’t embarrass me at all,” I would tell you, Lieutenant, if I were a civilian, but here, unfortunately, you are right. I have no right to receive more than two or three people in the fortress without special permission. Do not misunderstand me. But you can spend the night on the ship or camp on the shore, this is still better than sailing in such weather. I think there will be a storm tonight. And if Monsieur Baron is tired of contemplating the waves, I can offer him and you, Lieutenant, rest in the fortress,” suggested de Saint-Mars.
— Do you think that the pitching will intensify? - Porthos asked anxiously. - Damn these seafood! My advice to you, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, is to never eat octopus. Not in any way. And also oysters and shrimp. Not a crumb!
“I will warn the captain that we are spending the night on the island,” said de Chantet. “Stay in the fortress, Baron, and I’ll spend the night on the ship.” All the best!
After this, du Chante resolutely headed towards the standing ship, and de Saint-Mars took Porthos by the arm and said:
“I was recently taught one very interesting card game, but it requires at least four partners, and I, apart from those who are on duty or resting after night duty, never have four people!”
“I understand,” said Porthos. “In general, I can handle the pitching well, Mister Commandant, I assure you.” But those damned octopuses! They are so insidious!

LXXXV. Fees du Trabuson

Arriving home, du Trabuson proudly laid out his patent for captain of the royal guard in front of his wife.
- Mister Colbert personally awarded me this title! - he said.
- How, Didier?! Bypassing the ranks of lieutenant and senior lieutenant, did you become captain from junior lieutenant in one fell swoop? - Madame Olivia du Trabuson, who was well versed in military ranks and more, was surprised.
— I consistently visited all these ranks. Mr. Colbert gave me patents for these ranks, and immediately tore them up, replacing them with patents for a higher rank,” Captain du Trabuson said proudly. - Your Didier is still capable of something! And by the way, Senior Lieutenant D'Elsorte is now my subordinate! And besides, Lieutenant de Lortie! They have already been warned and are preparing for the trip. Tomorrow morning we are going on a hike with them, most likely to Cannes.
- Fi! To Cannes! - Madame Olivia du Trabuson pouted. “I could go with you if they sent you to a more decent place.” By the way, no one tore up your junior lieutenant’s patent! It can be sold!
“I don’t think that’s right,” du Trabuson answered doubtfully.
- Think yourself! If the constable, or the captain of the musketeers, or the marshal, or the commandant of the fortress resigns, he can transfer his position to his son, or sell it,” Madame Olivia continued to convince her husband.
- But I’m not resigning! - Didier exclaimed.
- You leave this position, it doesn’t matter whether because you resigned or because you received a new position. An old patent is also good. You can pass it on to your son, or, for example, to me,” Madame Olivia concluded.
- What the hell do you care about him? — Didier was surprised. — Do you want to create a women's battalion? - At these words, Didier laughed cheerfully, imagining how warriors with such forms as Madame Olivia would jump on horses.
“I, too, can ride a horse and get money and titles for it!” Olivia said proudly.
“What you can get is good punches from me, right here and now,” Didier replied.
- Take it easy, buddy! Olivia protested playfully. - Look, here it is, your junior lieutenant's patent. It says here that the patent entitles you to the rank of second lieutenant, and that the recipient of the patent is named Didier de Trabucon. As your wife, I am also called Madame Didier de Trabucon. So this patent may well be considered issued to me!
- The only difference is that women are not taken into the guard, Madame “Second Lieutenant Didier de Trabuson”! - Didier mimicked his wife.
- Okay, okay, I was joking. But I can go with you as your accompanying wife! Although Cannes is so boring!
“I’m not going to drag women around with me,” Didier snapped.
“Tell me, dear Didier, just tell the truth, because I can see perfectly well in your eyes when you are lying.” - said Madame Olivia, taking her husband by the chin. —Are you going to fight or spy?
“I’m an officer, not a spy,” Didier muttered, looking away.
- Do you want to convince me that in fact the head of the government, Intendant of Finance Colbert, promotes through two ranks ordinary officers who shed blood for the King at the fronts? Madame Olivia smiled. - Don't lie to me, you don't know how to do this. Not for me. You can deceive anyone, but not me, no, don’t hope.
“Of course, I’m not going to run into the attack with a sword...” Didier muttered.
- You men are fools! Do you think that an officer who is accustomed to marching in formation and riding in line, which is equivalent to having “The King’s Guard” written on him in three-foot letters, can make a good spy? Olivia chuckled. “Your Colbert doesn’t understand anything about the business of obtaining information if he entrusts these matters to such blockheads as you, dear Didier.”
- Oh, you rubbish! Am I the idiot? By the way, I am the captain of the royal guard! - Didier was indignant.
- Okay, I have nothing against the minister who promotes my husband to captain. But I want to help you, fool! - Olivia said in such a sweet voice that Didier was ready to admit that not only “fool”, but also “stupid” are very affectionate words.
“Okay, okay, I’ll think about it,” Didier answered condescendingly, after which he hastened to prove to Olivia that, having become a captain, he did not stop being her husband.

The next morning, de Trabuson learned that Colbert could not provide him with an order to extradite the prisoner of the Pignerol fortress, signed by the King. For some unknown reason, the King stopped signing Colbert's papers without looking. He carefully read each paper, and signed only if he fully approved of it. Very often he began to ask questions about the reasons for the need to sign this or that paper. Colbert realized that an order to remove a prisoner who had not yet been placed there would look very suspicious, the King might think that Colbert was hatching some kind of conspiracy, so he cleverly removed this order from the stack of papers prepared for signing, after which he did it himself at the bottom there is a note “In pursuance of the will of the King of France, I hereby confirm: Intendant of Finance Jean-Baptiste Colbert.”
Colbert did not know that, according to the order of the King, in relation to this prisoner, no one’s orders, except those signed by the King personally, are valid.

As soon as he received the order, de Trabuson, accompanied by d'Elsorte and de Lortie, set out on the trail of d'Artagnan's carriage. Reluctantly, he allowed Madame Olivia to go with them, at first deciding to explain to the two officers that he had taken her so that she could visit her sister near Cannes, but in the end he decided not to explain anything to them. “I’m their boss! - he said to himself. “Both I and they should get used to the fact that my decision does not require justification or explanation, it is their job to accept my decisions and obey them!”

LXXXVI. Gotan Kumar

On the edge of a small village stood a windswept shack. D'Artagnan jumped off his horse and entered the shack without knocking.
“Peace be with you, Gotan Kumar,” he addressed the almost completely naked dark and thin old man, who was sitting motionless in a strange position in the center of the room.
The old man looked at d'Artagnan and again plunged into self-contemplation.
“I’m sorry for distracting you from your self-contemplation.” The matter cannot be delayed. It is required to change a person’s face beyond recognition, while acting as delicately as possible, without offending his dignity.
The old man looked at the captain's mustache and beard.
- Thank you, my friend, but this will not do. No, it is not he who wants to hide from people, but it is necessary to make sure that he cannot look like himself and cannot restore his appearance. Therefore, a mustache and beard do not solve the problem. In addition, he already wears a beard and mustache. About the same as mine.
The old man made a circular movement with his eyes.
— Large warts all over your face? - he laughed. “Perhaps this is too cruel for our case.” No, I beg you, we need a more delicate solution. I warn you in advance: we will not cut off ears, lips and noses, we will not pierce cheeks or sew in rings. This is European, French. He has to live with it!
The old man rolled his eyes to the sky and returned his gaze to himself.
— A large round dot above the bridge of the nose? - d'Artagnan thought. “Well, it’s constructive, but I’m afraid it’s not enough.” One can imagine a situation where this measure will only create minor obstacles to something that should never be allowed to happen, but such obstacles can be overcome. No, it doesn’t fit,” d’Artagnan rejected the old man’s new proposal.
The old man moved his eyes from side to side.
— A dot tattoo around the contour of the eyes and lips, if done by a high-class specialist, can significantly change the overall appearance of the face. But I’m afraid this will also not be enough,” d’Artagnan answered again.
The old man made circular movements with his eyes, first in one direction, then in the other.
— Covering your entire face with patterns would, of course, be a solution, but then how can such a person live in an ordinary European country? - asked d'Artagnan.
The old man closed his eyes and opened them again.
- Send to colonial countries. “I’ll think about it,” d’Artagnan agreed doubtfully.
The old man raised one eyebrow.
“I was also glad to see you, but I’m not leaving yet,” d’Artagnan nodded his head. “I need the substance that makes patterns.” Well, the same thing that you inject under the skin. I'll take some. Where is it?
The old man pointed with his eyes to one of the shelves in the corner of the room.
- Yes, the devil himself will break your leg here! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - This? - he asked the old man, pointing his hand at one of the cans. - Or this one? Or that one over there? This one. Clear. That's for sure?
Having opened the jar, which the old man pointed to with some special expression in his eyes, the captain touched the substance in it, smelled it and touched it again.
“I appreciate your humor, dear Gotan Kumar,” he said, “but I’m not in the mood for jokes now, and I’m in a hurry.” Why the hell do I need the most ordinary gunpowder?
The old man closed his eyes and then looked into the captain's eyes with dignity.
- Not gunpowder? How could it not be gunpowder, when the structure, color, and smell,” the captain again sniffed the mysterious powder more carefully, “well, yes, the smell.” No, it's definitely gunpowder! Are you saying that there is nothing like that? Damn it, but I see that this is gunpowder. No, no, I believe you! But I want to check. Just a minute.
The captain turned and headed towards the exit of the hut.
“I don’t advise you to spoil your musket,” the old man said calmly.
- So you didn’t meditate? - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
“No,” answered the one whom the captain called Gotan Kumar.
“Why the hell didn’t you talk to me then?” - the captain was surprised.
“I wanted to once again train you to understand the language of the eyes.”
- Okay, okay, I took yours. So it's not gunpowder? Exactly?
“You were going to load this potion into a musket and try to fire it.” In this case, your musket can then be thrown away. - Gotan Kumar calmly replied.
- But this is impossible! Both the smell and the color! Everything is exactly like gunpowder! - The captain was surprised again.
“And the taste too, if you tried it on your tongue,” the old man clarified. - This is an ancient potion, its properties are specially disguised as gunpowder. It was used at a time when China was at war with India.
- Why do you need it here? - asked the captain.
— There was an opportunity to bring it, I brought it. replied Gotan Kumar.
- How much of this potion do you have? - asked the captain.
“The jar you hold,” answered the old man.
- I'll take everything. You do not mind, do you?
“Krishna sent, Krishna took, Krishna will send what is needed, Krishna will not send if it is not necessary,” the old man calmly answered.
“Well then, Krishna asked me to give you five pistoles,” said d’Artagnan and put the money on the shelf from where he took the potion.
The old man changed his position and closed his eyes.
D'Artagnan closed the doors of the hut and left, taking with him a tin can filled to the top with a substance strikingly reminiscent of gunpowder.

LXXXVII. Four guardsmen

Colbert was thinking about one of the projects when the Major of the Royal Guards, Comte de Shuzo, entered him without a report.
“Monsieur Colbert,” said the major after the guest and host had exchanged appropriate greetings. - Your position under His Majesty is very enviable, but...
“My position, Mr. Major, cannot in any way be called a position under His Majesty,” Colbert objected, “since I am not a favorite or a favorite, but a minister.” My position is thus determined not in relation to the King, but in relation to the government. So, by the grace of His Majesty, I am currently heading this government.
“Thus, you find it possible to issue patents to my guardsmen and send them in unknown directions for unknown purposes,” said the major, although still excitedly, but more calmly.
- Clarification. You said that I find it possible. “I will answer that I find it necessary,” Colbert replied.
- In that case, perhaps you will consider it possible, or, excuse me, necessary, to issue patents for the major of the royal guard? - asked the major in a again aggravated tone.
“I don’t rule it out,” Colbert answered calmly.
“Don’t take it as insolent, but should you interfere in the affairs of the royal guard?” - asked the major, trying to speak in a completely calm tone, realizing that he was losing this battle.
“I will stop interfering in this matter as soon as my intervention is no longer necessary.” - Colbert answered just as calmly. - Let me ask, Mr. Major, where are your four guardsmen, whose last names are du Bois, de Savard, de Chereau and de Farcy, currently located?
“As far as I know, these gentlemen have left at the disposal of M. d’Artagnan by special order of His Majesty on this score,” answered the major.
“This order, as far as you and I know, ordered them to assist in the delivery of certain important messages to addresses known to M. d'Artagnan,” Colbert agreed. - But here’s one small catch. Monsieur d'Artagnan, it has been at least a day and a half since he returned to Paris, if only he was leaving somewhere, and these gentlemen are not with him. How do you explain this?
“I’ll make inquiries with Monsieur d’Artagnan about my people,” the major said in confusion, realizing his mistake.
“Don’t you think, Monsieur Major, that inquiries should have been made yesterday, when Monsieur d’Artagnan appeared at the Louvre?” - Colbert scoffed. “Today he has left Paris in accordance with His Majesty’s new instructions, and in order to make inquiries about the four guardsmen, you will need other guardsmen who will have to catch up with Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
“I will correct my mistake,” replied the major in a tone indicating an admission of guilt, at least in part.
“I’ve already fixed it,” Colbert said coldly. “You may also be surprised that, having instructions to send out some documents, Monsieur d’Artagnan appears and reports that he has carried out a completely different assignment, which consists in capturing his former colleague and friend, if the word “former” is appropriate here.
“This is somewhat strange,” the major agreed.
“It’s not at all strange to me,” Colbert objected. “But there are some discrepancies in this case that I need to clear up.” For this purpose, for the state purpose, mind you, since we are talking about the capture of a state criminal, I seized three guardsmen and gave them special powers to carry out special assignments. As you may have noticed, I have already performed similar actions on behalf of His Majesty before. And they also concerned the capture of this same state criminal. I'm talking about Monsieur d'Herblay. Do you have any questions, Mister Major?
“I recognize your right to do as you did, Monsieur Colbert,” replied the major.
“When Messrs. du Bois, de Savard, de Ch;reau and de Farcy return,” Colbert continued, “and they will return in the very near future, send them to me immediately.” Do you hear me? Immediately means that they should not change clothes, rest, drink, sleep, and, especially, communicate with any of the other guardsmen. Immediately to me, from the horses, right away. This is a matter of national importance.
“I understand you, Mr. Minister, everything will be done exactly,” the major answered, coldly but calmly.
“Thank you, Mr. Major,” Colbert replied. - I won't keep you any longer.
And he went back into his papers.

Less than two hours later, the four guardsmen in question entered Colbert's office.
- Which one of you is Monsieur du Bois? - Colbert asked, after which, looking at the guardsman who responded to this name, he added, “I ask you to stay here with me and give me a report on your trip.” If anything is not clear to me, I will ask again and ask you to explain in detail, but for now, first, describe the trip in general terms. But first, I ask, Messrs. de Savard, de Chereau and de Farcy, go into these offices, I ask you to wait, when we finish our conversation with Monsieur du Bois, it will be your turn. Please do not be offended that I offer each of you a separate room, this is for your own good. I ask you to write down briefly what your trip was like. The more detailed you describe it, the less time we will spend talking. I will ask you, Mister du Bois, to write down your report after we have had a preliminary conversation orally. Gentlemen, I will not detain you; in the offices provided to you, you will find paper, pens and ink.

Two hours later, Colbert knew about d'Artagnan's trip to the same people that the four guardsmen accompanying him knew.
“So, he assured them that he had gone for some stupid relics, which he then sent to the rector of Rouen Cathedral, who had never heard of such a shrine. He had them wrapped around his little finger,” Colbert reasoned. “He needed them as protection from my own people and to give significance to his mission.” In fact, he brought some prisoner from the island of Saint-Marguerite, whom he presented to the King as the bishop of Vannes, Monsieur d'Herblay, and the King did not refute this. His Majesty has changed very much since d'Artagnan's return or a little earlier. d'Artagnan knew about this because he had stopped hiding. Apparently, he was the one who took this same man to the island of Saint-Marguerite a month earlier, so this man cannot be Monsieur d’Herblay, whom my people caught at that very time... Wait a minute! They caught him trying to go to Saint-Marguerite Island! Well, well!.. This man has a great influence on His Majesty. Who is he? Duke de Beaufort? Excluded! When the captain took him to Saint-Marguerite for the first time, the Duke de Beaufort was heading to war in the fortress of Candia at the head of the French troops. It can't be Fouquet. It cannot be Prince Cond; or Conti. Who is this man? I have to see him. If Du Trabuson shoots him, it will be a disaster! But I won’t have time to recall it. So, du Trabuson will only shoot him if d'Artagnan lets the man go. But he won't let him go. And this is not d'Herblay. If he leaves him in the fortress, then Du Trabuson, with the help of my order, will pick him up and bring him to Paris, tied up, with a bag on his head. Great. But there remains a third possibility, damn it! If d'Artagnan tried to escape with this man, then du Trabuson would shoot them both. I should not have instructed Du Trabuson to kill this prisoner, that was my mistake! But I didn’t know that d’Artagnan brought this man and the islands of Saint-Marguerite! I must go there myself, and I must be there before d'Artagnan and before du Trabuson! Is it possible? Will the King let me go? Impossible. Well, we can only wait here in Paris for news from there.”
At that moment, a secretary entered Colbert’s office and reported:
- Mister Minister, a certain Auguste du Trabuson asks to see you on urgent business.
— Auguste du Trabuson? - Colbert was surprised. - Let him come in.
“Your Excellency, I am the son of Captain Didier du Trabuson,” the young man introduced himself.
- Oh, that's it? “Excellent, young man,” Colbert replied, not understanding anything of what was happening. - What do you want?
- My mother sent me. She told me: “Son, Monsieur Colbert is sending your father on an urgent and important matter. You must go and give Monsieur Colbert two pigeons and this note."
With these words, the young man laid a sheet of paper on the minister’s desk.
“And the pigeons remained there, in the reception room, in cages, Mr. Minister,” said the young man.
Colbert unfolded the note and read the following:

“Mr. Minister, I am sending you a method for quickly delivering messages, which my husband learned in the service of a certain gentleman. These pigeons can deliver urgent letters from you to my husband. One pigeon was brought from Lyon, the other from Grenoble. The dove from Lyon has a red thread tied to its foot, and the dove from Grenoble has a blue thread. If Mister Minister wishes to send any clarifications to the orders that Captain du Trabuson has received, then Mister Minister will only need to tie a small letter to the paw of one of the pigeons. These pigeons are trained to return to their dovecote by the shortest route. Fulfilling an order from the Minister, Captain du Trabuson took two pigeons from Paris, from a dovecote known to my son, Auguste du Trabuson. If these pigeons bring any letter from my husband, my son will immediately deliver it to you, Mr. Minister. I remain devoted to you Madame Olivia du Trabuson.”

Colbert looked with admiration at the note, then at the young man who delivered it and asked:
- Monsieur du Trabuson Jr. I'm very pleased to meet you. Let me ask, why didn’t your mother come to me with such an important message herself?
“She dressed herself in a man’s suit, got on a horse and rode off with my father, Mr. Minister,” answered the young man.

Colbert quickly stood up and went out into the reception area. There, on the floor of his waiting room, he saw two cages with pigeons. Then, pointing to Du Trabuson the Younger, he said to the secretary:
- Lucien! You will allow this young man to see me at any time of the day or night without report and without delay!
Then he returned to his office, pulled out a desk drawer, in which lay several dozen wallets with money, chose the smallest of them, opened it with two fingers to make sure that it was not gold, but silver, after which, with a careless movement of his hand, he removed this wallet from the table and handed it to du Trabuson the younger.
“When your father and your wise mother return, having completed the task entrusted to them both, I ask them to come to me with a report,” he said to the young man. - As soon as there is news, inform me of it without the slightest delay, no matter what time it happens.

After the young man left, Colbert sat down at the table, took a pen and a small sheet of thin paper and began to write in a neat hand in his corner:

“The prisoner whom d'Artagnan is escorting is to be recaptured and taken alive to Paris, excluding communication with anyone. I allow Captain d'Artagnan to be killed. TO".

Having cut out the scribbled fragment, Colbert rang the bell. He said to the secretary who came in:
- Lucien, bring me a dove with a red thread on its leg.

LXXXVIII. King

At noon, as usual, Colbert was at a reception with the King to resolve the most important state issues. May my readers forgive me, from now on we will allow ourselves to call Prince Philip the King, who he, in fact, has already become, and for how long, our further narration will show.
“Is there any news about Captain d’Artagnan’s mission?” - King Colbert asked, signing another document, which he had carefully read before.
“ I have learned, Your Majesty, that the prisoner whom Captain d’Artagnan introduced as the Bishop of Vannes is not such,” Colbert replied, carefully observing the King’s reaction to this message.
- Indeed? - the King asked calmly. - I cannot refute this statement of yours, nor, incidentally, can I confirm it. I only asked a few brief questions to this prisoner, and from his answers I could conclude that it was, in fact, Monsieur d'Herblay, although, after some reflection, I am ready to agree that similar answers could have been given by another person if he had been carefully prepared to that. But why, pray tell, would another person want to impersonate the Bishop of Van?
“Such psychological incidents are known in history, Your Majesty, when some fanatic tried to impersonate another person, even knowing that this did not promise him any benefits, and, on the contrary, sometimes even threatened with severe punishment,” Colbert answered.
— Do you intend to understand this mysterious situation in detail? - the King asked indifferently.
“I have already begun my little investigation, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied with a bow.
— Without receiving my sanction? - asked the King. - Well, by God, but don’t spend too much money on satisfying your curiosity. I remind you that I did not appoint you as intendant of finance so that you could spend public finances according to your whims, as your predecessor M. Fouquet did, but for precisely the opposite purpose, so that you would help strengthen the public financial system. There will no longer be a superintendent of finance in France, since the functions of final planning of the largest expenses will now be controlled by me myself, and for those large expenses that it will be difficult for me to understand on my own, a financial council with advisory functions will be provided.
“I ask you to forgive me the unauthorized expenses for this investigation, Your Majesty, however, I note that these expenses fit into the minimum under my control, agreed with Your Majesty, necessary for organizing the rule of law and maintaining law and order in the financial part of the state,” Colbert replied.
— Do you link the activities of Captain d'Artagnan with the financial problems of the state? - asked the King completely dispassionately.
“Very large sums have been allocated for the maintenance of the prisoner of the Pignerol fortress, as a result of which I considered it necessary to carry out an audit of these expenses,” Colbert answered meekly.
“Mr. Colbert,” the King remarked as dispassionately as before, “I appreciate your zeal, but in future I would ask you to moderate it somewhat.” The fortress on the island of Saint-Marguerite was specially chosen by me to contain prisoners of high position. Persons who have the right to be addressed with the title "Monsignor" retain this right for life, unless they are deprived of this title by my royal decision, and in no other cases. This title gives them the right to appropriate maintenance even if, for the good of the state, I decide to limit the circle of communication of such persons with other people, who are or are not citizens of my country. If I find the incarceration of such persons to be the only proper course of action, I also reserve the right to decide what level of welfare I shall provide for such prisoners.
- Your Majesty forbids me to control the accuracy of the execution of your orders by the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan? Colbert asked.
“I didn’t say that,” the King objected. “I just wanted to remind you that such activities are not part of your duties and were not entrusted to you with the exception of that small episode when I sent him to the Belle-Ile fortress. But this matter is over long ago, so I strongly suggest that you return to your main responsibilities in my government, Mr. Colbert.
“I will not fail to do just that, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied with a bow.
“You should know, Mister Colbert, that I myself decide who I trust to lead the musketeers, that is, my main bodyguards,” the King continued. “At the moment I have no reason to doubt the loyalty of M. d'Artagnan. I remind you that it was he who carried out the arrest of your predecessor, Mr. Fouquet, and, if necessary, it is he who will also carry out your arrest. Probably, the understanding of this fact prevents the establishment between you and him of a constructive relationship of cooperation between two zealous statesmen. It's very sad for me to see this. My good advice to you, Colbert. Make peace with Monsieur d'Artagnan.
“As you say, Your Majesty,” Colbert agreed and bowed to the King again.
“As for Mr. Bishop of Van,” the King continued, “I’ll tell you a little gossip.” Suppose I had good reason to be angry with one man who had many connections in the highest circles of power in European countries such as Spain, England, Holland, Portugal, Venice and even the Ottoman Empire. My anger was based on the fact that this man had demonstrated intentions to use these connections to the detriment of France.
“Your Majesty’s feelings are completely justified,” Colbert agreed.
“I found a whip on this man, and I used this whip,” continued the King. “I declared this person persona non grata and sharply limited the possibilities of his stay on French territory. After this, the said person realized that the King of France was not a person with whom one could act dishonorably.
“Extremely smart, Your Majesty,” Colbert said.
“At the moment I did not ask you for your approval of my actions, Monsieur Colbert,” Philip answered coldly. “I’m just explaining to you, Mister Colbert, that under certain circumstances, extreme anger can be replaced by mercy, as a result of which my desire to destroy Mister Bishop of Vannes, or at least imprison him in a casemate, may lose its relevance. I can easily reverse my decision if I am presented with evidence of sufficiently effective activities of the Bishop of Vannes for the benefit of France in the past, in the present and, what is much more important, in the future.
Colbert bowed silently, to which the King nodded approvingly and continued.
- Mr. Bishop of Vannes or any other person whom I consider useful in the future for my policy in Europe can be forgiven for those faults that are known to me, or even rewarded for the services that he has provided, is providing or will provide to me, which means , and France,” the King concluded. “If I agreed to recognize in the man presented to me as the bishop of Vannes the person that Monsieur d’Artagnan called him, then such was my will.” If I have ordered that this person be sent to custody on the island of Saint-Marguerite, then this must be carried out. If I ever decide to release this person, or any other person, from custody, then so be it. Let me remind you that the Duke de Beaufort, imprisoned by Cardinal Mazarin, was subsequently pardoned and received the highest confidence from me, your King, also received from me the highest military posts in the state and carried out several successful naval operations. I still mourn his loss and cherish the thought that he did not die, but was only captured, and in this case I will not stop before paying the ransom that the Ottoman Empire will demand for him.
“I will make every effort to carry out a search in this case,” Colbert replied.
“It’s not worth it,” the King waved him off, “I have other services for that.” Take care of finances.
“This has always been and will be the main subject of my concerns, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied.
“I’m glad that you understand my desire so correctly,” the King nodded.

Returning to his office, Colbert picked up his pen again. This time he wrote:

“Kill them both, hide all traces. Remove the performers. TO."

Then he rang the bell again and said to the secretary:
- Lucien, I need a dove with a blue thread.

LXXXIX. Kumar’s powder

Four horsemen rode up to the Gray Fox tavern and, throwing the reins of their horses to two grooms who approached, went inside.
“Innkeeper, we need two rooms for the night, serve food in them, and also take care of our horses,” said the senior rank. “Tomorrow we’ll leave at first light!” We are in a hurry.
“Jacques will show you the rooms, Mr. Officer, dinner will be brought to you in twenty minutes.”
“Okay,” the officer replied. “Tell me, my dear, how long ago has a carriage passed here, blue with the count’s coat of arms, on which eagles are depicted on blue fields located diagonally, and on the other two yellow fields a fortress wall with two towers is depicted? ”
“You are talking about the coat of arms of Count d'Artagnan,” answered the innkeeper. “The count’s carriage passed this afternoon, but the travelers did not leave it. They moved on.
- Wonderful! - the officer answered, and turning to his companions, he added in a low voice. - Tomorrow we will catch up with them.
After this, taking one of the horsemen by the hand, the said officer went, accompanied by Jacques, to inspect the proposed rooms. Having chosen a room to his taste, he occupied it with his companion, and the other two guardsmen were placed in another room.
- And since when did women start dressing up as guardsmen and riding around on horseback, accompanied by three men? - the innkeeper asked himself. - And where is the husband looking?
Then the innkeeper felt that someone was quietly pulling his sleeve.
“Monsieur d'Art!..” the innkeeper exclaimed, but did not have time to finish, because the officer, who had quietly entered after the four, put his hand over his mouth.
- Quiet, buddy! - D'Artagnan whispered. - Do not be noisy. What kind of people are these?
“It looks like they are catching up with you, Mr. Captain,” the innkeeper answered in a whisper. - Or they are following your carriage.
- Great, Revial, I know that. Thank you. - answered d'Artagnan, for it was he.
“It seemed to me that one of the riders was a woman in disguise,” said the innkeeper.
“It didn’t seem like it, Revial, that’s how it is,” the captain agreed. - Tell me, buddy, is there a way to listen to what they are talking about?
“Next to the room in which I put two junior officers, there is a small closet for storing tools. Maybe you'll hear something from there. The room of the senior officer and the woman has thick walls, I can hardly help you in this matter.
- Great, Revial! While senior officers are making grandiose strategic plans, junior officers are discussing tactics. It suits me! Take me there.
The innkeeper escorted d'Artagnan to the door of the closet and said in a whisper:
“Don’t make any noise here, Mr. Captain, because thin partitions allow sound to pass in both directions.”
The captain nodded, quietly opened the doors and disappeared into the closet. D'Artagnan heard a conversation between two guardsmen, from whose voices he recognized them as senior lieutenant d'Elsorte and lieutenant de Lortie.
“I think they’re just making fun of us,” said de Lortie. “We have to chase Captain d’Artagnan again, tracking down his carriage!” Of course, tracking him in a carriage is easier than chasing him on horseback, but we had simpler instructions that time.
“And at the same time we lost du Cloy,” said d’Elsorte. “It’s still not known what happened to him.”
“And instead of the captain, we chased in vain after some of his young doubles!” - continued de Lortie. “If these two had not come to his aid, we would have seized him and disemboweled him until he confessed for what purpose he was impersonating d’Artagnan!” There is clearly some kind of conspiracy behind all this. The captain started some kind of game.
- Someone taller is intriguing! - responded D'Elsorte. “If it had been necessary to capture Captain d’Artagnan, it could have been done two days ago, when he openly walked around Paris and even went to the Louvre and met with the King and Colbert!”
“If he wasn’t captured, then there was some reason,” de Lortie replied. - And now we have to tag along after him again! Although tracking down a carriage is much easier than chasing a horseman.
“But they imposed a commander on us that was not to our liking,” D’Elsorte said angrily. - For what merits did this yesterday’s junior lieutenant du Trabuson today become a captain and command us? And he drags his wife along with us!
“This is beyond my understanding,” de Lortie agreed. “I’ll just say that I’m extremely annoyed, and I think you are too.”
“I’m even more annoyed that I have to chase after a man whom I always respected, but now I hate, he caused us so much trouble!” - answered the senior lieutenant. “There is only one thing that pleases me in this whole situation. Du Trabuson gave permission to shoot both travelers as soon as we caught up with them, even if they did not resist. That's fine with me, since I wouldn't want to cross swords with d'Artagnan! It's better to shoot him right away!
“I completely agree with this,” confirmed de Lortie. — Captain d'Artagnan's sword is one of the deadliest swords in France, despite the age of its owner. He shoots very accurately, but here we can get ahead of him.
- Not only can we, but we must! D'Elsorte agreed. “Du Trabuson said that while he distracts the captain with conversations, we must, without wasting time, shoot both of them.” This is, of course, an effective tactic, but I am disgusted by such meanness.
“If such tactics are the only way to save our lives, I have nothing against it,” de Lortie objected. “Fighting even three of us against d’Artagnan is not a very joyful prospect, and considering that one cannot expect agility from du Trabuson, as far as I know his so-called courage and his fencing style, it turns out that there are only two of us against the captain.” This doesn't give us the best chance.
“That’s the only reason I didn’t tell du Trabuson to go to hell when he proposed this plan to us,” agreed d’Elsorte. — When I have to choose between nobility at the risk of my life and some deviations from the code of honor while guaranteeing its preservation, I choose the second option.
- How will we look our children in the eyes after such things? - De Sorti asked sadly.
- Who forces you to tell them about your affairs? “Let’s go to sleep, buddy,” replied D’Elsorte, who seemed uncomfortable with the topic being raised. “Tomorrow we have to leave at first light, today we rode without rest, I’m literally falling off my feet.”
Making sure that he would no longer hear anything important, d'Artagnan quietly left the closet and went to the stables. Having entered there, the captain thought about hammering small stones between the horses' horseshoes and hooves, but abandoned this idea because he loved horses too much. Therefore, he limited himself to emptying the powder bags tied to the saddles and filling them with powder received from the Indian. After that, he trimmed the lines on the saddles so that they would burst by mid-day or evening. Then he left the stable, paid the innkeeper generously, and carefully led out his horse, tied in the neighboring yard, adjacent to the inn at the back. Taking him at a pace to a distance from which the clatter of hooves could no longer be heard in the tavern, he took off the rags with which the horse's hooves were wrapped, jumped on his horse and rushed after his carriage.

Meanwhile, du Trabuson communicated with his companion in a way that would have left no doubt in the innkeeper Revial about the correctness of his guess, if he could observe this type of communication. Fortunately for both, the walls were soundproof, the doors were strong and the bolts on them were reliable, and besides, the innkeeper would not risk disturbing his guests without a call from them.
Having sated and tired each other with communication closer than friendship, the worthy spouses moved on to verbal communication.
“You’re so hot today, Olivia!” - de Trabuson noted with delight.
“You weren’t bad either, Didier,” Olivia replied. “I’m so excited by the thought of the dangerous adventure we’ve gotten ourselves into!”
“Only you got involved in it, and no one asked me,” Didier replied.
- One might think that you are dissatisfied with the assignment! - Olivia exclaimed. — Do you know many assignments, completing which you can skip two ranks?
“Mr. Colbert gave me these titles not for future merits, but for past ones,” Didier answered proudly.
- Don't be an ass, honey! Olivia laughed. - Where have you met nobles who generously pay for past services on the condition that they do not need future even more complex and important services? There are no such people, and not only in France, but throughout the world, I believe!
- But he already gave me a captain’s patent! - Didier disagreed.
“He has already shown how easily he can tear such papers, hasn’t he?” - Olivia did not let up. “He gave you a way to carry out his new assignment, nothing more.” I am sure that if you do not carry out his instructions properly, he will take away both this patent and the junior lieutenant’s patent, and send you to serve as a simple guardsman.
“I remember now that that’s exactly what he said,” Didier agreed sadly.
- Here you see! - Olivia said triumphantly. “You're lucky to have a wife who can foresee things and give you some useful advice.”
- And what advice will you give me this time? - Didier asked.
“The main thing is not that Colbert is satisfied with what you have already done, but that he needs you because of what you can still do for him,” Olivia replied. “Therefore, now you need to think not only about how to carry out the assignment given to you, but also about demonstrating to Colbert that only you could carry it out as accurately as he would like, and, perhaps, even more.” more precisely. You should also think about how you will report on the results of the trip.
- How can you fulfill an order more accurately than it was given? - Didier asked.
- Think and answer, what will confuse Colbert most after the assignment is completed? - Olivia asked, and without giving her husband time to think, she added. “The most unpleasant thing for him will be that several people know too much about this assignment. Therefore, it will be pleasant for him if those of your subordinates who carry out the double murder will not be able to tell anyone anything, and you, for your part, will tell him that the death of those whom we are pursuing occurred by accident. It will be better if you have evidence that you made every effort to save both the persecuted and the pursuers, but you failed.
- Who will believe in such a fairy tale? Do you think that Monsieur Colbert can believe that two of my guards killed two pursued people and died themselves, while not a single scratch appeared on me? — Didier was surprised.
“Firstly, people don’t believe in what is more likely, but in what is more profitable for them to believe,” Olivia answered, “and secondly, I didn’t say at all that you wouldn’t have a single scratch on you.” A small wound, not life-threatening, will confirm your heroism and bring you closer to the rank of major.
- My good girl! - Didier exclaimed. - Your advice is very valuable to me. It's great that you give them to me sometimes.
- Of course, wonderful! - Olivia agreed. “You would have been good if you had not listened to me and challenged D’Aunay to a duel, as you were planning to do.” Then I might already be a widow, since you are not the best swordsman. And so the task was completed, and you returned alive, without a single injury, and you were given a new rank, and there is not a single person in the world who could make accusations against you. I hope no one saw how you dealt with him?
“Nobody, it was empty,” Didier reassured Olivia.
“That’s great,” Olivia replied. - Let's go to bed already, we won't be able to sleep tomorrow.

XC. Trap

At dusk, du Chantet approached the ship and saw that there were no sailors on the shore. Believing that the captain had given the order for the entire crew to settle down for the night on the ship, he also climbed the ladder onto the ship and quietly called out to the captain. Nobody answered him. Then du Chantet opened the door to the captain's cabin and stepped into the darkness.
At that same second, he felt four strong hands grab him, and at the same time du Chante felt the touch of the cold barrel of a musket on his cheek.
“Not a sound, buddy,” said a voice from the darkness. - Resistance will not help you, we already have all of you. In the name of the King you are under arrest.

Porthos had a wonderful evening playing cards. The generous Saint-Mars persuaded him to drink a couple more cups of a magical drink called “boche”. After the last cup, the baron felt how tired he was and suggested that the owner finish the games and retire.
- The last sip for a sound sleep, Mister Baron! - exclaimed Saint-Mars and refilled Porthos' cup.
“I don’t think this will do me any good...” said Porthos. “I’m already literally falling off my feet and I just want to get to my bed.” But don’t throw away such a wonderful drink! - With these words, Porthos poured the contents of the goblet into himself and resolutely placed it on the table. - Just not a drop more! — he said decisively and headed to the bedroom provided to him.

The next morning Porthos could not wake up for a long time. When he opened his eyes with difficulty, he discovered that he could not move his arms or legs, since he was tied with the strongest ropes.

- What the hell! - he swore. “You have strange ideas about hospitality, Mister Commandant!” — to these phrases the baron added several epithets, which we will omit.
At the sound of his voice sending curses at Saint-Mars, the recipient of these curses himself entered the bedroom.

“I hope you slept well, Mister Baron?” - he inquired.
- Go to hell, Saint-Mars! - Porthos shouted angrily. - What the hell are you doing?
“I regret doing this to an old comrade,” said Saint-Mars. “However, this is the King’s order.” As soon as Captain d'Artagnan took my prisoner, in accordance with the order of the King, who ordered him to do this, a couple of hours later a messenger arrived with a new order from the King. If you please, I will read it to you.

“Order of the King to the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
Any persons arriving on the island of Saint-Marguerite for any purpose are to be detained and held under arrest at any cost until the arrival of a special investigative commission. Let everyone in, don't let anyone out. If possible, establish the goals of arrival, using abstract conversations and the appearance of a frank conversation until the moment when the arrivals try to leave the island or, even more so, take someone with them from the island.
For failure to comply with this order, the perpetrator will go to trial.
King Louis XIV ."

“As you can judge for yourself, Monsieur Baron, I carried out this order exactly,” said Saint-Mars. “I tried not to cause any injury and, if possible, not to cause unnecessary inconvenience to my visitors, but I could not let you leave the island.” Relax! I believe that the commission of inquiry will not be long in coming.
“I have no questions for you, and we are your prisoners,” Porthos sighed. “Bose was great, but the last two cups had a different taste. You put something in there. I never expected such meanness from a former colleague.
“What you call meanness, Mister Baron, is concern for your health and the health of the soldiers entrusted to me.” If I had ordered them to take you by force, both sides would have suffered, but this way we resolved all the problems amicably.
“I hope you didn’t harm my comrades,” said Porthos in an offended tone.
“They’re fine, there are enough casemates in our fortress.” If you wish to move to a similar room, I can make arrangements, but it seems to me that you will be quite comfortable in this bedroom. It is also locked, and although the windows are not barred, you will not be able to escape from such a height. In addition, the ropes are strong enough, you will not be able to break them.
“I haven’t tried this at full strength yet,” Porthos thought to himself. “We’ll see whose will take it.”

XCI. Messenger without a message

Aramis sat again in his office in Madrid, preparing to write a letter to Athos. He was wondering where to start so as not to emphasize his participation in saving his friend. At that moment the doors opened and Basel entered.
“Monseigneur, a dove has arrived from du Chante, but there is no message on its leg.”
- Indeed? - Aramis was surprised. - It turns out that he lost his message?
“Impossible, monsignor,” replied Basel. “Du Chante always tied his messages with a very strong thread, making five turns, and secured them with several knots.
“In that case, this dove broke free without du Chantet’s intention,” Aramis agreed. - How many pigeons did he have left, Bazin?
“Another one besides this one, monsignor,” replied Bazin.
“In that case, if the second dove arrives soon, it means that du Chante has been attacked and the cages have been broken,” said Aramis worriedly. “Thank you, Bazin, if the second dove arrives, please let me know immediately.”
After Bazin left, Aramis fell into thought.
“So du Chantet has apparently been captured. Well, he doesn't know that much. However, I did not give him any special instructions, except to keep d'Artagnan from active action in case of a large number of spies near the island. Well, we’ll wait for developments.”
After this, Aramis returned to his reflection on the text of the letter to Athos.

An hour later, Bazin came in to inform Aramis that the second pigeon had also arrived, and also without any note.
“Well, Bazin, Agent du Chantet has performed admirably, I would be sorry to lose such an assistant, but we will not expose ourselves to extreme danger to save him.” My last trip to France almost cost me enormously. We will do things differently. I intend to legalize my stay in France, protected by diplomatic immunity. To do this, I will have to get to know Charles II of Spain better. I already planned to do this, but I'll have to speed things up a little. Bazin, you must soon buy up the lands adjacent to this castle. I intend to convert this marquisate into a dukedom and put it in my name. I suppose I should become a Spanish grandee as quickly as possible. I have enough money and connections. From now on I will be called Duke d'Alameda.
Bazin bowed and left.

XCII. Indecisiveness

Philip, of course, understood that by taking the place of the King, he would gain not only his mother and brother, but also other family members, including his wife. If he imagined ordinary communication from the books he read, then no one taught him how to communicate with his wife. Meanwhile, the King had been married for several years; in addition, as Philip knew, he also had a mistress, Mademoiselle da La Valliere. In relation to Mademoiselle, Philip made a promise to himself to separate, to find a reason for separation - this was not the biggest problem among the problems that arose in communicating with representatives of the fair sex.
He understood that he could delay communication with his wife for several days, which would not arouse any suspicion, since Louis had not recently spoiled Maria Theresa with his visits. After some thought, Philip decided to start with a matter that seemed simpler to him, so he went to pay a visit to Louise in order to announce the breakup to her.
Since Philippe already knew both about the place and about the usual time when Louis came to Louise, but decided to use this method of meeting in order to announce to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re his decision to break off his close relationship.
He knocked on Mademoiselle's door with his cane in exactly the same way that the day before, without realizing his presence in the bushes of the alley, Louis had knocked on the same doors with the same cane.
- Your Majesty, come in! - Louise said, opening the doors.
“Good evening, mademoiselle,” answered Philip. “Last time our meeting did not take place, and I see this as a sign of fate.
“Your Majesty, I am extremely sorry that I was not able to brighten up your loneliness on the evening you are talking about,” Louise said obediently. “I hope that this evening will allow me to make amends for the unpleasant impression made on you, the culprit of which is my fickle character and some unpleasant news I received the day before.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself for anything, madam,” Philip objected. “It’s probably the Lord, who controls our lives, who is giving us a sign that our relationship is not approved by him,” Philip added, trying to build a logical bridge to the need to part as gently as possible.
“Divine providence, which has linked our destinies into one, cannot condemn Your Majesty, since in your kingdom you are always right, no matter what decision you make regarding who deserves your attention, when and to what extent,” replied Louise. “As for condemning my actions, I know everything about myself, and I don’t look for excuses for myself. I only hope that the moment Your Majesty decides that he is bored with Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, I will immediately go to a monastery and devote my whole life to prayers. I will pray, first of all, for you, Your Majesty, and if the Almighty also finds in his heart a grain of pity for me, if he does not forgive, but at least understands my actions, I will consider myself the happiest of mortals. If he does not forgive and does not understand, I will gladly accept the fate that he chooses for me, and I hope to endure all the punishments that will be assigned to me both on earth and in the other world.
This was the first time Philip had encountered such self-denial.
- Mademoiselle, you should not put our common guilt before the Lord on yourself alone! - he said. “I am no less guilty than you for our apostasy from one of the Lord’s commandments, and I am ready to answer for this in heaven.”
“Your Majesty,” Louise answered warmly, “I am glad that you look at our weakness from a moral standpoint and will obey any of your orders!”
“Our friendship, I believe, offends two people on earth,” Philip continued. - This is, firstly, the Queen, and secondly, your groom.
“The Queen obviously has many advantages over me, Your Majesty, and your decision to return to her completely and give your heart to her alone I fully accept and approve,” Louise said with humility.
“Your humility frightens me, madam!” - Philip exclaimed. “You didn’t say anything about your fianc;.” Are you going to recognize his rights to your hand and heart?
“Your Majesty is well aware that my heart is given only to you,” Louise answered with a sigh. “What is given to one man forever cannot be passed on to another.”
- Perhaps you are too cruel to your fianc;? - said Philip sadly, who sincerely hoped that the injustice committed by Louis towards the Viscount de Bragelonne could still be corrected.
“Unfortunately, Your Majesty, the man whom you persistently call my fianc; can no longer worry about the question of who I gave my heart to.” “The Viscount died in battle,” Louise answered, with these words tears appeared in the corners of her eyes, which she was ashamed of, not wanting to show the King that she could have at least some feelings for another man, even if these feelings were just childish affection.
- This is a great grief! - Philip exclaimed. - You are crying, Louise, therefore you loved him!
“These tears are tears about the life of a man who has always been my friend, but was never either a groom or a lover,” Louise objected. “I can’t be responsible for what he imagined about me, but that doesn’t stop me from regretting his lost life.”
“I share your grief, madam,” Philip said sincerely.
“Thus, by rejecting me, Your Majesty should not think that he is returning me to a person to whom I never belonged, and who no longer cares about earthly worries. But for me, any of the other two reasons why you decided to reject me is enough. Either I did not please Your Majesty in some way, or maybe I was just tired, or Your Majesty felt a new surge of love for the Queen. Any of these reasons is sufficient, but even if there are no reasons for your decision, I will still gratefully accept any order from Your Majesty. Order me to retire to a monastery, and there I will give birth to the child I carry under my heart, your child.
“Are you crazy, madam!” - Philip exclaimed in horror. “Giving birth to a child within the monastery walls means exposing him to suffering and torment even before birth!”
Philip remembered his fate, the fate of a prince born in secret, who spent his entire life in captivity, since his royal parents decided to hide him from people. Louis's child, Philippe's nephew, should not repeat his fate.
“Madam, your child will be born as he should be, in the palace, I will give him a title, and he will live a happy life, I promise you that!” - Philip exclaimed passionately.
- Oh, don't say that, Your Majesty! - Louise exclaimed. “You called him my child, which means you don’t recognize him as yours!” It's horrible! I must go to a monastery if you abandon your child. Give up on me a thousand times, but don't give up on him, this innocent unborn child is not guilty of our sin!
“Louise, I just made a mistake,” Philip answered, seeing how Louise was suffering. - Of course, this is our common child. Whatever gender he is born, I promise that his life will be bright and joyful, I will give him the serene life that should be given to the son of a King, said Philippe, thinking that if his father, Louis XIII, if he had looked at this object, perhaps he would have been, although not a king, but a completely happy and free man, a nobleman, a prince.
- Thank you, Your Majesty! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! - Louise exclaimed.
With these words, she fell on her knees in front of Philip, grabbed his hand and pressed her lips to his hand. Tears of gratitude and happiness warmed down her cheeks and burned Philip’s hand.
“Madam...” said the discouraged Philip. “You’re tormenting yourself like that in vain.” I ask you to calm down.
With these words, Philip affectionately put his arm around Louise's shoulders. Louise returned the hug by hugging Philip's knees and resting her head on his knees.
Philip felt a hitherto unfamiliar trembling all over his body, pleasant goosebumps ran down his back, the aroma of Louise’s hair turned his head. Unable to control his desire, he buried his face in her hair and imprinted a tender, youthful kiss on Mademoiselle’s forehead. An unknown wave of feelings completely overwhelmed his being, he felt an irresistible desire to caress Louise, felt that this desire of his did not remain unrequited by mademoiselle, after which he whispered:
- Louise, I never knew that...
“Be silent, sir...” Mademoiselle de La Valli;re whispered in response and sealed Philip’s lips with her own.
At this point, the author modestly retires and invites readers to follow his example.
 
XCIII. Attack at Dusk

- Listen, d'Artagnan! - exclaimed the King, on the second day of the journey. “I am grateful to you for freeing me from this terrible mask and untying my hands, however, I am a living person!” I need to take a walk, stretch my limbs, otherwise you will bring not me, but my corpse to the fortress. I want to eat, finally, sitting at the table like a person, and not eating this rubbish that you buy for me in the tavern, washing it all down with wine, while the carriage continues on its way and I risk choking at any moment!
“Your grievances are well founded, Your Majesty, but I cannot allow you to visit the tavern,” answered the captain.
“If one of your assistants managed to escort me, and I, as you see, did not run away, then the two of you, undoubtedly, do not have to fear that I will run away, taking advantage of the fact that you allow me to get out of the carriage.”
- But I allow this to you with sufficient regularity, Your Majesty! - D'Artagnan objected. — You regularly take walks in nature.
“I want to go to a decent tavern and eat decent food, damn you!” - demanded the King in a capricious tone.
“I mourn any manifestation of violence against you, Your Majesty, that is not necessary,” the captain replied. “Show me a way to satisfy your demand without risk to you and me, and I will do what you ask.”
“It’s quite dark now,” the King said irritably. - If you insist, I will put on this stupid iron mask so that no one sees or recognizes me, after which we will go to the first decent tavern we meet on the road. You will rent us a separate room, and we will order decent food in it. On the way back, I'm also ready to put on this disgusting mask.
- Well, that's great! - the captain agreed. — The nearest tavern will be soon.

Finally, the carriage drove up to the inn. D'Artagnan went out and held the doors, inviting the King to follow his example.
As soon as the King set foot on the ground, four horsemen quickly approached the carriage, who, obviously, had overtaken it and were waiting in ambush.
- Listen, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - one of the riders turned to the captain. - Let me ask you a few questions regarding your prisoner and the purpose of your journey!
“I’m listening to you, my dear du Trabuson, if I’m not mistaken.” - The captain answered. - Sorry, but you didn’t introduce yourself, and it’s quite dark here, I could be wrong, since I recognize you only by your voice.
At that moment, d'Artagnan heard the clicks of the triggers of four muskets, which were held in both hands by two of the guards. None of the muskets fired.
“ Apparently, du Trabuson, you are not so much interested in my answer to your question as in the opportunity to shoot me like a partridge,” d’Artagnan answered calmly. - Gentlemen, throw away your muskets, in this case I am ready to do the same and cross swords with you! Otherwise I will shoot.
With these words, d'Artagnan grabbed two muskets from his belt and aimed them at the guardsmen who were trying to kill him.
- Shoot, you idiots! - Du Trabuson shouted. - What are you waiting for?
“Don’t try,” answered d’Artagnan. “Your muskets do not contain the kind of gunpowder that can help you in your bad manners of communicating with peaceful travelers.” But I will teach you some manners. Muskets on the ground, quickly!
At that moment, the fourth horseman, who was behind the front three, pulled a musket from his saddle bag and pointed it at the King.
- Weapons to the ground, Captain d'Artagnan! - exclaimed this horseman. - Otherwise I will shoot your prisoner!
“Shoot, madam,” the captain answered calmly. “Your gunpowder is no better than your friends’ gunpowder.”
The horsewoman coolly pointed her musket at the King and pulled the trigger. A deafening shot rang out and the King fell to the ground.
- Damn it! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - The damn woman saved a pinch of gunpowder!
With these words, he jumped up to the horse on which Olivia de Trabuson was sitting, and pointed his sword at the rider.
“Madam, I don’t fight women, but if circumstances force me, I will do it, believe me!” - he said. “I ask you to drop your weapons and dismount.”
At that moment, du Trabuson pointed his horse straight at the captain, knocked him down and would have trampled him if the captain had not managed to deftly roll to the side.
- Let's leave! - Du Trabuson shouted and was the first to rush into the darkness.
The other three horsemen also spurred their horses, hastening to disappear into the night.
Francois jumped out of the carriage and fired in pursuit with two muskets. One of the riders fell on his side and after a while fell off his horse.
Francois ran after the horsemen, but they disappeared from sight. Meanwhile, d'Artagnan hastened to approach the King.
- Your Majesty, forgive me! I didn't save you! - exclaimed the captain.
- Take off that stupid mask! - he heard the King’s muffled voice. - I have a terrible headache. I think I'm injured.
- You are alive! - D'Artagnan exclaimed, quickly running up to the King and taking off his mask.
Indeed, the King was alive. Olivia shot the King in the head, hoping to kill him with one shot. Fortunately, in the darkness, she did not notice the iron mask on him and shot at the silhouette. The Iron Mask took the bullet, however, the King received a serious blow to the head. Since there were soft rag pads inside the mask so as not to injure the prisoner's head, the King did not receive any wounds.
- Damn rubbish! - the King grumbled, tearing off his mask with hatred.
- Don't scold this mask, Your Majesty! - objected the captain. “She just saved your life.”
Seeing the mark of a musket bullet, the King was frightened by the thought of what could have happened to him if he had not been wearing a mask. However, he quickly pulled himself together and declared:
- The Lord protects me! This is proof that you are wrong, captain!
- If so, the Lord sent his blessing to you only on the condition that you still put on this mask. Therefore, we will not tempt him and next time we will also use it.
“Do you think there will be more attacks on us?” - the King asked anxiously.
“ I believe that we will repel them,” answered d’Artagnan. - Well, what's wrong with him, Francois?
“On the spot,” replied de Perrin.
“Let me take a look, while you take care of His Majesty,” said the captain.
Approaching the dead horseman, he identified Guardsman de Lortie.
“Monsieur captain,” said Francois. — Luckily, loud music is playing in the tavern and no one inside heard these two shots. I suggest we leave this place and let those who find it deal with it. We'll stop at the next tavern. I'll go a little ahead in case of an ambush. I think that their muskets are damaged and that they no longer have gunpowder, but three swords, one of which belongs to a woman, do not frighten me. We'll see who wins.
“Leaving a guardsman unburied is not Christian, Francois,” the captain objected. “Besides, Madame’s musket, as you can see, is in good working order.” Obviously, this beast does not leave gunpowder in the powder bags, but takes it with her to the tavern. Well, it's a commendable habit. But we cannot risk His Majesty's life.

After this, d'Artagnan went into the inn and said to the innkeeper:
- My dear, I am the captain of the royal musketeers, carrying out the King’s instructions to escort a dangerous state criminal. Here's the order. We were just attacked by robbers. We shot one of them, three managed to escape. Clean it up there. We need rest and food; he should also take care of our horses and carriage. You can keep the scoundrel's horse, since robbers are outlaws. We take these two rooms, which are closer to the door. If someone lives in them, evict them. Order of the King. Serve the best food you have.
The innkeeper hastened to carry out the captain's orders.

XCIV. Night at the tavern

“Your Majesty, your wish is fulfilled, you have finally received hot food, help yourself,” said d’Artagnan. — Please forgive me that the table setting does not reach the level of the Louvre. You'll have to come to terms with this.
“When I return to the throne, I will order you to be executed quickly and painlessly, captain,” the King answered coldly, starting to eat.
“Your Majesty won’t even take into account that the mask he urgently asked you to wear saved your life?” - asked the captain with a smile.
“That’s exactly what I took into account when I said that you will die quickly and painlessly, don’t ask me for a greater favor,” Louis answered.
- It sounds very tempting, but I will try to avoid such mercy from Your Majesty, but for now - bonapeti! - answered d'Artagnan.
Cheerful at the thought that one day he would return to the throne, the King began to eat with great appetite.
- By the way, captain, how did you manage to take the prisoner from the fortress? - he asked, spreading foie gras on the thinnest salty biscuit.
“I took advantage of your order, Your Majesty, which you wrote with my own hand under my dictation while in the Bastille,” answered d’Artagnan.
“ But the order was addressed to de Bezmo!” - exclaimed the King.
“Your Majesty forgot to mention the name of the commandant and the name of the fortress, but I did not remind you,” the captain answered modestly.
- Scoundrel! Now I remember that I wrote everything under your dictation exactly as you dictated! - the King was indignant, without interrupting his meal. - It turns out that even then you were planning a malicious state crime!?
“I haven’t thought about it yet, but I haven’t ruled it out,” answered d’Artagnan. “Your Majesty greatly offended me by attacking all my friends at once.” I would forgive you for the assassination attempt, not just me.
“And my actions were absolutely correct, as is proven by your subsequent actions,” said the King completely dispassionately, cutting off a perfectly fried goose leg and pouring it with an exquisite garlic sauce.
- My subsequent actions, Your Majesty, were an absolutely correct reaction to your actions, it all depends on how you look at these two phenomena. A subsequent action cannot be the cause of a previous one,” objected d’Artagnan.
“So you are also a philosopher,” the King nodded, taking a large sip of Tokaji. “And I thought that you were just a conspirator.”
“Conspiracy is not my profession, Your Majesty, all my life I only wanted to honestly serve my fatherland, but it is impossible to obey some orders without being a philosopher,” answered the captain. - Only after realizing that orders are not given by the smartest people can you calmly experience this situation. Every person has the right to make mistakes, but for some reason many people abuse this right too much.
“You still won’t be able to use your conspiracy, Mister Captain, since I managed to take some measures,” Louis said with some gloating, starting to dessert. “An extremely unpleasant surprise awaits you.”
“The profession of an officer teaches you to expect unpleasant surprises at any moment, Your Majesty,” answered the captain. - Any order written by you can be canceled by the order of the one who now occupies your throne.
“Provided that this usurper knows about this order and is aware of the results of its execution,” Louis agreed. “But in this case, these conditions will not be met, so you will soon find out that you have caught not only me, but also yourself, Mr. Captain, and then I will laugh to my heart’s content.”
“I have no objection, Your Majesty, to your gaiety,” said d’Artagnan, who, seeing that the King was already sufficiently full, allowed himself to join the meal. - When the King is in a good mood, it is a good sign for his subjects.
“This is not always the case, Mister Captain,” the King smiled, and this time his smile could be called a snake’s. “I think that on St. Bartholomew’s Night, Charles IX was in an excellent mood.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, you made me look at you with a sober look again,” d’Artagnan answered dryly. - Francois, what are you waiting for? Join us for dinner, although His Majesty, out of forgetfulness, did not invite us, we have the right to our share, especially since I am paying for dinner.
Francois did not keep himself waiting, since his young body had long demanded something more substantial than table conversations and simple contemplation of the dishes being absorbed by the King.

“Apparently, the King managed to write some kind of order, which, in his opinion, should be a surprise for me,” thought d’Artagnan, lying in bed. “I should find out about him later, but he should be a big nuisance for me.” Well, this is, in all likelihood, an order that is sent to de Saint-Mars. What could it be? This cannot be an order not to accept the prisoner, since Louis could not have known that I would take him there. Therefore, it could have been an order not to extradite the prisoner. But how can such an order harm me if I have already taken Philip from there? It will only be to my advantage, because I am taking Louis back to the fortress under the guise of Philip. So this could be an order directing Saint-Mars to arrest me? Most likely, he is ordered to arrest anyone who comes to the island! After all, he could not know that this person would be me! Well, I was lucky that I managed to pick up Philippe before Saint-Mars received this order. However, I also had the King’s order. In this case, the commandant would have to solve the difficult problem of figuring out which order is the most important, since the first order contradicts the second. There was no date on the order that I brought, and I could always claim that it was written last! So, I have one more problem, and it will arise upon arrival on the island of Saint-Marguerite! Thank you, Your Majesty, for warning me!”

XCV. Madame Olivia's Pigeons

Three horsemen rode up to the Two Pistols inn and dismounted, giving their horses to the groom who arrived in time.
One of the riders unfastened a small bag from the saddle.
“Didier, take the bag of pigeons,” said this horseman in a female voice.
“And why are you carrying this rubbish around with you, Olivia?” asked Didier de Trabuson, for it was he.
“We’ll talk later, but now take this and go to the inn and hurry up,” Olivia replied.
In the room provided to her, Olivia threw the musket on the bed and busied herself with the pigeons. After feeding and drinking everyone, she returned them to the bag, after which she went to the table with writing materials. Not finding enough thin paper, she took the piece of paper she needed from a pocket on her bag and began to write the following text:

“The prisoner is killed, de Lortie died in the battle. We are pursuing the captain."

After that, Olivia took out one of the pigeons, wrapped its leg with a strip with a note, wound several layers of thread on top of the note, and, tying the thread in a knot, released the pigeon out the window.

“Now Monsieur Colbert will know how faithfully you serve him, Didier,” she told her husband. “And remember, bungler, that gunpowder should not be left in saddlebags.” I hope this incident taught you something for the rest of your life.
“If only I were as smart as you after everything happened!” - Didier exclaimed, ignoring the comparison of him with a bungler.
- Very funny. - Olivia objected. “Only I wasn’t smart later, but exactly when it was needed.” It’s not for nothing that my father rose to the rank of major, while you are still only a captain. Well, never mind, with my help you will, God willing, become a colonel, or even a general!
- Yes, my goat! - Didier replied. - Come to me!
- Sleep! - Olivia snapped and took a bed by the door.

XCVI. Athos' decision

The reader will probably ask us why we ignore the noble Comte de La F;re and his no less noble son, the Viscount de Bragelonne. The only excuse for such inattention can be how quickly events around the King and his brother developed. Let us return, however, to that small conversation that took place a few days before the events we are describing.
“My son, we have thoroughly enjoyed our walks in the mountains and it’s time to finally get down to business,” Athos said to Rudder after returning from another walk.
“I will gladly submit to you, dear father,” answered Raoul. - But what business can two nobles have here, in this wilderness?
“I wanted to tell you the same thing, my son!” - Athos answered. - And the question itself contains the answer. Two nobles have no business in this wilderness at a time when our friends are likely to need our help. We're leaving for France in two hours.
—Have you, father, received any news from there? - Raoul asked anxiously.
“If I had received news, you would have already known about it, my son, and we would have gone there immediately,” answered Athos. “But the absence of news in itself is news.” Until I make sure that our friends, d'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis are alive and well and are not in danger or in prison, my soul will not find peace. Men like them must either die in defense of France or must live; any other fate would be an insult to them and an irreparable grief to their friends. If my friends are fighting, we will join them; if they are in disgrace, we will share their misfortunes with them; if they are in joy, we will share their joy with them. If they don't need us, let's hug them and go on our way.
- To Blois? - asked Raoul.
- Forget about Blois. This place does not bring us happiness,” answered Athos. - First of all, we will visit Madame de Chevreuse. If anything worth mentioning happens in France, she knows about it. In addition, do not forget, Raoul, that you must treat this woman with respect, because this is what I am telling you. But don't ask why.
“I gladly obey your order, Count, especially since I myself feel an extreme affection for this respectable lady,” answered Raoul.
“I didn’t expect anything else from you, my son.” Let's go! - concluded Athos.

XCVII. Duchess de Chevreuse

Once the wife of the all-powerful Charles d Albert, Duke of Luynes, she now bore the name Duchess de Chevreuse. Her first husband, the Duke of Luynes, was the man who subsequently introduced and recommended to Louis XIII the then little-known Richelieu, the same one who later became the great cardinal and first minister of France. The Duchess de Chevreuse, n;e Marie de Rohan, involved in such great events, never ceased to influence the fate of the French kingdom throughout her life.
She was taught to intrigue by her first husband, the Duke de Luynes, who pleased Louis, then the young Dauphin, so much that he chose him as a friend and confidant in all his amusements. This handsome man immediately noticed a charming representative of the noble family of de Rohan, who at the age of eighteen was brought by her almost disgraced and once very influential father to the royal court so that she could make small company with the young wife of the Dauphin, Anne of Austria, a scion of the Austrian and Spanish royal houses. The Duke, already forty at that time, immediately proposed to her. The de Luynes spouses managed to become the most desirable partners for the royal couple in all the undertakings undertaken by young Louis and his wife. It was rumored that all four of them sometimes slept under the same blanket. After Ravaillac's insidious blow with a dagger, which took the life of the glorious King Henry IV , Louis's father, the latter began to be called Louis XIII , but for a long time remained King only in name. Charles de Luynes persuaded Louis to get rid of the hated Concini spouses and become a full-fledged King himself. Young Louis ordered the murder of the Marquis' mother's favorite, Concino Concini, in front of his own mother, the Dowager Queen, and ordered the execution of the Marquis's wife, Galigai. By banishing his own mother, Queen Marie de' Medici, to Blois, Louis finally established himself as sovereign. After this, favors in the form of positions and titles rained down on the Duke de Luynes as if from a cornucopia. And although de Luynes was an unfit statesman, he remained the closest friend of Louis XIII , while Marie de Luynes became closer and closer to Anne of Austria.
The Queen Mother did not accept her departure from big politics and, with the help of the Duke d'Epernon, a former minion of Henry III , the creator of the royal personal guard, consisting of forty-five musketeers, gathered a militia, which she directed against her own son, Louis XIII , however, the only What she managed to achieve was that the King gave up Angers and Chinon under her hand, but forbade her to return to Paris. Then the Queen Mother started a civil war, which significantly spoiled the King’s affairs. Fortunately for Louis XIII, de Luynes introduced him at this time to Richelieu, who had an excellent understanding of the problems of domestic and foreign policy. Not without the help of Richelieu at Pont de Seux, the King inflicted a crushing defeat on his mother, after which the same Richelieu served as a messenger of peace between mother and son.
Meanwhile, the King’s young favorite, Charles de Luynes, gradually became the most influential man in all of France, since Louis XIII himself was very reluctant to engage in state affairs, and his favorite came up with new entertainments for the King, in which, of course, not only the sovereign and his favorite, but also their wives. Mary's friendship with the Queen strengthened so much that even when Mary inadvertently caused the Queen's miscarriage by persuading her to roll on the slippery floor of the palace, this sad episode did not lead to their breakup, although the King was very angry with Marie de Luynes, it was so unfortunate falling on his wife. Maria did not limit herself to this powerful influence on the fate of France. When her husband, the Duke of Luynes, fell out of favor due to excessive arrogance, and soon died, either from illness, or from grief, or perhaps from some third reason, his cheerful widow did not grieve for long, so that her two children, Louis-Charles and Anna-Marie, quickly received a stepfather in the person of the same age as Charles de Luynes, Mary’s first husband, Claude of Lorraine, Duke de Chevreuse, the son of that same Henry of Guise, nicknamed the Marked One, who dealt with Admiral de Coligny and inspired Charles IX to carry out the treacherous massacre of the Huguenots on St. Bartholomew's Night on August 24, 1572, when only by a miracle did Henry of Navarre, the future King of France Henry IV , father of Louis XIII and grandfather of Louis XIV , not die . Since then, Maria began to be called the Duchess de Chevreuse, under which she went down in history and under which our dear readers know her from our novels about the musketeers. The ability to subtly intrigue, which Mary acquired from her first husband, remained her favorite and main occupation, which is explained by her opinion that the entire royal family of France is just a means to create happiness for Mary, which she understood as power, wealth and nobility .
At first, Maria became very close friends with Richelieu, the protege of her first husband. She even encouraged Anna of Austria to have a relationship with him behind the King’s back, however, the Queen was afraid that the First Minister, who already almost had all of France in her hands, would use her only as a means to further strengthen her power, or by increasing her influence through her to the King, or by discrediting her in the eyes of the King in order to gain even greater trust, not only in matters of politics, but also in the field of family affairs, which for Louis XIII was a much more important area .
When Richelieu began to rush Mary with her mediation affairs, she came up with a dangerous joke, telling the cardinal that the Queen was eager to see him dance the sarabande, after which she would no longer be able to resist the cardinal’s insistence. Indeed, in his youth Richelieu was an excellent dancer, but such entertainment did not fit with his cardinal title. Maria came up with an entertainment for Anna, which consisted of persuading him to perform a hot dance, characterized by a rich rhythmic pattern, which requires a certain dexterity and looseness from the dancer. To make the performance more spectacular, the Queen persuaded the cardinal to dress in the appropriate dancer's costume. She told the cardinal that no one would see him except her, and only the musicians were hiding behind the screen. When Richelieu had almost completed his dance and was expecting a reward in the form of the Queen’s favor, he heard a woman’s laughter from behind the screen. Then he quickly ran up to the screen and pushed it aside, finding behind it not only the musicians, but also the Duchess de Chevreuse in company with the King’s brother. From then on, the duchess and the cardinal became sworn enemies, which did not prevent them from forming an alliance from time to time to resolve matters in which they were both interested.
So, for example, one day Richelieu learned how much the Queen was shocked by Buckingham’s antics , who appeared on the occasion of the wedding of the Duke of Orleans with Princess Henrietta, daughter of King Charles I. The duke's trick was that, having appeared at the French court as an envoy of Charles I , with whom he also had more than friendly relations, similar to those in which de Luynes was with Louis XIII , the duke, as if by chance, touched the thread that held the thousand pearls strewn with his ceremonial suit. The pearls rolled across the floor, and the courtiers immediately rushed to collect them throughout the hall, which created quite a commotion. At this moment, no one looked at either the Duke or the Queen, but Buckingham pretended that nothing significant had happened and continued, without stopping, to admire the beauty of Anne of Austria, which did not go unnoticed on her part. When they began to offer him handfuls of jewelry collected from the floor, he simply waved it off, saying that those who collected them could keep them. Rich, handsome, generous and in love with her, Buckingham did not leave her indifferent. Having learned how much this prank shocked Anna, as well as appreciating the appearance and brilliant luxury of the English envoy, Richelieu decided, with the help of the duchess, to discredit the Queen, helping to strengthen her partial attitude towards Buckingham. Maria passionately began to promote the rapprochement between Anna and the Duke.
After some time, while walking along the alleys, the Queen and the Duke entered a labyrinth made of bay leaf bushes, trimmed so that the bushes formed solid walls. In the center of the labyrinth there was a small gazebo, where the Queen and the Duke entered. The court ladies were somewhat behind the loving couple. Suddenly, a cry from Anna of Austria reached their ears, apparently expressing fear or dissatisfaction, however, it was possible that it was just a cry of surprise. The courtiers rushed to save the Queen and found her in a very embarrassed state; they noted some disorder in her clothes, as well as in the Duke’s clothes. The court talkers did not fail to tell this incident to the King, adding to the story, apparently, very significant speech embellishments created from their own imagination and speculation. Buckingham was immediately removed from France at the insistence of Louis XIII .
The Cardinal decided to use this episode to further cool the relationship between the King and Queen, for which he asked Maria de Chevreuse to facilitate the establishment of correspondence between Anne and Buckingham. At first, Maria warmed up Anna’s feelings solely on the instructions of Richelieu, however, over time, becoming convinced that the Queen was a more reliable guarantor of career growth for her than the cardinal, she completely sided with her friend in this matter, as in all subsequent ones. However, this did not prevent the duchess’s brother, the Duke of Rochefort, from completely defending the interests of the cardinal and joining the fight against his own sister.
Our readers know how, at the cost of incredible efforts, d'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramis managed to save the Queen's honor in a piquant story with diamond pendants.
After these events, the charming conspirator did not calm down at all. She decided to overthrow Richelieu and was ready to use all her charms to do this. At first, she wanted to bring Aramis to her side for this, but he declared that he, a clergyman, was not fit to fight against the head of the French Catholic Church.
“Madam, I’m ready for almost any madness for you,” answered Aramis. “I am ready to obstruct the affairs that His Holiness is doing behind His Majesty’s back, but I am not ready to shed the blood of a sacred person who is only one step lower than the Pope.”
Then the duchess tried to persuade Aramis to involve his friends, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan, for these purposes, to which Aramis responded with a decisive refusal.
“Just give me their addresses, dear d’Herblay,” said the Duchess. “I’ll talk to them myself.”
“That’s the trouble, I don’t have their addresses, Duchess!” - Aramis lied. “I relied on my memory and didn’t write down the addresses of my friends, but my memory failed me!”
Then the duchess took another lover, the Count de Chalet, whom she persuaded to an adventure aimed at the physical elimination of Richelieu.
The duchess's plans included the destruction of not only the cardinal, but also Louis XIII himself, after which it was planned to elevate the King's brother, Gaston d'Orl;ans, to the throne, strengthening his rights to the throne by marrying Anna of Austria, who, according to the duchess's plan, should have been widowed due to a fatal accident during assassination attempts. In order for du Chalet to agree to this adventure, the cunning duchess convinced him that the assassination attempt was aimed at protecting the honor of the duchess herself, since the treacherous cardinal allegedly planned to kill the duchess because she did not agree to become his mistress. As you know, a lover is ready to see a rival in everyone, so he easily believed the duchess and took this deadly step. The naive and talkative du Chalet boasted to his uncle, Commander de Balance, that in the very near future Richelieu would no longer pester the French with his taxes and new laws, since his visit to Prince Gaston of Orleans would be the last trip of the cardinal anywhere. The commander's sense of civic duty was much more significantly developed than family feelings for his nephew, so he immediately reported his nephew's plans to the cardinal, the conspiracy was exposed, and du Chatelet was captured and executed on charges of treason. At the same time, the cardinal forgave not only members of the royal family, but also the Duchess de Chevreuse, maintaining an amazing leniency towards her, which, apparently, could only be explained by the remnants of gratitude to the de Luynes family for helping in the successful start of his career. There were those who said that the cardinal's leniency was leniency towards the mother of one of his children. The king forgave his wife, brother and duchess, but did not forget anything.
After the death of Richelieu and the accession of Mazarin as the first minister and secret husband of Anne of Austria, the duchess was almost left out of work. But she was not such as to give up attempts to influence the very top people of France. Having created a circle of the so-called Arrogant Ones around herself, she initiated a conspiracy to overthrow Mazarin, in which the Duke de Beaufort and her cousin the Duke de Rochefort, as well as several princes, also participated. The conspirators ended up in the Bastille, but the duchess herself escaped with exile in Tours for five years.
Thirty-six years of marriage with Duke Claude de Chevreuse left the duchess three more children, a title and a name, with which she went down in history. Having been widowed, the duchess continued to intrigue and participated in a dozen conspiracies, in one of which she relied on the elderly Marquis de Chateauneuf, who was madly in love with her, and was privy to all state affairs as the custodian of the state seal. All the men involved in the conspiracy, even under torture, hid her participation, being in love with the charming duchess, which she successfully used. For example, for the Marquis de Chateauneuf, his love brought him more than four years in prison, but in comparison with the fate of du Chatelet, this was not so bad. The Duchess intrigued with the goal of Gaston d'Orl;ans' accession to the throne; if this failed, she plotted to secede Lorraine and adjacent territories from France, entered into correspondence with the royal houses of neighboring states, made promises on behalf of royal persons and broke them on her own behalf.
Finally, she even decided to trade various information that she received as a result of her intrigues. She did not dare to trade the secret of Anne of Austria, which was the existence of the King’s own brother, a twin brother, realizing how dangerous it was. To begin with, she decided to use not so murderous secrets, but only information about Fouquet’s unregistered debts. At first she tried to sell the documents proving this debt to the superintendent of finance himself, but Fouquet was not in the mood to pay the blackmailers, and refused without even delving into the essence of the offer, which was probably his fatal mistake. Having been defeated in this enterprise, the duchess decided to sell this secret and the letters incriminating it to someone who would have to pay even more for them. Such a person was Fouquet's enemy, Colbert. Unfortunately for the Duchess, Colbert was much less generous than Fouquet, so the Duchess had to reduce the amount for which she was unable to sell these letters to Fouquet. Not satisfied with the amount received, she persuaded Colbert to arrange a meeting for her with the Queen, who was influenced by a hint of the secret of the birth of Philip, Louis' twin. Acting like the most skilled blackmailer, the duchess declared that this secret would die with her, after which she complained of financial difficulties that did not allow her to put in order and maintain her family palace at the proper level. The Queen, partly touched and partly frightened, naturally provided financial support to her former friend.
But the Duchess was not satisfied with this double financial support - from Colbert and from the Queen. She wanted to live in the Louvre, close to the Queen, she had to participate in politics, she had to intrigue. For the Duchess de Chevreuse, life consisted of intrigues; she could not imagine her life without intrigues.
In addition, the duchess was the mother of the Viscount de Bragelonne, which she only recently learned about, since, having given birth from a casual relationship, she was not going to take care of her illegitimate child, and therefore was content with ordering the child to be thrown to his father.
Athos, who perceived this foundling as a gift from heaven, raised Raoul and provided for him financially, formalizing the adoption and transferring the Viscountcy of Bragelonne in his name.
It was to this lady that Athos went along with Raoul in the hope of finding out news about their friends.

XCVIII. Conversation with the Duchess

Athos came to the first intriguer of France, the Duchess de Chevreuse, in the hope of finding out something about his friends.
- Hello, Count, hello Viscount, so you are alive? I'm very happy about this. - the duchess was surprised, although in her tone there was no surprise or delight about this, her voice sounded evenly and dispassionately. “Well, I am also infinitely glad that you visited me in my humble palace.”
The Viscount thought that the Duchess's palace should hardly be described with such an epithet, but remained silent.
“But you probably remembered me because you need something from me?” - the duchess asked in a tone that did not suggest an answer to this question. “Since the only thing I can give you is advice or information, and since the Count is a man of such intelligence that he does not need the advice of any woman, I believe that you have come to me for some information.” Ask.
“The purpose of our trip, Duchess, was to find out if you had any news about our mutual friends, but your question forces me to ask you to also share with us rumors about our own death.” What made you think that we are no longer among the living?
“They talk about this everywhere, but I didn’t delve into the details,” the duchess waved it off. — Is it worth examining information that, as I see, turned out to be false? As for our mutual friends, I don’t know any, Count.
“I’m talking at least about Monsieur d’Herblay,” answered Athos. “There were times when he was one of, if not friends, then certainly not enemies of Your Lordship.”
- Oh, this one! — the Duchess smiled. “He is no longer the same musketeer I loved, and, most importantly, I am no longer the seamstress Marie Michon whom he loved.”
“Apparently, duchess, not only love, but also loyalty must be mutual, or they are not worth talking about,” Athos smiled. - Of course, Monsieur d'Herblay remained your friend, and for this he did not necessarily have to remain what the musketeer you are talking about was for the seamstress, whom you also have not forgotten.
“If he cheated on me with many, I would not pay attention to it,” answered the duchess, “but he became too carried away with one, and this is already unbearable for a woman who for a long time was his only hobby, even in that case if she did not limit her own hobbies to this musketeer.
“ I believe we can forgive Monsieur d’Herblay for his little weaknesses,” answered Athos condescendingly.
“One could call it a weakness to be infatuated with some beauty who means absolutely nothing in politics,” the duchess objected. — Infatuation with a woman like Anna Genevieve de Bourbon-Cond;, Duchess de Longueville, cannot be called weakness. Women from this family were always at the very rapids of political processes, and if they did not single-handedly create the history of France, then in any case they did not stand aside from these processes. Infatuation with such a woman is not a weakness, but a man’s strength, considering that there is a reciprocal infatuation, as you call it, on the part of the Duchess de Longueville. Sister of the Prince of Cond; and the Prince of Conti, wife of Henry II of Longueville, she is an important piece on the French chessboard.
“But you, Duchess, have a very direct connection to this branch of the most noble noble family of France!” - Athos objected.
“That’s exactly why I can’t forgive him for such betrayal,” answered the duchess, and now her voice did not sound like the voice of an indifferent tired woman, it contained a whole range of feelings. “After all, in her person he simply found a younger and more influential copy of the Duchess de Chevreuse, more impressive in all respects than the real de Chevreuse, which I am now!”
“Perhaps this is just a political alliance,” Athos suggested.
“If children are born from political unions, Mr. Count, then such a union is no longer only political,” the duchess smiled bitterly.
“The Duchess de Longueville is married, so it is not surprising that she gave birth to a child,” Athos said in such a tone that one might think that he believed his words.
“Precisely because the Duchess de Logeville is married, I cannot in any way assume that the duchess’s son, named Charles-Paris, was born from a legitimate husband,” the duchess objected. “I would rather believe that he was conceived by some familiar philosopher, even by the Duke de La Rochefoucauld.”
“Apparently, you will not help us find M. d’Herblay,” Athos said regretfully.
“Believe me, Count, I would have helped you even with this, but I really don’t know where this Aramis of yours has gone,” the duchess said sadly. “Our last meeting was not in the spirit of tender memories of two old friends. I stopped being interested in his movements. I only know that he was going to include himself among Fouquet’s friends, which is not smart for a man of such merits and talents as d’Herblay. At the first glance at Fouquet, you can predict his fate: he will climb up until he falls down and smashes himself into a cake. Such people do not know how to stop. He does not see reasonable limits to his greatness, his power and glory. At the same time, he managed to retain in himself the remnants of some kind of primitive nobility, with which it is simply impossible to survive in a civilized society. If d'Herblay got involved with Fouquet, he would either die with him or abandon him at the last minute. However, Fouquet has already been arrested, as far as I know, from which we can conclude that our good d’Herblay is either abroad, killed, or secretly transported to the Bastille.
“Everything you say is extremely regrettable, duchess, but you didn’t tell me anything new,” answered Athos.
“Ah, Count, the biggest news today is that the Viscount did not die in the sortie in which the Duke de Beaufort disappeared, and that you did not commit suicide the next day,” said the Duchess, and this time Athos caught the There are notes of joy and calm in her voice. “I’m most interested in this news at the moment.” Tell us how you managed to stay alive, convincing everyone that you died.
“I don’t know this myself, duchess,” answered Athos, “but life has taught me not to be persistent in obtaining information that I can do without.”
- Does this mean that you cannot do without information about your friends, Count? - asked the duchess. “It’s a pity that you don’t count me among your friends.”
“Duchess, for me you are more than a friend, believe me,” said Athos and looked at Raoul with tenderness, “but regarding information about you, it is enough for me to know that you are safe, because the King will never offend you.”
- Where such confidence? - asked de Chevreuse with a laugh.
“You have provided His Majesty with so many reasons to offend you, duchess, that if he has not done it before, you can be sure that he will not do it in the future,” answered Athos.
“Ah, Count, everyone sees reasons to offend me, but no one sees reasons why I should feel offended!” - the duchess waved him off. “Did you know that Baron du Valon apparently died on the island of Belle-Ile during an attack on the fortress by the royal fleet, and Monsieur d’Herblay left for Spain?” As for d'Artagnan, contrary to his custom, he has not led his forty-five musketeers for more than a month, instead performing some unclear functions, apparently related to secretive trips around France. Most recently, he appeared in Paris for one day, after which he disappeared again.
“I thank you, Duchess, for the useful information,” said Athos, after which he stood up and bowed, intending to leave the palace.
“Count, I ask you to leave the Viscount with me for a while,” the Duchess said hastily. “I need to talk to him about those topics that you apparently did not have time to talk to him about.”
“I don’t dare refuse you this request, duchess,” the count answered with a smile. “Raoul, you did the right thing in remaining silent while the duchess and I were having our little conversation, but to be in the company of such a dazzling lady and not express your delight is, to say the least, impolite.” Remember, my son, that the Duchess is your faithful friend, with her you can be extremely frank in any matter. She probably wants to give you some advice on a delicate matter in which I am not an expert. However, do not abuse her patience and do not tell her about the merits of other women.
- Count! “I didn’t express my admiration for the duchess’s beauty and intelligence only because I didn’t dare interrupt you,” said Raoul, and his eloquent look confirmed the correctness of his words.
“Ah, dear young man, your delight can only be fair if you compare me with my peers,” answered the duchess, blushing with pleasure. “I am convinced that the ladies around you are much more attractive than the elderly duchess who has lived a difficult life.”
“Madam, your modesty only complements the set of wonderful qualities that I spoke about,” Raoul answered gallantly.
“I will not interfere with your conversation, duchess, thank you again for the information you gave me,” said Athos, after which he tenderly kissed the hand of the duchess, who immediately offered him her other hand, which received the same kiss.
“Count, you make me think that I probably paid my attention to the wrong objects on which I should have concentrated,” sighed the duchess with coquetry. - How often do we women miss our happiness by chasing ghosts, when it may not be what we are striving for, and it may not have been as inaccessible as we thought!
“Some men can sometimes say the same about themselves, duchess,” answered Athos, looking into de Chevreuse’s eyes.
“There was a moment when I almost thought that I could marry her,” thought Athos, leaving the duchess. “However, this is nonsense!”
“If there is a person with whom I could be happy without all these numerous plans for transforming something that I still couldn’t improve, then probably this person should be in everything like the Comte de La F;re,” thought the Duchess , looking after the departing Athos. “But he’s just a count!” Oh, if only he were a prince!”

XCIX. Spouses

No matter how long Philip delayed the meeting with the Queen, he understood that this was inevitable. Communication with Lavaliere gave him his first experience of intimacy with a woman, and also convinced him that it is not at all necessary to love the one with whom you enter into a close relationship. Philip was convinced that the feeling that is called love in those books that he was able to read during his imprisonment, he could only experience for one woman, and this woman is currently the Princess of Monaco. For this reason, she cannot belong to him. The woman who not only belongs to him by right of the one whose place he has taken, but also to whom he belongs as a husband is Maria Theresa, the Queen. Parting with her could give rise to an international scandal. Neglect of marital duty would be immediately noticed, first by the family, and then by all the courtiers, which also could not but remain without consequences. Thus, visiting Maria Theresia at least once every two months was necessary.
Philip appointed this day for himself and tried to prepare for the meeting as best as possible. Just in case, he prepared an escape route. If the meeting does not take place properly, it will be possible to refer to unrest due to international events. Relations with Spain deteriorated again despite the fact that in order to resolve them at one time, the marriage of Louis XIV with Maria Theresa was concluded.
“Madam, I ask you to forgive me for too often neglecting to communicate with you,” Philip said one evening, addressing the Queen.
“Your Majesty has the right to do as he sees fit,” answered the Queen. - I will be glad to see you on my half whenever you deem necessary.
“Necessity is not a concept that should regulate meetings between spouses,” Philip objected, finding that he himself did not believe what he was saying.
“In the early months of our marriage, Your Majesty, only the need to attend to other more urgent tasks could distract you from communicating with me after dinner,” the Queen said with a sigh. “Now it’s only the need to maintain the appearance of a successful marriage that forces you to these meetings.”
“Nothing can force me, I am the King of France, and the only orders that matter to me are the orders of God,” Philip objected. “Even the Pope’s instructions matter to me only insofar as I am ready to see him as a messenger of God.”
“It is these instructions that instruct any King of Europe to visit his wife at least sometimes,” the Queen said sadly. “And I am glad of this, because otherwise, I believe, I would see Your Majesty even less often than I do now.”
- Do you want a quarrel? - Philip asked arrogantly, hoping that the conversation would escalate, which would allow him to feign offense and avoid intimacy with the Queen.
“Your Majesty, I bow before you and am ready to fulfill your wishes whenever you please, in the form in which you wish to demand it,” the Queen said humbly.
“I just want to hug you and fall asleep peacefully,” Philip answered.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” replied the Queen. - Come to my bed.
Philip, encouraged by the thought that he would not have to go beyond the bounds of respectful tenderness, eagerly crawled under the covers and embraced the Queen. Maria Theresa hugged Philip and buried her face in his chest. Her warm breath pleasantly calmed Philip, so he also hugged the Queen in return.
After half an hour of such tenderness, Philip realized that he wanted to do more than just gently hug the Queen, especially since he did not want to fall asleep peacefully.

The Queen again felt as if their marriage had taken place only today. She was happy and showed special tenderness to Philip, who stayed with her all night.
In the morning, Philip left the Queen's bedroom in a great mood. De Saint-Aignan, noticing the changed mood, decided that the King had returned to the Queen forever and for this reason would leave Mademoiselle de La Valli;re.
— How did you rest, Your Majesty? - asked de Saint-Aignan.
“Excellent, Saint-Aignan, thank you,” Philippe replied. - I hope you do too?
- Yes, Your Majesty! - answered de Saint-Aignan. — I dreamed about the Archangel Gabriel.
-What did he talk to you about? - asked Philip.
“He told me that Your Majesty has decided to leave Mademoiselle de La Valli;re,” said de Saint-Aignan.
- I know I know! - Philip grinned. - He told me about this conversation you had.
— Your Majesty also talked with the Archangel Gabriel? - de Saint-Aignan was inspired, believing that he had correctly guessed the King’s intentions.
- Of course! - Philip answered. “He told me that he had met you and that he had a long conversation with you, after which he told me: “Keep in mind that de Saint-Etian has gone crazy!”
“Obviously, you are right, Your Majesty,” said the embarrassed courtier. “Apparently, I was a little out of my mind that night. It's all because of the Brussels sprouts, which, to my misfortune, I ate before bed. Forgive me, Your Majesty!
Philippe nodded favorably and hugged de Saint-Aignan.
“Next time, choose your diet carefully before going to bed, dear friend!” - Philip said softly and walked into his office.

C. Morning at the Louvre

Colbert, who came to the King with papers requiring signatures, tried to put on a mournful grimace on his face.
- What's wrong with you, Colbert? - asked Philip. -Did you sleep well? Also, ate too many Brussels sprouts before bed last night?
“I received sad news, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied with a sad look.
“Starting a conversation with sad news is quite cruel to your King, Colbert,” answered Philip. - However, ending a conversation with sad news is even more cruel. Well, since we have already started this conversation, finish it. What happened to you?
“Monsieur d'Herblay, or the man who pretended to be Monsieur d'Herblay, died under tragic circumstances,” Colbert said.
- How is that?! - Philip exclaimed. - How did you know about this, Mr. Colbert?
“I received news of this event,” Colbert replied.
“Since you received news of this too quickly, Monsieur Colbert, I conclude that you sent your spies in the footsteps of Monsieur d’Artagnan, who was carrying out my special assignment,” Philip said harshly. “In this case, I can also assume that your spies were involved in the death of the prisoner.” I do not accept the idea that Monsieur d'Artagnan was so careless in carrying out my instructions that this negligence led to the death of the person he accompanied. Therefore, the cause of this misfortune was you or your messengers, which is the same thing for me.
“Let me justify myself, Your Majesty,” said Colbert.
“Your only excuse can be the fact that your information is wrong, Mister Colbert.” And pray to the Lord that it turns out that way! “I am immediately sending a commission to investigate the causes of this misfortune, and if the commission establishes even the slightest involvement of you in this unfortunate event, you will not lose your head, Mr. Colbert,” Philippe snapped dryly. “I’m placing you under house arrest, Mister Colbert.” From this moment you will return to your place and will not leave your home until I invite you.
Colbert stood up, bowed and left, leaving the papers on the King's desk.

Philip took the bell and rang it. He ordered the footman who came in to invite the lieutenant d'Arlencourt to him.
“Sergeant, you have been replacing Captain d’Artagnan for more than a month and have proven that you deserve a promotion,” said Philippe. “I don’t have time to issue you a license as a lieutenant of the royal musketeers, but this will be done as soon as you return from the trip on which I am sending you.” But I am already confirming this decision of mine with the following document.
With these words, Philip handed d'Arlencourt a document, in which the sergeant read the following:

"The King's Order.

The lieutenant of the royal musketeers, Mr. d'Arlencourt, is entrusted, accompanied by the king's four musketeers, to go after the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan, who is escorting the prisoner to the Pignerol fortress on the island of Saint-Marguerite. The lieutenant and his musketeers are charged with the duty of providing any necessary assistance to Captain d'Artagnan, at whose disposal he immediately comes. In the event that any unforeseen incidents occur with Captain d'Artagnan's expedition, Lieutenant d'Arlencourt is instructed to conduct a detailed investigation into all the circumstances of the incident.
The authorities of all cities along the route of M. d'Arlencourt are ordered to provide him with all possible assistance as the head of the Royal Commission of Inquiry.

King Louis XIV of France ."

“This order has the force of a patent from the lieutenant of the musketeers, Monsieur d’Arlencourt,” added Philippe. “Which, as you know, equates you to a Major of the Guards.” During your absence, transfer command of the royal musketeers to Sergeant d'Ephine.
D'Arlencourt stood tall, clicked his heels and left the King's office.

CI. Lyon

After du Trabuson and his wife and senior lieutenant d'Elsorte left d'Artagnan's carriage, leaving lieutenant de Lortie on the battlefield, and after they spent the night at the Two Pistols inn, Madame Olivia took command of the expedition.
“Didier, wait here for the captain’s carriage, and I’m going to Lyon,” she ordered.
“Wouldn’t it be better for us all to wait for d’Artagnan’s carriage here at the inn?” asked Du Trabuson.
“No better,” replied Madame Olivia. “We don’t know whether he will go further or decide to return back.” In any case, he will not abandon the carriage, therefore, we will always be able to catch up with him. But we would like to know whether a clarification of a previously received order has been received or, perhaps, a new order has been received from Mr. Colbert. The dovecote is located in the suburbs of Lyon, an hour is enough for me to get there and back. But this order could be very important for your career. I'm going.
“I’m worried about letting you go alone,” lied du Trabuson, who would not mind being widowed, he was so disgusted with his wife’s guardianship, although he admitted that she was right in each individual case.
- Nonsense! - Madame Olivia waved her off. “It worries me to leave you virtually alone against Captain d’Artagnan.”
- But I'm not alone! - Didier exclaimed. - I have senior lieutenant d'Elsorte!
“Haven’t you noticed that d’Artagnan is not alone either?” - Olivia was surprised. “After all, someone was shooting at us from the captain’s carriage, and he was shooting quite accurately, considering that it was dark and we were galloping, but this did not save de Lortie.” He is, at a minimum, seriously wounded, but I think he was killed, because he did not make a sound, he collapsed as if knocked down. So in case you want to fight, you will be two on two. This is a guaranteed defeat for you, dear Didier. You need some kind of cunning to kill both of them, but you are not capable of cunning, it requires my mind.
- And what do you advise me in such a situation, Olivia? - Didier asked.
- To advise, you need to know. That's why I'm going to get a letter from Mr. Colbert. Sit quietly, do not attack if the captain's carriage stops at this tavern, do not show your nose from the rooms, lock yourself with a latch. Just collect information. However, I believe that, having lost the prisoner, he will turn towards Paris. We'll catch up with him, and you'll kill him if we come up with a good plan. If I work it out. I just need confirmation of this order from Mister Colbert. Wait.
With these words, Madame Olivia resolutely left the room and headed to the stables. Cheerfully jumping into the saddle of her horse, she rode out onto the direct road to Lyon and gave spurs, raising her horse into a gallop.

Having arrived at a small house on the outskirts of Lyon, Madame Olivia jumped off her horse, threw the reins to the peasant who met her and ran up the stairs leading to the dovecote. Taking a recently arrived pigeon from its perch, she cut the thread on its leg with a knife, unwound the note and read the following message from Colbert:

“The prisoner whom d'Artagnan is escorting is to be recaptured and taken alive to Paris, excluding communication with anyone. I allow Captain d'Artagnan to be killed. TO".

- Damn him! - Madame Olivia exclaimed. “I shot the wrong person.” Well, let's correct our mistakes.

After that, Madame Olivia ran down the stairs, jumped on her horse again and rushed back to the Two Pistols inn.

CII. D'Artagnan's experiment

The breakfast that the innkeeper served to the King and his companions was quite decent, and the King, nurturing the thought of returning to the throne, ate it with gusto.
“I could consider my current journey as a short break from government affairs,” he told d’Artagnan, “if I myself could make decisions about where to go next.”
- Your Majesty, there is nothing simpler! - answered d'Artagnan. - Make a decision, where are we going next?
- Are you ready to go with me in any direction that I suggest? - the King asked in disbelief.
“Quite so, Your Majesty,” replied the captain.
— What caused this change in your attitude towards the task entrusted to you? - the King was surprised.
“The order was valid as long as everyone knew that Your Majesty was alive,” answered the captain. “However, there are three circumstances that exempt me from this assignment.
- What are these circumstances? - asked the King in amazement.
“The first circumstance is that the people who attacked us believe that they killed you,” answered d’Artagnan. “This gives us some freedom of action.”
- Great, Mister Captain! - agreed the King. - What is the second circumstance?
- The second circumstance is that Your Majesty sent an order to Monsieur de Saint-Mars to arrest anyone who arrives on the island of Saint-Marguerite and keep him in custody until the commission of inquiry sent there by Your Majesty, having the corresponding order, arrives there “,” said d’Artagnan dispassionately.
- How do you know?! - the King cried out quite emotionally.
“I only made an assumption based on your words about an unpleasant surprise, Your Majesty, but your exclamation convinced me that my assumption was correct,” the captain replied.
“Let’s say,” the King agreed, calming down. - What is the third circumstance?
“I dare to remind you, Your Majesty, that yesterday you used my handkerchief to wipe the sweat from your face,” answered d’Artagnan, “and this is the third circumstance about which I had the honor to inform you.”
- What nonsense! - exclaimed the King. - So what if I took your handkerchief? I do not understand!
“I used this same handkerchief to cover a jar of powder that I received from an Indian,” answered the captain. “A little powder remained on the handkerchief; you didn’t pay attention to it in the twilight.”
-Are you saying that I got dirty? - Louis asked worriedly.
“Something like that,” agreed d’Artagnan. “In addition, the bullet that hit the iron mask caused you to receive two small scratches on your forehead, Your Majesty.” The scoundrels who shot at you shed your royal blood.
“It’s nothing,” the King waved it off, “it will heal over time.”
“I think so too, Your Majesty,” replied d’Artagnan. “I hope that the scratches received will not cause physical suffering to Your Majesty.” So where do you want to go?
- Back to the Louvre, of course! - exclaimed the King.
“Impossible, Your Majesty,” the captain objected. - When I suggested that Your Majesty choose the direction of further movement, I forgot to warn that two options were categorically excluded. The first is a return to the Louvre, the second is a movement to the island of Saint-Marguerite through Lyon. In the first case it would be a retreat, which is contrary to my views on military honor, in the second case it would be madness, since an ambush certainly awaits us on this path. So, left or right, Your Majesty?
“If we’re not going to the Louvre, it doesn’t matter to me which way you prefer,” Louis waved him off.
“In that case, we go further through Saint-Etienne,” answered d’Artagnan. - We're leaving in ten minutes.

CIII. Duchess's revelations

The Duchess de Chevreuse once again carefully studied Raoul's appearance and was satisfied.
“Dear young man, your views on women are so naive that they threaten not only your happiness, but also, as I sadly note, your very life,” the duchess said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “If your intention to die heroically came true, I would be extremely upset.” Keep in mind that I take a very active part in your fate!
“The Duchess is unusually kind,” answered Raoul.
“This is not simple curiosity, Viscount,” continued the Duchess. - Tell me, did the count ever tell you anything about your mother? After all, I knew her.
“The count never said anything to me on this topic, and I got used to not being interested in this question,” answered Raoul.
- How insulting! - said the duchess. “However, the count didn’t know her as well as I did.”
“In that case, will you tell me about her, Duchess?” - asked Raoul.
“It’s impossible to tell everything you know about a person in one hour or even a whole evening.” What exactly are you interested in? - asked the duchess.
“I am interested in everything that Madame deigns to tell about her, but first of all, of course, about what she was like in character, in appearance?” I often imagined her and am sure that she was kind and beautiful.
“Perhaps so,” agreed the duchess. “She may not have always acted wisely, and sometimes committed actions that she should have been ashamed of, but if she made mistakes, they were sincere, and if she brought misfortune to someone, it was involuntarily.”
“I don’t dare condemn her and I don’t ask you about her shortcomings, for me she consists of only advantages,” objected Raoul.
“In that case, how do you explain the fact that the count never said anything about her?” — the Duchess smiled. “Didn’t even talk about whether he liked her or not?”
“I believe that the count’s relationship with my mother did not last long, and I always thought that my mother died very early, perhaps she died in childbirth,” said Raoul with sadness in his voice. “It was in this case that it would be difficult for the count to talk to me about her, because I became, apparently, the unwitting culprit of her death.” For this reason, I always ask the Lord to grant her heaven in heaven and forgive her all her sins, if she had any.
- Tell me, Viscount, how often did you ask the Lord for her in your prayers? - asked the touched duchess.
“So often, duchess, that I don’t even know the number,” admitted Raoul. “In all my prayers I remembered her, which means that at least once a week I asked the Lord for her.
- My dear boy! - exclaimed the Duchess. “I can’t lie to you anymore!” Know that I am your mother, and that I was extremely cruel to you because I refused to raise you with my other children! Will you forgive me?
- Oh, duchess, has God really vouchsafed me to hug my mother? - Raoul exclaimed. - Let me fall into your hands?
- Hug me, my son, and forgive me for everything! - answered the duchess and opened her arms to Raoul.
“I have nothing to forgive you for, Duchess!” - Raoul said through tears. - Excuse me, can I call you mother?
- Oh, yes, of course! - exclaimed the Duchess. - But only in private. I ask you to be modest, Viscount. After all, I was not married to your father.
“Your honor will not suffer in any way from your confession, Duchess, and my respect for you will remain above all else!” - Raoul answered. “From now on, I will pray to the Lord for mercy, not for some woman I don’t know, you will always be in my thoughts, and my prayers for you will happen much more often than they were.”
“We should both calm down, my son, and as a mother, I would like to talk to you about matters of the heart, which, as I know, influence your life too much, which makes me fear for you, my friend! ” - said the Duchess, relieved of the awkwardness she felt in showing too much interest in the fate of the young man, without having sufficient reason for this. “Now that you know the reason for my interest in your fate, I hope you will allow me to give you some advice in an area in which the Count’s advice might not be so thorough?” The fact is that, as far as I know, the count was so inexperienced in the field of communication with women that, of course, he could not be a full-fledged mentor to such a handsome young man like you, whose happiness certainly requires finding a worthy object of love.
“Madam, I have all your attention,” Raoul answered readily.
- In private, you can call me mother, because we agreed! - answered the duchess. - However, it will be more convenient for you, my dear.
“I’m listening to you, mother, and I’ll try not to miss a single word!” - Raoul exclaimed.
“In that case, here is my opinion about what happened to you, my son.” Correct me if I’m wrong,” the duchess began her speech. - You grew up in the provinces and did not have the opportunity to get to know all kinds of representatives of the fair sex so closely as to learn to judge them correctly. For this reason, the very first pretty face made an extremely strong impression on you, and the youth of its owner made you feel the fragility and defenselessness of the object of your adoration, so you imagined yourself to be the eternal protector of this young girl. You perceived her provincial naivety as moral purity and innocence. You perceived her blond hair, pale skin, refined features and gentle girlish voice as undeniable signs that you were dealing with an angel in the flesh. If someone had told you then that this girl you idolize would rudely laugh at your feelings, bring all her innocence and beauty to the altar of a swaggering nobleman, who was not used to being refused anything, anywhere and ever, and for this reason could not to appreciate the sacrifice she would make for him, you would either not believe it or give up your feelings for her. But no one could have predicted this for you, although if I had been next to you in those days, perhaps I would have seen in her signs of this future fate. But now it’s too late to talk about it, what happened, happened. I would just like to explain to you that, contrary to your opinion that heaven itself has treated you unfairly, and that there is no fate in the world worse than yours, the truth is that for a man, disappointment in a woman is the most natural state and the most likely the result of mad love.
“Do you mean by this, mother, that there are no women in the world worthy of love?” - Raoul asked eagerly.
“I just wanted to tell you, dear son, that all women are like this, the differences between them are not so strong as to attach extreme importance to this.” If you like a woman externally, this does not mean that you would like her soul if you knew her thoroughly,” the duchess continued. “I can also say with certainty that if a woman has not attracted your attention with the beauty of her face or figure, this does not mean that the qualities of this woman’s soul do not deserve respect and love.” And although quite often the qualities of the soul and appearance are far from equally worthy of male attention, nevertheless, there are women who are worthy of a man’s attention both from their external data and from their spiritual beauty. Unfortunately, men, who tend to equate external attractiveness with spiritual perfection, often forgive beauties the most severe vices, remaining their admirers. This is the reason that there are so many beautiful monsters in the world, scoundrels who, like vampires, suck all the juice out of men, and then abandon them, devastated and morally broken.
“Does this, Duchess, not contradict your statement that all women are essentially the same?” - asked Raoul.
“They are the same in what they can give to a man and in what they want to receive from men,” answered the duchess. - And there is no contradiction in this. But they differ in what they actually give to a man and what they demand for it. This is a big difference. In essence, moral or physical intimacy is not a necessary pleasure in life. Youth longs to receive these pleasures in one object as a gift from fate, maturity is ready to pay for them, and both are mistaken. True love is not given for free, but it is not for sale either. There are pleasures for which you can pay, there are those for which you have to pay, the latter are much more expensive. But true love is not bought with money, although it is not given to someone who cannot take care of the object of his love. No one can give you a recipe for happiness, but a good advisor can keep you from suffering the unhappiness you don't deserve. Do not strive to receive what you do not deserve, and then, perhaps, fate will reward you more than you deserve. But for this you must understand that true love, devoted, faithful, eternal, mutual, is such a rarity in the sublunary world that to expect it as a necessary component of life is insane vanity. Expecting a girl to love you sincerely and devotedly just because you love her that way means completely ignorant of life. If you decide to fall in love, you should not demand reciprocal love, since love is not a feeling that can be demanded. If you love sincerely, then you should not care whether the object of your love loves you in return or shows complete indifference to you. You are offended by life and fate only because your first and, I believe, not fully formed feeling did not find the same exact reciprocal feeling, but this is the same thing as being offended by fate because it did not make you By God. The belief that it may very well happen that being born as a God is a much more likely success than being born as a person who has known strong mutual love. If you do not blame fate for injustice simply because it did not make you a God or a King, then by what right do you challenge it for not bestowing reciprocal love? Know that truly strong and selfless, faithful and eternal mutual love will be born on earth much less often than royal persons will be born. Therefore, if you are desperate to get anything from one woman, then there is nothing stupider than despair. You should understand that trying to get from the one about whom you decided that you love her exactly what it is apparently impossible to get from any woman in the world is madness, or at least extreme vanity. And in the situation in which you find yourself, there is nothing crazier than frantically seeking death, even a heroic one, and nothing more reasonable than turning to another woman. Remember, my son, that each subsequent woman is better than all the previous ones, because, having gained experience communicating with them, you will no longer make the mistakes that you made before.
“You are suggesting to me, Duchess, that I give up my love and take up another subject,” Raoul said sadly.
- At the present time, apparently, you have not yet fully enjoyed your disappointment in women as such, and in your dreams in relation to that woman who will never satisfy these dreams, and who is not worth the admiration that you harbor in regarding her,” replied the duchess. “There is pleasure in suffering, and many prefer to drink this cup to the bottom.” Thus, a lover deceived in his hopes is not able to give up his crazy dreams, just as a person with a bad tooth does not allow it to be pulled out. Well! Good morning! Continue to put your fingers into your moral wounds, continue to suffer from unrequited love and from the betrayal of your beloved, just don’t get too carried away with it, don’t push yourself to the extreme. Very soon you will get tired of this, and then you will turn to another woman even without my instructions.
“It’s difficult for me to agree with you, duchess, but I continue to listen to you carefully,” answered Raoul.
“The love of a man is not the same as the love of a woman,” continued the duchess. - A man becomes blind about his love. He does not see any shortcomings in the object of his desires, and wants to be the first with his beloved, while he wants her to admire him forever, not paying attention to other men. A woman, falling in love with a man, on the contrary, becomes an expert on the issue of the shortcomings of the object of her love, she loves these shortcomings and forgives him for them, because she firmly believes that over time she will be able to rid her man of them, making him her ideal. She does not insist that she be his first, but wants to be his last, she does not want him to not pay attention to other women, but she wants him, comparing her with others, to always find her the best. It is generally accepted that a man wants only one thing from a woman, but in reality he always wants too much from her, so much that almost no woman can give it to him. It is also generally accepted that a woman wants almost nothing from a man, but this is not true, she also wants extremely much from him, and, moreover, in the form of thousands and thousands of little things, from which most men simply go crazy and then run away from their lovers, escaping from them in the circle of friends or casual girlfriends. In life there is no universal recipe for being happy in love. All comedies end in marriage, all tragedies begin with weddings, because marriage is that moment when both parties mistakenly believe that they have reached the point of greatest happiness, and unfortunately, they are right, because after this point they never experience such happiness again . Just as every person born inevitably goes to his death, so every marriage inevitably develops towards its complete opposite - a form of relationship where both spouses consider each other’s society to be the worst society they know.
“You say terrible things, madam,” Raoul said sadly.
“And that’s why you no longer want to call me your mother,” the duchess nodded. “I’m trying to tell you in one evening what I should have been telling you throughout your entire life, or at least the first twenty years.”
“Forgive me, mother, I’m not used to it yet, and I’m embarrassed by your words,” answered Raoul.
“I must finish my thought,” continued the Duchess. “Louise is a provincial who will not be able to hold the King’s heart for long, so she made the wrong choice. Sooner or later this connection will be broken. It is quite possible that she will even regret that she rejected your marriage proposal, but this will no longer matter to you. We are talking about you and your happiness. To be happy, it is not enough to love, but it is also not enough to be loved. We all want this to coincide, but I don’t know of such examples in life. This does not mean, however, that it is wise to seek death just because you are not an exception to this general rule. The king, who always receives everything from anyone around him and almost at any time, wanted something new. Louise is not so ambitious and, due to her youth, is very shy and cold, which the King considered signs of the highest purity, innocence, and sinlessness. This is the reason for his hobby. He accepted the challenge and decided to win Louise. She, who has received nothing in life, wants to get everything, and the best. Naturally, she considered the best thing to be exactly what everyone around her admired, and this is the reason for her passion for the King. But as soon as they see in each other a simple being of the opposite sex, who agrees to enter into intimacy, the delights of novelty, the feeling of happiness from possessing something that seemed impossible to possess, will go away, and boredom will remain, occasionally interrupted by carnal pleasures, which over time will turn into a habit. Their breakup is inevitable, and this is their fate. Your destiny lies elsewhere, my son, turn this page of your life and start a new one. If you're not ready to do it now, do it later. But do not throw the book of your life into the fire, because it is very premature to judge it by the first pages you read. You still have so many opportunities, my friend, a great destiny awaits you if you learn to manage it yourself. Look at Captain d'Artagnan, look at the Comte de La F;re, finally! Ask yourself the question, what would they do if there was disappointment in female love in their life? Oh, I know that your father had a similar test in his life, and even more severe, but he went through it and became who he is. I also know that fate stole his first and purest love from d'Artagnan, death snatched it from his arms, but he did not rush headlong into the bullets, he continued to valiantly serve his Motherland, remained faithful to his friends, his life full and beautiful. Have you really not chosen these two great men as your guide in life, and instead behave like that pathetic immature youth from one of Shakespeare's plays, who killed himself, thinking that his beloved was dead, while she was only sleeping? ? Do you want to follow this strange literary hero, or do you want to be worthy of the name and family of your glorious father?
The Duchess's last words hurt Raoul's pride.
“I believe, Duchess...” he began.
“Mother,” prompted the duchess.
- Mother, forgive me! I believe that I can prove to you that I am worthy of the honor of being the son of the Comte de La F;re!
- My son! - exclaimed the Duchess. “Now I see that you are who you were meant to be!” With God, my son! We'll see you again.
- Tell me, mother, can I ask you one more question? - asked Raoul.
“As much as you like, my son,” answered the duchess.
“The Count didn’t call me his son for a long time.” Perhaps he decided to adopt me out of pity? - asked Raoul.
“My son, know that no man can ever be sure that he is the father of those children he calls his own,” the duchess smiled. “But every woman always knows for sure that her children are her children.” So, I tell you as a mother, the Comte de La F;re is your true father, and if other women could assure you of this on the basis of the external resemblance to him that is visible at first glance, then I can assure you of this because reason that no one else can know it better than I know it. Embrace me, and we will part for today, since both you and I need to think about and accept the new position in which we find ourselves only now, and in which we should remain all the years of your life. Tell me again that you have forgiven your flighty mother!
- Mother! Duchess! - Raoul exclaimed. “I tell you again: I have nothing to forgive you for, I thank you for everything, and I adore you, and my first prayers to the Lord will be for you.”
The Duchess extended both hands to Raoul for a kiss, after which she hugged him and gently pushed him away with the words:
- Go, and be worthy of the Comte de La F;re, your father!
Raoul bowed and quickly left the duchess's room.

CIV. Ambassador of Spain

The next day Philip visited the Queen Mother.
- Mother, do you know that the Spanish ambassador is coming to us? - asked Philip. - This is a certain Duke d'Alameda. Several influential people in Europe strongly recommended this man to me. It was hinted to me that the proposals he brought us were extremely beneficial for France.
“In that case, my son, this ambassador should be received appropriately,” answered Anna of Austria.
“Any ambassador should be received appropriately, mother,” the King objected. - But no one knows this man! Have you heard anything about this Spanish nobleman? I have never heard anything about a person with that name, but judging by the number of letters of recommendation that have arrived, this person is quite extraordinary.
“You can make inquiries about him, my son, with the help of your ministers and their spies,” answered the Queen. - In any case, Richelieu did just that.
“I doubt that in France you will be able to find out anything about him,” Philip objected. “If you, mother, have not heard anything about him, and if my wife, also a Spaniard, the daughter of the King of Spain, also does not know this apparently high-born nobleman, what can the First Minister’s spies add to me about him?” After all, I myself, in fact, am half Spanish by birth. But by accepting the burden of royal power, I became completely French. Agree, the King of France cannot be half Spaniard, or even a quarter, or even one thousandth. The King of France is a Frenchman and nothing else. Therefore, I am interested in the conditions that the ambassador brought us; if these conditions are favorable for us, I will accept as an ambassador either a Turk or a Zulu, but if the conditions are unacceptable, Charles II himself, the King of Spain and my father-in-law, will not force me to accept them .
“Have you already asked the Queen about this man, my son?” - asked Anna of Austria.
“I asked, and Maria Theresa, just like you, mother, had never heard this name,” Philip answered.
“Then the only way to know about him is to accept him,” replied the Queen Mother.
“I think so too, mother, and that’s what we will do,” answered Philip. “However, I ask you to refrain from speaking in Spanish during the audience.” We will be surrounded by our subjects, and if you, I and the Queen speak to the Ambassador in Spanish, our subjects may for a moment forget that we are representatives of the ruling dynasty of France, they may imagine that we have secrets from them.
“Your wife would be pleased to hear Spanish speech, my son,” answered Anna of Austria. “I, too, would be glad to hear the language in which I communicated throughout my childhood.”
“We’ll talk in Spanish someday in our little family circle, mother,” replied the King. “But in the presence of the Spanish ambassador, we must remain French.”
“I understand you, my son,” agreed the Queen Mother. — Will your wife understand you?
“She has already been warned, madam,” answered Philip.

The audience was attended by all the noble persons of France, whose participation in such events was provided for by the protocol. In addition to Anna of Austria and Maria Theresa, Gaston of Orleans and his wife Henrietta, Prince of Cond;, Prince of Conti, Marshal de Gramont, Viscount de Turenne and other noble persons were also present.
When the Duke d'Alameda entered the state hall, the Queen Mother gasped, while Philip looked only a little more intently into the eyes of the ambassador. Under this name, as the ambassador of Spain, Aramis was presented to Philip, the same bishop of Vannes, Monsieur d'Herblay, who, according to a number of orders of the King, was declared a state criminal.
“So, Duke, you dared to come to France as the Spanish ambassador,” Philip said in an even voice.
“I represent Spain, Your Majesty,” Aramis replied. “All my actions should be interpreted at the moment as the actions of Spain.” If Your Majesty considers the proposals that I brought to you impudence, you have the right to reject them. However, I would recommend reading them first.
- Where are they, Duke? - asked Philip.
Aramis approached Philip and handed him a scroll of parchment, sealed with the signature of King Charles II of Spain and his seal. After Philip took this document, Aramis bowed and took two steps back.
After skimming the document, Philip exclaimed:
- However!
After that, he read each word again and more carefully.
“The proposals you brought, Duke, fill us with optimism,” Philip finally answered. “It seems to me that Spain has finally realized that peace with France is much more important and productive for it than petty disputes.”
“On behalf of the King of Spain, I express the hope that France will understand the same,” Aramis answered with a bow.
- Let me ask you, Monsieur Duke d'Alameda, to what extent did you personally participate in the drafting of this document? - asked Philip.
“My detailed knowledge of France, its strengths and weaknesses, as well as its interests and aspirations, enabled me to take an active part in the drafting of this document,” answered Aramis. — The most profitable proposals for France were written down from my draft.
“We appreciate the goodwill of Spain and assure you that these proposals will not go unnoticed. For its part, France will respond to Spain with reciprocal proposals that will be useful for Spain and help strengthen allied relations,” said Philip. “I ratify this proposal, as well as your credentials.”
Aramis handed over the Spanish ambassador's credentials, on which Philippe signed Louis XIV in a sweeping manner .
“I believe that now Your Majesty will forgive me for that episode at the castle of Vaud that took place,” Aramis said quietly in Spanish.
“Speak French, Duke,” answered Philip. - I have no secrets from my subjects.
After these words, Aramis looked carefully into Philip's eyes. Philip held this look with the most serene look, after which he said in Spanish without any accent:
“The episode at the Chateau de Vaud, as you called it, is l;se-majest;, while your actions as Ambassador of Spain are actions in the interests of France as a whole.” Therefore, it is not so important whether I have forgiven the Bishop of Vannes or not, for you, Duke, at the moment, much more important is the fact that I find your mediation in matters between France and Spain useful, and I remain interested in continuing this activity of yours in the future .
After these words, Aramis was shocked and discouraged.
“Your Majesty, thank you for your answer,” Aramis said with a bow. - Let me present you with this small ring with a diamond, which your father-in-law, King Charles II , asked to present to you on his own behalf. I also ask that you give me the honor of personally placing this diamond on the ring finger of Your Majesty’s left hand.
With these words, Aramis took out an elegant box from his pocket, from which he extracted a ring with an excellent diamond.
Philip graciously extended his left hand to Aramis.
Putting on the ring, Aramis stole a glance at the little finger of Philip's left hand, expecting to see on it the mark that the King received during his abduction from the castle of Vaud, and about which he himself said that looking at it, he would remember this insult to the Majesty all his life .
The mark that Aramis expected to see was not on the King's left little finger. So, Aramis realized that this was not Louis, but Philip.
- Your Majesty, may I ask you for mercy towards a certain prisoner? - asked Aramis.
— Are you asking on your own behalf, or on behalf of Spain? - Philip asked in turn.
“On my own behalf, Your Majesty,” Aramis replied. “I ask Your Majesty to forgive the captain of the royal musketeers, M. d'Artagnan.
“Monsieur d'Artagnan does not need your intercession, duke,” answered Philip. - He is currently carrying out one of my important assignments.
“In that case, may I ask you to forgive Monsieur Fouquet, Your Majesty?” - asked Aramis.
“Mr. Fouquet decided his own fate, Duke,” Philip answered coldly. - This issue is closed forever.
Aramis bowed and walked away from the King, and the audience was soon completed.

CV. Ambush

D'Artagnan's carriage rode through the gloomy forest.
Suddenly the driver saw that a huge fallen tree lay across the road. The coachman stopped the carriage and got out to try to move the log. At that moment, three horsemen quickly rode out of the forest. One of them put a musket to the coachman's head and said:
“Don’t say a word, my dear, otherwise I’ll shoot!”
The other two drove up to the carriage door, and, breaking the glass, pointed their muskets inside the cabin. Four shots were fired.
After that, one of the riders lit a package and threw it through the broken window. A terrifying explosion thundered inside the carriage, and both doors of the carriage flew off their hinges.
The man who threw the terrible package exclaimed in a female voice:
— Learn, hubby, how to solve problems!
The man who put the musket to the coachman's head looked back at the explosion, at that moment the coachman pushed him, deftly jumped over the log and rushed into the forest.
- Shoot, D'Elsorte! - Olivia exclaimed. - Don't miss him, he will be able to identify us!
“Shoot yourself, madam,” D’Elsorte answered rudely. “It’s a pity to waste a bullet on this commoner.”
- Damn you! - Olivia cried. “Don’t you see that my musket is unloaded!?”
With these words, she drove up to D'Elsorte, snatched the musket from his hands and fired in the direction in which the coachman had disappeared into the twilight forest. Immediately after the shot, a short scream was heard from the forest.
“D'Elsorte, go and finish him off,” Olivia said.
The senior lieutenant, already accustomed to the fact that in their trio the commander was the wife of Captain du Trabuson, took the second musket in his hands and went into the forest towards the bushes, from where a cry was heard.
A few seconds later, a second shot was heard from the forest, after which there was a long silence and complete silence so long that Olivia lost her patience.
“Why are you messing around there, D’Elsorte?” - Olivia exclaimed. - Didier, go and see what happened there?
Du Trabuson reluctantly followed First Lieutenant d'Elsorte into the forest while Olivia drove up to the wrecked carriage and looked inside.

Four hours earlier, the following conversation took place at the White Horse Inn.
“Listen, my friend,” d’Artagnan turned to Francois in the room they rented in this inn. - We need a reliable plan. Three horsemen are following us with the intention of killing us, and although one of these horsemen is a woman, I find her more dangerous than the other two. I can cross a sword with her only to deflect her blows, and I will not have the courage to shoot at her, while she can easily shoot or pierce us.
- What are we going to do? - asked Francois.
“Good question, son,” answered the captain. “I already played a joke on them once by replacing the gunpowder.” Now they have probably bought new gunpowder and new muskets, and are also ready for me to make a reconnaissance sortie. The old methods are no good, a new plan is needed.
“You talk about your problems as if I’m not here!” - the King exclaimed capriciously.
“You are right, Your Majesty, we cannot forget that you are added to all our problems,” the captain agreed. “You could even say that you are our main problem.”
- Impudent! - exclaimed Louis.
“Your Majesty, I would be glad if we parted,” responded d’Artagnan. “In this case, you would be responsible for your own destiny, and we would not be tied hand and foot.”
“We’ll hide him in this tavern,” suggested Fran;ois.
“It looks like we have no other choice,” agreed the captain. “Your Majesty, don’t blame me, I have to tie you up again.” I cannot allow you to escape, and I also cannot expose you to the danger of traveling with us. The villains think that you have been killed, we will not dissuade them of this misconception.
- Scoundrels! - the King was indignant. “However, I am no longer surprised by anything and yield to force, although I continue to believe that God will not leave your crimes against your King unpunished, I will regain the crown of France, and throw you into the Bastille.”
“This is a noticeable progress compared to the promise of an easy and quick death, Your Majesty!” - exclaimed the captain. “Our journey together is good for both of us.” You become more favorable, and my fate becomes softer and softer. When the most severe punishment you can think of for me is resignation, I will probably be able to let you go, but no, I must also remember the fate of France.
The king fell silent indignantly, and d'Artagnan tied him hand and foot with fairly gentle but reliable knots.
“I don’t advise you to make noise, Your Majesty,” said the captain. “We will warn the innkeeper that we are transporting a dangerous state criminal and that you are insane, and we will also present the innkeeper with the King’s order to take you to the island of Saint-Marguerite.”
“And you think the innkeeper will believe you?” - the King laughed. “Are dangerous criminals left under the supervision of innkeepers?”
- He's right, Francois! - answered d'Artagnan. “The innkeeper won’t believe this.” I’ll have to leave you to look after our prisoner, and I’ll deal with these three myself.
- I won’t let you go, father! - exclaimed Francois.
“Suggest another method and we’ll think about whether it’s suitable,” answered d’Artagnan.
“We will say that our companion fell ill and we went for a doctor, and we will strictly forbid the innkeeper to look into this room,” suggested Francois.
“It’s no good, son,” the captain objected. “It’s decided, I’m going alone, and that’s enough about that.” Let me remind you that if you try to escape, you can shoot our prisoner or stab him with a dagger. And also pay special attention to this.
With these words, the captain bent down to Francois’ ear and whispered: “Don’t even think about killing him or even injuring him!”
- Do you understand, my friend? - he asked again in a normal voice. - You can shoot, or stab, or what I told you about.
- Of course, father! - answered Francois. “In any case, he won’t run away.” When you return you will find both of us here, or he will be dead.
- Well done, son! - said the captain, clapped Francois on the shoulder and left the room.

After this, d'Artagnan put on a coachman's suit over a small coat of mail, hid two loaded muskets in his clothes, made sure that his dagger was still in his right boot, sat on the box of his own carriage and drove off in the previously planned direction.
But let's return to the drama that played out in the forest.

D'Artagnan, disguised as a coachman, skillfully avoided a musket bullet. Taking advantage of D'Elsorte's confusion, he quickly disappeared into the gloomy forest, where he turned sharply to the left and hid. Olivia, who fired in the direction he had gone, missed, of course. The captain screamed like a wounded coachman and hid. He expected that one of the attackers would go to check whether he was alive or not, and his expectations were justified. As D'Elsorte passed by, the captain hit him hard on the head with the butt of his musket. The senior lieutenant fell, and d'Artagnan quickly tied his hands, after which he fired a shot into the air with d'Elsorte's musket. In anticipation of the next enemy, the captain carefully peered into the twilight silhouettes, his eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness, so from afar he noticed du Trabuson heading towards him and dealt with him in the same way as with his predecessor, but he did not fire another shot into the air .

Olivia, waiting for the smoke inside the carriage to clear, decided to look inside to make sure that her measures to eliminate the King’s envoys were effective. Inside the carriage, she expected to see the corpses of enemies, but the interior was empty. At that moment, she felt the cold barrel of a musket being pressed against her back.
- Madam, don’t move! - she heard the voice of the captain of the musketeers. “I don’t like to shoot ladies, but for the sake of my mission, according to the King’s orders, I will do it without hesitation.” Be obedient and you will live.
Saying this, d'Artagnan deftly disarmed Olivia.
Taking three steps away from Olivia, he tossed her the rope.
“Tie your feet, madam, and don’t try to be cunning,” he said.
Swearing obscenities at the captain, Olivia wrapped the rope around her ankles three times and secured the rope in an intricate knot.
“Now, be so kind as to extend your hands,” said d’Artagnan.
He deftly threw a rope loop around Olivia's hands, then threw her bound hands over her head and tied the rope to her belt. He then checked the knot on her legs.
“What a shame it is to deceive the captain of the musketeers in such a way when he is carrying out a royal commission!” - exclaimed the captain. - Your knot comes undone at the slightest movement of your legs. Let me, madam, let me put on a more secure knot.
- Damn you! - Olivia grumbled.
“That’s as much as you want, I’ve already heard similar remarks in my time,” the captain calmly answered.
After this, d'Artagnan tied the three horses of the intruders to the wreckage of the carriage and unharnessed the two horses harnessed to it. Having thus five horses and three prisoners, he put each of the attackers on the back of a separate horse, mounted D'Elsorte's horse, and led the remaining four horses with three prisoners on them to the White Horse inn. Du Trabuson got a horse without a saddle, so the captain placed the most intact cushion from his carriage under him.

When the captain's caravan arrived at the hotel, d'Artagnan jumped out of the saddle, tied the horses to the fence and entered the inn, where he called Francois.
- Listen, D'Elsorte! - he said to the senior lieutenant. - We have known you for a long time, although not too well. I assume you were following the couple's orders. If you give your word to return to Paris and not further obstruct me in carrying out the King’s orders, I will let you go on all fours. Do you give your word as a nobleman not to interfere with me?
“I give my word as a nobleman that I will not cause any obstacles to you and your companions and will immediately return to Paris, if you so wish, sir,” answered d’Elsorte.
“In that case, you are free, but do not get in my way until I complete my mission,” said d’Artagnan.
- Will you return my sword to me? asked D'Elsorte.
“Of course, you gave me your nobleman’s word not to cross her with me, at least until I return to Paris, didn’t you?” - the captain answered and looked carefully into the eyes of the senior lieutenant.
- Needless to repeat. The word of the nobleman is that I accept your terms,” D’Elsorte replied.
- Go! “You can take your horse,” replied the captain, returning the sword to D’Elsorta. “Fran;ois, I think we can handle two prisoners.” Help me remove them from the horses, after which we will place them in the inn and clarify our subsequent plans.
As soon as d'Artagnan turned his back to d'Elsorte, he drew his sword and with the words “Then die!” pointed it at the captain's back.
Fran;ois exclaimed, “Careful!” and pushed the captain to the side, the sword slid along the captain’s side and, colliding with the chain mail, broke with a ringing sound. A piece of the sword entered the throat of the horse, which wheezed and collapsed on d'Artagnan.
- Scoundrel! - exclaimed Francois. - Defend yourself, or I will kill you!
With these words, Fran;ois casually threw de Trabuson's sword to Senior Lieutenant D'Elsorte, hilt forward, then drew his own sword and rushed at him. Swords rang and a furious battle ensued.
D'Artagnan freed himself from under the wheezing and bleeding horse, took a musket from his saddlebag and shot the horse in the head. The horse immediately fell silent, after which the captain pointed his own sword at D'Elsorte.
- Your sword, quickly! - he exclaimed. “I’ll count to five, after which I’ll skewer you like a capon.” One!
- Two versus one? - D'Elsorte shouted. - This is vile!
- Two! - said the captain. - Don't tempt me! Three! I will do what I say. Come on! Four!
“I surrender,” answered D’Elsorte and threw the sword on the ground.
- That's the same! - said the captain. “I’m not throwing words to the wind, at the count of “Five” I would pierce you, you can be sure.” Francois, take the sword and break it.
- This is dishonorable! - D'Elsorte tried to protest.
“You gave the nobleman his word, you broke it,” d’Artagnan calmly objected. “So you are not a nobleman.” The rules of honor do not apply to you, and you will no longer need the sword. I don’t see your sword as a desirable trophy. Damn, such a horse! You are a scoundrel, D'Elsorte. You are my prisoner and I do not promise you anything good.
At that moment, five horsemen quickly rode up to the inn.
- What's going on here? - their leader shouted.
- Sergeant d'Arlencourt! What destinies? - exclaimed d'Artagnan.
- Captain?! Lieutenant d'Arlencourt is at your disposal, captain! - answered d'Arlencourt, who recognized his captain, and handed d'Artagnan the document he had received from Philip.
“It’s dark here, Lieutenant, tell me briefly, what does it say?” - asked the captain.
- This document is worth reading, captain, and in short - I have already said, I, with the rank of lieutenant, arrived at your disposal with four of your musketeers.
- Well, I'm glad to see you here, friends! - exclaimed the captain. - Gentlemen de Parisot, de Sigal, de Truffaut, de Fayol, glad to see you all! Take these little darlings and bring them to the tavern, we will give them a home there. While we walk towards the light, I must read the order. And I ask you to be careful with the lady in every sense, she is very cunning and dangerous.

Approaching the lantern at the entrance to the tavern, the captain unfolded the order and read:

"The King's Order.

The lieutenant of the royal musketeers, Mr. d'Arlencourt, is entrusted, accompanied by the king's four musketeers, to go after the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan, who is escorting the prisoner to the Pignerol fortress on the island of Saint- Marguerite. The lieutenant and his musketeers are charged with the duty of providing any necessary assistance to Captain d'Artagnan, at whose disposal he immediately comes. If any unforeseen incidents occur with Captain d'Artagnan's expedition, Lieutenant d' Arlencourt is instructed to conduct a detailed investigation into all the circumstances of the incident.
The authorities of all cities along the route of M. d'Arlencourt are ordered to provide him with all possible assistance as the head of the Royal Commission of Inquiry.

King Louis XIV of France ."

- Excellent paper, d'Arlencourt! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “While these three are still here, I inform you, Lieutenant, that I was twice attacked by de Trabuson, d’Elsorte, de Lortie and this lady, who personally shot the prisoner I was accompanying in the head. Thus, I had to defend myself, as a result of which these three were captured, as for De Lortie, he died in a shootout while we were trying to defend ourselves and our prisoner. Thus, all you have to do is take these three straight to the Bastille, and there, if the royal prosecutor decides to execute them, there will be no objections on my part.
- We are not guilty! - Olivia screamed. -My husband followed Colbert's orders!
- To listen to her, Colbert has nothing better to do than hinder the execution of the King’s orders! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “This way, any robber will begin to slander the First Minister of France.”
- I can prove it, I have proof! - Olivia screamed.
- Where is it? asked d'Arlencourt. “I head the investigative commission, and if you have evidence of your innocence, the commission will take it into account.
- It will! I will present it to you in Grenoble! - Olivia said hastily.
- So, now you don’t have any evidence of your words? “I see,” answered d’Arlencourt.
“I swear to you that I will present it to you in Grenoble!” Take us to Grenoble! - Olivia continued to wail.
“What can you show us, madam, in Grenoble?” - asked d'Artagnan.
- I will give you the letter that I will receive from Colbert by pigeon mail! - Olivia said hastily.
“Lieutenant, I believe this letter, if it exists, may be of some interest,” said d'Artagnan. “But you should keep a close eye on her, this cunning beast can run away at the slightest mistake.” Perhaps this whole letter thing is just a ruse to sneak out at the first opportunity.
“They won’t run away from me!” - exclaimed d'Arlencourt.
“Okay,” said d’Artagnan. — We're going to Grenoble. We will need two carriages. One is for the prisoners, the other is for Francois and me. I received a small wound, so I prefer to ride in a carriage.
“As you say, captain,” agreed d’Arlencourt. - De Parisot, de Sigal, de Truffaut, take these to the tavern. We are spending the night here. And I ask you, de Fayolle, to talk to the innkeeper and find out where we can rent or buy two carriages.

—Are you seriously injured, captain? - D'Arlencourt asked with concern.
- Not at all, Lieutenant! - answered the captain. “I just have reasons for traveling in a closed carriage, and I don’t want to reveal these reasons to our prisoners.”
- God bless! - The lieutenant smiled. “Otherwise I was already thinking, what kind of wound is this that does not allow Captain d’Artagnan to ride in the saddle?”
“This must be a very serious wound, Lieutenant,” the captain smiled. “But today the Lord, in the person of Francois, averted the treacherous blow from me.” Although it's a damn pity for the horse! By the way, Lieutenant, meet Francois. This is my son.
- Time to meet you! - answered d'Arlencourt, extending his hand to Francois.
“Francois, this is Lieutenant d’Arlencourt, my deputy,” continued d’Artagnan. “When I retire, I will gladly transfer to him my position as captain of the royal musketeers, if His Majesty approves of my petition.”
— It’s a great pleasure for me to meet you! - answered Francois.
“It is, of course, more convenient to transport prisoners in a carriage, although this will lengthen the time of our journey,” continued d’Arlencourt. - Why do you need the second carriage, captain, if it’s not a secret?
“You see, d’Arlencourt, the prisoner I am taking to the island of Saint-Marguerite suffered somewhat from the attack,” answered the captain, “but the attackers think that he was killed.” I would not like to dispel their misconception.
- And you are absolutely right, captain! - the lieutenant agreed. - Since they are under investigation, they should not be privy to all the details of the case.
“That’s right, Lieutenant,” said d’Artagnan. - Remember that no one should see my prisoner. As for our brave musketeers, they do not need to know that I am carrying a prisoner. And we both know our people, they are not curious when it is necessary to carry out an order.
“It will be enough for them to know that you and Francois are traveling in the second carriage,” agreed d’Arlencourt.

CVI. Dovecote near Grenoble

Old Eugene went up to the dovecote and saw the rock pigeon returning. He untied the note from his paw and looked at the paper in surprise. It was not the paper that Monsieur d'Herblay usually used. Eugene unfolded the note; the handwriting was also someone else’s.
Then Eugene read the following text:

“Kill them both, hide all traces. Remove the performers. TO."

“This is not the point! - thought Eugene. “One of the monsignor’s agents has started his own game and is using the monsignor’s pigeon mail for this!” We need to warn him about this!”

Then Eugene took from the box a small piece of paper, the kind on which he usually wrote letters to Monsignor, and wrote on it:

“Someone is using this mail for their own purposes. This letter arrived by dove from Paris, enclosed. Eugene"

Then he took another pigeon from a cage with the inscription "Paris", tied both notes to its leg, one above the other, wrapped it with thread and tied it in several knots, after which he released the pigeon out the window.

Aramis, after a busy day, came to the apartments provided to him by Philip in the Louvre for the duration of his diplomatic mission.
“So, what I did not complete, someone else completed more successfully. Who? Only D'Artagnan and no one else! Athos might have been able to do this, but no, he would not have done it either for himself or for the sake of others. Only d'Artagnan could take such a risk. He conceived this one back when the King kept us both in the Bastille! Of course it's him! Cunning beast! Well, this works to our advantage! Why didn't he tell me? But as? Where? Everything is correct. He didn't know where or how to find me. Besides, he had no time for me, and now he has no time for me. Now it’s clear what business Philip sent him on. He is taking Louis to Pignerol to take Philippe’s place.”

A few minutes later, Bazin entered the room with a tray on which a light dinner was laid out.
“Thank you, Bazin, I’m not hungry,” answered Aramis. - Tell me to find out if there is any news by pigeon mail.
“I’ve already done it, monsignor,” replied Bazin. — these two pieces of paper arrived on the same pigeon from Grenoble.

Aramis unfolded both pieces of paper, read them, then leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and thought deeply.
"TO. – this is not the king, of course! - thought Aramis. - Cardinal? Captain? Colbert? This is a very powerful and cruel person. Colbert - suitable. Who does he order to kill? Of course, d'Artagnan, who takes Louis to the island of Saint-Marguerite. And Grenoble is just on the way there! I must warn d'Artagnan!"

Aramis took one of his usual pieces of paper used for pigeon mail and wrote the following:

“Eugene, thank you! The one who comes for the letter, detain, warn Captain d’Artagnan on my behalf about the danger for him and his prisoner, with whom we were at Bezmo’s.”

After that, Aramis rang the bell. When Bazin came in he said:
— Bazin, this letter is urgent with a dove to Grenoble.

When a procession of two carriages, accompanied by five horsemen, arrived at a lonely dovecote in the suburbs of Grenoble, Lieutenant d'Arlencourt led the bound Olivia out of the first carriage and said to her:
“Madam, you have the opportunity to try to provide us with evidence of your innocence.” Let's go.
After that, he knocked on the dovecote. Old Eugene opened the door.
“Sir, do you have any news for this lady?” asked d'Arlencourt.
“Are you saying that you are expecting a letter by pigeon post, gentlemen?” - asked Eugene, trying to assess the situation. - Tell me, from whom did you come?
“I have come by order of the King,” answered d’Arlencourt. “I’m conducting an investigation into this lady’s case.” Do you have a message for her?
“I have no messages for this lady, sir,” replied Eugene.
- He's lying! - Olivia exclaimed. - He's lying, he received the message, I'm sure of it!
“Sir, if you lie, you will be held accountable for treason against the King,” said d’Arlencourt. “I represent here a commission acting on behalf of the King and by order of the King.
— Judging by your uniform, you seem to be the King’s musketeers? asked Eugene. “Tell me, is Captain d’Artagnan among you?” I have a message for him.
- I'm here, buddy! - exclaimed d'Artagnan, getting out of the second carriage. — What message do you have for me and from whom?
“Monsieur d’Herblay told me to tell you that you are in danger, Monsieur Captain,” answered Eugene.
“Is this really a message from M. d’Herblay?” - asked d'Artagnan.
“This is the message,” Eugene answered and handed him the note.
D'Artagnan read the letter and put it in his pocket.
- There is no doubt! It's d'Herblay! He really warns me about the danger that threatened me, but which I have already dealt with.
- So, madam, we have no evidence of your innocence! - said d'Arlencourt, turning to Olivia.
“Please, d’Arlencourt, let’s continue this way,” continued d’Artagnan. “I direct de Sigal and de Truffaut to take this married couple to the King for trial.” We will continue our mission to the end. Write to His Majesty a report of what you saw here and of my decision.
- Yes, captain! - answered d'Arlencourt.

When the procession divided, the carriage with d'Artagnan, Francois and the King went, accompanied by three horsemen, towards the south coast, accompanied by two musketeers and a lieutenant, and the carriage with the captive spouses du Trabuson, accompanied by two musketeers, headed for Paris, Eugene took a piece of paper and wrote on it:

"D'Artagnan is warned, rides south with four accompanying persons, two prisoners, a man and a woman, the de Trabuson spouses, escorted by two musketeers, travel to Paris"

He tied this letter to a dove from a cage with the inscription “Paris”.

CVII. Raoul

In the evening, Athos met with Raoul at the Kozochka tavern, where they so often met with d'Artagnan.
- My son, have you spoken to the duchess? - said Athos, so that his voice felt more like a statement than a question.
“Father, I learned too much, but much less than I would like,” Raoul answered.
“The Duchess told you about...” said Athos, but interrupted himself. - What did she tell you about?
“About myself and you and me,” Raoul answered. - And about my erroneous idea in an area that you and I have never talked about.
“It’s all right, my son, it’s all right,” agreed Athos. - Forgive me that I did not touch upon a topic so important to you in my conversation, which ceased to be important to me so long ago that I don’t even remember how many years have passed since then.
“Father, I understand you,” Raoul agreed. “The Duchess convinced me that I was too naive to make hasty conclusions in these matters.” I should not condemn Louise, I knew this myself, and there was never a shadow of condemnation in my thoughts. But the Duchess helped me see the other side of it. If earlier I accepted any actions from Mademoiselle de La Valliere, considering her an ideal and a divine creation, now I accept her right to any actions and feelings, recognizing her as a human being.
- This is great progress, my son! - Athos agreed. “I am grateful to the Duchess for this conversation with you.”
“It’s not so important anymore,” Raoul continued. “She helped me understand myself, which is much more important.” I should probably rethink this. In the depths of my feelings, I have not yet freed myself from the loss that I suffered, but in my mind I already understand that I have not lost anything, since I did not possess anything that I considered mine.
“My son, you have matured more in these half-days than another young man can mature in three years!” - Athos noted. “I realized too late how important such a mentor as you met in the person of the Duchess can be for a young man.”
“In the person of my mother, Count,” Raoul clarified.
“So, you know everything,” Athos nodded. - All the better. I assume you have not reproached the Duchess for anything?
“I just reaffirmed my respect and admiration for her, Count,” Raoul replied.
“That’s how it should be, my son, that’s how it should be,” agreed Athos. “The woman who gave birth to a child has already given him enough.” Many women then do more harm to their children than good. Therefore, if she gave life and left, then this is quite enough if this child has a father.
“I have never felt like an orphan, Count!” - Raoul agreed. “You were not only my father, but also replaced my mother.” If the Duchess decided to recognize me as her son, I am grateful to her for this, but I do not expect from her more than what she has already given me with this recognition and conversation with her. This will last me for many years.
“Well, Raoul, I see a mature man in front of me, and I believe that now you can return to Blois without harm to yourself, or go wherever you see fit.”
“Didn’t you, Count, tell me that Blois is lost to us forever?” - asked Raoul.
“As long as you connected Blois with this woman, my words were full of meaning,” the count explained. - If you see in it only your home and friends dear to your heart, if the places where you walked with this girl do not tear your heart, returning home will not have a disastrous effect on you. I would like to hug our old Grimaud.
- Just like you, Count, I would like to hug him, after which let me go on a short sea trip! - Raoul answered warmly.
— Did you like our hiking in the mountains so much? - Athos smiled.
“This time I would like to go not to Scotland, but to England, to London,” answered Raoul.
“Someone told me that Miss Mary Grefton is very good,” answered the count. - Go, my son! With God blessing!
“I just wanted to visit the court of King Charles II again ,” said Raoul, blushing.
- Commendable! - Athos smiled.
- Father! I can't lie to you! - Raoul exclaimed. “I really want to see Miss Mary Grafton.”
- Good morning, my son! - Athos answered and hugged his son tightly.

CVIII. General of the Order

Aramis asked Bazin to wait while he read the letter from old Eugene of Grenoble, since perhaps an answer would be required. Having read the letter, the prelate raised his eyes to Bazin and said:
- My friend, do you remember Dupont? Invite him to me.
Bazin bowed and left.

An hour later, Bazin reported that Monsieur Dupont was waiting in the reception room for Monsignor.
“Let him come in,” Aramis nodded.
- I am happy to see you in Paris, monsignor! - Dupont said with a bow.
“Mutually, Dupont,” Aramis replied with a soft smile. - Remember the name de Trabuson. The couple, Didier and Olivia.
— Didier du Trabuson and Olivia du Trabuson, monsignor. “I remember,” Dupont nodded.
“I want to know their every move over the past month,” said Aramis. - My pigeon mail and my agents are at your disposal. I need a full report in writing within 24 hours.
“Yes, monsignor,” Dupont replied with a low bow.

When Dupont left, Aramis rang the bell, and he said to Bazin, who came in:
- Bazin, my dear, prepare my ducal suit. I'm going to Colbert's.

Less than an hour later, Monsieur Colbert, still under house arrest, received Aramis with amazement. When the secretary informed him that the Duke d'Alameda, the Spanish ambassador, wanted to see him, he ordered to invite him into the office, but when he saw the bishop of Vannes, whom he knew, he was so confused that he almost expressed his surprise out loud.
— How can I serve Mr. Ambassador of Spain? - he asked, barely containing his feelings. - At the moment, I am somewhat constrained in my movements and would not be able to pay you a return visit, however, settle down and feel at home.
“Thank you, Monsieur Colbert,” Aramis replied coldly. — In France, I feel at home almost everywhere, with the exception of those places where the cuisine is disgusting and the wine is bad.
“As I was able to notice, nothing can keep Monsieur the Duke in those places where he doesn’t like the cuisine,” Colbert tried to sneer, hinting at the Bastille.
- You are absolutely right, Mr. Colbert! - Aramis answered completely dispassionately. — In my advanced years, I eat very little, but this one even more so sets high demands on the quality of food. And if they intend to feed me only bread and water, or not feed me at all, then such places are not for me. But I didn’t come to you for gastronomic discussions.
“I am listening to you very attentively, Monsieur Duke,” replied Colbert.
“I want to talk about a married couple, Mr. Colbert,” answered Aramis. - Their last name is du Trabuson.
“This is the first time I’ve heard this name, Monsieur Duke,” Colbert replied.
“Apparently you are signing the patent of the captain of the royal guards without reading it, Monsieur Colbert?” - asked Aramis.
“This probably happened to me two or three times when I only briefly read the name and it didn’t stay in my head,” Colbert agreed.
“Even in the case when the entire patent is completely filled out by your hand,” Aramis nodded. “Well, a statesman may well have such selective memory.”
“What do you need in relation to this, as you said?..” and Colbert tried to pretend that he could not remember the name of the person in question.
“Captain du Trabuson, according to your patent, and also his wife Madame Olivia du Trabuson,” answered Aramis. “These gentlemen tried to organize an attack on the captain of the royal musketeers, carrying out the order of the King.
- What scoundrels! Colbert exclaimed. “Is your information reliable, Mister Duke?”
- Extremely reliable, Mr. Colbert! - Aramis answered. “However, soon I will receive a more detailed report on all the crimes of this couple, as well as whose orders they carried out.”
- My God! Who could give them such an order! - Colbert was indignant and threw up his hands. “They must have gone crazy if they decided to commit such an atrocity!”
“I believe that you are right, Monsieur Colbert,” Aramis agreed. “These madmen have caused serious damage to the King’s cause.”
- Is Mr. Captain really dead? - Colbert exclaimed, trying in vain to portray horror.
“I do not rule out the possibility that one of those who was attacked was seriously injured,” Aramis replied. “But an atrocity does not cease to be an atrocity even if the damage from it has been minimized.
“I completely agree with you, Monsieur Duke,” answered Colbert. - What do you want from me?
“I want to get these people in order to punish them for the attempt on the life of my friend, Mr. Captain of the Royal Musketeers, as well as for trying to interfere with the execution of the King’s order,” Aramis answered in a harsh tone.
- Why do you need this? Colbert asked. “Do you want to interrogate them so that they might slander an innocent person, pointing to him as an accomplice, or, God forbid, as the leader of this action?”
“On the contrary, Mr. Colbert, I want to shut their mouths once and for all and eliminate the possibility of such insolence being repeated,” Aramis replied.
- But I don’t decide anything! Colbert exclaimed. - I myself am under house arrest!
“This temporary measure will end soon, I assure you, Mister Colbert,” Aramis smiled. “Meanwhile, I only need a signature on the order that these criminals be dealt with as I see fit.”
- On orders? - Colbert was surprised. — In whose name was this order written?
“From yours, of course,” answered Aramis. “Do you want me to read it out, or will you and I discuss how we can force these scoundrels to confess who their accomplices or even perhaps their masterminds were?”
“I don’t want to know anything and I don’t want to hear anything about these criminals!” Colbert exclaimed. “If you have already investigated this case, I don’t want to have anything to do with it!” His Majesty clearly indicated to me that I should deal only with finances.
- So, you won't sign your order? - asked Aramis.
“I don’t know the reasons why you consider yourself entitled to conduct this investigation, and therefore I cannot dialogue with you on this topic,” Colbert replied.
“I’ll be back in an hour, Monsieur Colbert,” Aramis replied. - I will go to the King and sign the appropriate authorization from him.
“I believe you can do it, Monsieur Duke,” Colbert replied. - There is no need to go anywhere. Do you promise that you will not try to get these scoundrels to slander people who had nothing to do with their crimes?
“That is not my intention, so you can rest assured about this,” Aramis replied coldly. “I am sufficiently aware of the motives of these people, and yet I consider the investigations that you fear undesirable.”
“Give me your paper,” Colbert said abruptly.
Having received the document, Colbert wanted to sign it without looking, but decided that such a beautiful gesture was dangerous, since the paper could contain something completely different.
He read the document which read:

“The bearer of this document, the Duke of Alameda, is free to take the spouses Didier and Olivia du Trabuson to punish for the atrocities they committed against the King and his soldiers.”

Having made sure that nothing else could be added to this document, since there were monograms in the empty places, he decisively signed the document and returned it to Aramis.
 
- Is that all, Mister Duke? Colbert asked.
— I still have some property in France, movable and immovable. “It is currently under arrest,” Aramis replied.
“The procedure for lifting the arrest is quite lengthy,” Colbert answered.
“But I’m in no hurry,” Aramis continued. “I ask you to re-register it in the name of the son of Anne Genevieve de Bourbon-Cond;, Duchess de Longueville, called Charles-Paris.”
“I promise you this, Monsieur Duke,” answered Colbert.
“In that case, I promise you, Mister Colbert, that your house arrest will soon end and you will return to fulfill your duties as minister,” Aramis replied. “Just don’t forget about your promise, I ask you.”
“I have an excellent memory, Monsieur Duke, I will not forget,” Colbert replied.
- Excellent memory? - asked Aramis. “Apparently, you really haven’t come across the surname du Trabuson before.”
“Never in my life, believe me,” Colbert replied. - Otherwise I would remember.
“I believe you, Mister Colbert,” Aramis grinned. - So don’t get confused!
“I remember,” Colbert replied. - Charles-Paris, youngest son of Anne Janevieve de Bourbon-Cond;, Duchess of Longueville.
“All the best, Monsieur Colbert,” Aramis replied, after which he bowed reservedly and left Colbert’s office.

CIX. Princess of Monaco

“Tell me, de Guiche,” Philip turned to the count, “how long will we be deprived of the happiness of seeing your sister Catherine Charlotte at our court?” Why does she lead the life of a recluse?
—Are you talking about the Princess of Monaco, Your Majesty? - the count was surprised. “But she left for her own principality with her husband.”
“It seems to me that she didn’t really want to go to this wilderness,” Philip objected. “After all, after the wedding, she continued to live at court for quite a long time until your father, Marshal de Gramont, insisted that she leave the court and go with her husband to this very Monaco.
“I agree, Your Majesty, it also seemed to me that she really liked life at court.”
“So tell me that I will be very glad to see her,” Philip answered. “It’s not right for such a beautiful lady to bury herself alive in such a boring place, I think, as the Principality of Monaco.”
- Your Majesty deigns to invite the princess along with the prince? - inquired de Guiche.
- Of course, Count! - Philip answered. - Can I invite only one of the spouses without inviting the other? After all, husband and wife are one in two persons, according to the commandments of the Lord. As an honest Catholic, I have no intention of tearing my wife away from her husband. However, if the prince has reasons not to accept my invitation, it is his choice.
“I thank Your Majesty for the invitation on behalf of my sister and my brother-in-law,” replied the Comte de Guiche with a bow.
Philip nodded and went about government affairs.

Catherine-Charlotte did not come to Paris very willingly, but still arrived there with her retinue and appeared for an audience with the King.
As soon as Philip saw her, he realized that his whole life had been a prologue to this meeting.
“Princess, I am glad to see you at court,” he said in the benevolent tone of a monarch. “Your arrival will greatly brighten up the local society and bring long-desired diversity into it,” he added more softly.
“Your Majesty, thank you,” answered the princess. “You have always been kind to our family, but it seems to me that during my last visit to the Louvre I somehow upset you.”
“Oh, this ridiculous prank of your brother, who played a cruel joke on us, I’ve already forgotten about it,” said Philip, who was already aware of the reasons for Louis’s certain coldness towards the princess.
The story of this joke was that the King intended to pay the princess several compliments in private, and the princess's brother, de Guiche, having escorted the princess to the room intended for such conversations, locked the doors where his sister was and took the key with him. The king knocked on the doors and asked the princess to open them, however, she could not do this, which prevented the gallant meeting. Philip was in the depths of his soul very grateful to de Guiche for the fact that the princess did not hear the compliments prepared for her by Louis.
- Do you know, princess, that I thought a lot about you? - asked Philip.
“It’s difficult for me to understand the reasons for such thoughtfulness, sir,” answered the princess. “I hope that it is not that I have somehow offended you?”
- No, princess! Not in the least! - Philip exclaimed. “It seems to me that I know you a little better than you think, and what I know about you makes me think about you.”
“Apparently, the obnoxious de Guiche told you all sorts of tall tales about me?” - asked the princess.
“No, that’s not it,” answered Philip. — May I offer you my hand and invite you for a short walk through the blooming garden? I promise that your modesty will not suffer from such a walk.
“Here is my hand for you, sir,” answered the princess, lowering her eyes.

“Do you remember, princess, the unfortunate boy whom you met in your youth in the wilderness under the tutelage of two elderly duennas?” - asked Philip.
- Your Majesty, how do you know? - Katerina-Charlotte asked and her heart began to beat faster.
“Don’t you think that this boy is extremely similar to me?” - asked Philip.
“I always thought about this and could not understand the reasons for such an amazing similarity,” the princess admitted.
“Think about it what you want, but that boy was me,” Philip answered. - Do you believe me?
“Are you saying, Your Majesty, that you yourself voluntarily lived the life of a recluse while being crown prince?” - asked the princess in surprise.
“I cannot explain to you all the intricacies of this event, but believe me, princess,” said Philip, not daring to tell the princess the whole story of his life.
“Ah, Your Majesty, I don’t want to know anything except one thing,” answered Katerina-Charlotte. - Just tell me the truth, when you were sincere, whether when I met you, not knowing who you were and knowing nothing about your fate, or when, as King of France, you tried to tell me a few compliments in private, and, apparently, hoped for the continuation of this conversation in a direction that could cast a shadow on both the girl and the married woman?
“That young man whom you knew as Philip, who looked at you with a loving gaze for the reason that he had never seen any other young girl before, is now standing in front of you, princess.” The one who has now seen many young girls, ready to hear any compliments from him, even the most dangerous ones, looks at you with the same eyes, and still sees in you the most charming, the most beautiful, and the best girl in the world - sincerely Philip answered.
“You confuse me extremely, Your Majesty,” said the princess with a trembling voice.
“God knows, I didn’t want this,” Philip answered. - Let's just enjoy the beauty and aroma of a blooming garden, just stroll along these wonderful alleys and be silent.
The princess squeezed Philip's hand harder, which could only mean consent.

CX. Cannes

in this seaside town drew attention . According to the instructions received, he reported this to the person who instructed him to deliver information about the arrival of any carriage.
An hour later, when the travelers had only managed to settle down and satisfy their hunger, a man who looked like a naval officer appeared at the tavern.
“I want to talk to the head of this expedition,” the sailor said to the innkeeper. - Tell him that a messenger has come to him from Monsieur d'Herblay.
The innkeeper took the coin offered to him for this service from the counter and climbed the stairs to the second floor. A couple of minutes later he came down, accompanied by a gallant officer.
- Who sends me greetings from Monsieur d'Herblay? - he asked.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan, it's me! - answered the sailor.
- Glad to see a messenger from my friend here! - answered d'Artagnan. —Who do I have a chance to talk to?
“I am the owner and captain of the ship “Swift,” Captain Jourville,” answered the sailor. “My ship is at your service, which will take you to the island of Saint-Marguerite and back, or wherever you wish to sail, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
- I am very glad to receive such help, Captain Jourville! What else, besides what you said, did Monsieur d'Herblay tell me to tell you? - asked d'Artagnan.
“He told me to convey greetings to you from the one who once dropped Marie Michon’s handkerchief and stepped on it,” answered Captain Jourville.
“I see that you are who you say you are, captain!” Pleased to Meet You! - answered d'Artagnan and firmly shook the captain's hand.

Two hours later, the ship sailed towards the island of Saint-Marguerite. D'Artagnan ordered to go around the island and approach it from the south side. After the ship landed on the shore, he left the King under the supervision of Francois, d'Elsorte under the supervision of two musketeers, and he, together with d'Arlencourt, headed towards the fortress, where he repeated the same maneuver that he performed on his first visit. When he came within musket shot, he put a white handkerchief on his sword and waved it.
This time de Saint-Mars himself came out to meet him, accompanied by two guards.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan, is it you again? - asked the commandant of the fortress. - I hope you have good news?
“It depends on what you call good news, dear de Saint-Mars,” answered the captain.
“I’m looking forward to the royal commission that will free me from so many prisoners,” Saint-Mars answered with contrition. “The appetites of my prisoners ruin me, especially the appetite of Monsieur du Valon.”
“Perhaps we have brought you great news, and we will certainly deliver you from your prisoners,” answered d’Artagnan. - I want to make you happy. I have come again by order of the King, since men in public service do not come to border fortresses for any other reason than this. And with me, indeed, the commission you expect. I suggest the following procedure. First I will show you the order on the basis of which I came to you, then you will show me the order on the basis of which you detained M. du Valon and his companions, then M. d'Arlencourt will show you the order according to which he heads the very commission that you expect.
“Let’s go to the fortress, gentlemen,” answered Saint-Mars.
“So that you don’t have the desire to detain me there, I would still like to show you this paper first,” said d’Artagnan.
With these words, d'Artagnan presented de Saint-Mars with a document written by Philip, who had learned to completely copy Louis' handwriting. The document contained, as our readers probably remember, the following text:

"The King's Order

To the Captain of the Royal Musketeers, Count d'Artagnan
Return the prisoner Marchiali to the Pignerol fortress and hand him over to the commandant of the fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, under personal responsibility.
In relation to the prisoner, comply with all previously prescribed measures, namely:
1. Wear an iron mask in all cases of contact with any people who come into contact with him to provide him with food, drink, clothing, and other needs.
2. Not to enter into any communication with anyone, including not to talk, not to correspond, not to give any signs, and not to exchange information in any other way.
Prisoner Marchiali is allowed to read and is allowed to remove his mask when he is alone and all contact with other persons is excluded, including contact through the windows of the fortress.

Signed: King Louis XIV of France »

The royal seal gave no reason to doubt the authenticity of this document.

“So, I return the prisoner Marchiali to you, Monsieur de Saint-Mars.” - said d'Artagnan. — He's waiting on the ship. If you have kept the carriage I gave you, I would like to use it.
“I never thought to doubt your authority,” Saint-Mars lied. “Allow me, for my part, to present you with the King’s order.”
After these words, de Saint-Mars pulled out an order from his large pocket, which, as readers will remember, contained the following text:

“Order of the King to the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
Any persons arriving on the island of Saint-Marguerite for any purpose are to be detained and held under arrest at any cost until the arrival of a special investigative commission. Let everyone in, don't let anyone out. If possible, establish the goals of arrival, using abstract conversations and the appearance of a frank conversation until the moment when the arrivals try to leave the island or, even more so, take someone with them from the island.
For failure to comply with this order, the perpetrator will go to trial.
King Louis XIV ."

- Wonderful! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - Everything is absolutely correct, we are that very commission of inquiry. Lieutenant d'Arlencourt, please show the commandant your document.

Lieutenant d'Arlencourt, in turn, extracted and presented to Saint-Mars a document in which the commandant read the following text:

"The King's Order.

The lieutenant of the royal musketeers, Mr. d'Arlencourt, is entrusted, accompanied by the king's four musketeers, to go after the captain of the royal musketeers d'Artagnan, who is escorting the prisoner to the Pignerol fortress on the island of Saint-Marguerite. The lieutenant and his musketeers are charged with the duty of providing any necessary assistance to Captain d'Artagnan, at whose disposal he immediately comes. If any unforeseen incidents occur with Captain d'Artagnan's expedition, Lieutenant d' Arlencourt is instructed to conduct a detailed investigation into all the circumstances of the incident.
The authorities of all cities along the route of M. d'Arlencourt are ordered to provide him with all possible assistance as the head of the Royal Commission of Inquiry.

King Louis XIV of France ."

— Did you see the word “commission”, Monsieur de Saint-Mars? - asked d'Artagnan in the most amiable tone.
“I recognize your authority and fully rely on your decision,” de Saint-Mars agreed. “I hope that you will take these prisoners from me, and leave only Marchiali in exchange.”
“So it will be, Monsieur Commandant,” replied d’Artagnan, “you have no doubt, but, like any commission, we must first listen to your explanations about how these gentlemen ended up in your fortress.”

After listening to de Saint-Mars' short story, the captain said:
- Mister Commandant, you acted absolutely correctly and in strict accordance with the orders of His Majesty. We relieve you of the need to detain your guests, I ask you to immediately release them and allow them to sail wherever they please. This does not apply to Monsieur du Valon. I want to see him immediately.
“You will see him this minute, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” answered de Saint-Mars and, taking the keys, headed deeper into the fortress.
Ten minutes later de Saint-Mars returned, accompanied by Porthos.
- Porthos! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “I’m extremely glad that you haven’t lost weight!”
- D'Artagnan, did you also fall for the bait of this lying commandant? - exclaimed Porthos. “He seems to be planning to lock up the entire flower of the French nobility in his fortress?”
“Don’t be angry with him, Porthos, he carried out the King’s orders, but now you are free,” answered d’Artagnan. “Let me hug you, but I beg you, don’t hug me with all your might.”
- Dear friend, how glad I am! - exclaimed Porthos. - Finally, we will leave this damned island!
“Don’t rush, Porthos, I still have a small matter left, after which we will leave for the coast together, since, as I can judge, you did not accept my invitation to Scotland.”
- Scotland is so boring! - Porthos answered. “Besides, fate itself took up arms against this trip, first in the person of octopuses and shrimp, then in the person of Monsieur de Saint-Mars.
“Don’t be angry with de Saint-Mars and embrace your old colleague,” answered d’Artagnan.
This time he deliberately did not remind Porthos that he must be careful, so when the baron squeezed Saint-Mars in an embrace that, according to his understanding, was friendly, the commandant could not groan or sigh, but only bulged his eyes and tried to grab take a few breaths of air.
“Enough, Porthos, enough,” the captain came to the commandant’s rescue when he saw that Saint-Mars had already received sufficient retribution for his trick, and if such an embrace lasted a few more minutes, the poor commandant would need the services of a doctor.
- Porthos, tell me, was du Chante with you? - asked d'Artagnan.
“Yes, and he, too, I believe, is detained in this damned fortress,” answered the baron.
“Mr. Commandant, apologize to all those detained on behalf of the King and release them as soon as possible,” D’Artagnan reminded.
“ It’s already being done, Monsieur Captain,” replied de Saint-Mars.
“Porthos, I ask you to come with me to the ship in the carriage that the commandant will lend us,” said d’Artagnan. “We will only take the prisoner and return him to the place he should occupy.”
“I prefer to walk,” answered the baron. “I spent so much time in this damned cell that a walk in the fresh air wouldn’t hurt me.”
“We’ll take a walk together after completing our mission, Porthos,” answered the captain. “Time is running out, and the prisoner must be transported to the fortress by carriage.”
“We’re going,” Porthos answered briefly.

Within an hour, a prisoner was placed in the Pignerol fortress, with an iron mask on his head and a gag in his mouth.
“I remind you, Monsieur de Saint-Mars, that you must not allow the prisoner to say anything to anyone, including you,” said d’Artagnan. - You read it in the order. Also, remember that this person is crazy. Remain respectful to him within reasonable limits, but do not give concessions in anything, never, anywhere. You are responsible for it with your head.
“I understand everything, Mister Captain,” replied Saint-Mars, “and I am grateful to you for freeing me from all my random prisoners.” I hope that you will report to the King that his order was carried out exactly?
- Absolutely and only this way! - answered d'Artagnan. “Your actions are impeccable, your service is both dangerous and difficult, although at first glance it seems to be invisible. Expect an order of gratitude, bonus and compensation for unforeseen expenses. All the best, old man!
After this, d'Artagnan also said goodbye to du Chantet, the captain of the ship that brought Porthos and du Chantet to the island, and his crew.

CXI. Fate

Aramis was sitting bent over a map of Europe and making some notes when Bazin came in to see him.
“Monseigneur, by your order the du Trabuson couple have been delivered,” he said.
- How did everything go? - asked Aramis.
“As you ordered,” replied Bazin. “With the document signed by Colbert, I drove up to the head of security at the southern gate. He promised to send a carriage with these scoundrels, escorted by musketeers, to you. They were brought by Messrs. de Segal and de Truffaut.
“Let them lead this couple into the blue hall, I’ll go there now,” Aramis nodded.
Having completed his notes, the prelate rose and walked into the blue room, where de Segal and de Truffaut, accompanying the related spouses du Trabuson, were already waiting for him.
“Gentlemen, thank you, you are free,” Aramis said to de Segal and de Truffaut. - Here is the exculpatory document on the basis of which I am confiscating these defendants, read it. You can tell His Majesty that this document is with me, and I will return it at the end of my mission.
With these words, Aramis handed them a document signed by Colbert. De Sigal read it and nodded with satisfaction, after which both musketeers left Aramis.
“So, Monsieur Didier du Trabuson,” said Aramis after the musketeers left, “you allowed yourself to basely deceive me.” You treacherously killed my agent D'Aunay, plunging a sword into his back when he did not expect it. You attacked a convoy that was carrying out the King's orders, you tried to kill Captain d'Artagnan, and you killed the prisoner he was escorting on the King's orders!
- I am not to blame for anything! - exclaimed du Trabuson. - I acted on Colbert's orders! I will complain to Monsieur Colbert! - exclaimed du Trabuson.
“ As much as you like, Monsieur du Trabuson,” answered Aramis. - But first, would you like to familiarize yourself with this document?
With these words, Aramis took the document from the table and showed it to du Trabuson so that he could read it. The document read:

“The bearer of this document, the Duke of Alameda, is free to take the spouses Didier and Olivia du Trabuson to punish them for the atrocities they committed against the King and his soldiers.
Signed: Minister of Finance, Head of the Chamber of Justice Jean-Baptiste Colbert"

“The Duke of Alameda has recently been my name,” Aramis continued. - So, Mr. Colbert disavows your actions and hands you over to me, instructing and trusting me to punish you for the state crimes you have committed.
- I am not guilty! - Du Trabuson continued to deny. - It's all her, Olivia! She made me kill D'Aunay! It was she who shot the prisoner, and she who threw the bomb at d'Artagnan's carriage!
- Damn you, nonsense! - Olivia said with hatred and spat in du Trabuson’s face.
“We have already discussed possible actions on my part, Monsieur du Trabuson, in the event of your betrayal.” If you remember, on the ship with Captain d'Argenson, we had a detailed conversation on this topic, don't you remember? - asked Aramis. “You promised me obedience, and I warned you what fate might await you if you decided to deceive me.”
“I don’t want to know anything and I don’t want to remember anything!” - exclaimed du Trabuson.
“Repent of your sins, tell me the whole truth and accept your fate as a Catholic should,” Aramis suggested. - Have a drink and calm down.
With these words, Aramis took one of the three goblets that stood on the table in front of them and brought it to du Trabuson's lips.
“I don’t want to die either as a Catholic, or as a Huguenot, or as a heretic, or as a Muslim!” I am not guilty of anything, and you must let me go! - du Trabuson did not let up. - I won't drink this!
“I’m not going to kill you, du Trabuson,” Aramis replied, shrugging his shoulders.
After this, Aramis drank to the bottom from the cup that he offered to du Trabuson.
“I assure you, du Trabuson, the drink that I offer you can only make your fate easier,” Aramis smiled. “And you, madam, would you like to drink from this cup?”
“Come on,” Olivia said coldly. - I hope it's poison.
After that, she calmly drank the drink offered to her.
“And you, Du Trabuson, prefer to endure all the torment you deserve?” - asked Aramis.
- To hell with you! - exclaimed du Trabuson, seeing that nothing terrible had happened to his wife, she had only plunged into a state of mild intoxication.
Aramis brought the goblet to Du Trabuson's lips, which Didier emptied in three gulps.
After that, Aramis left the blue hall. Didier looked after him with hatred, and suddenly felt that his head was becoming heavy, all the objects before his eyes swam, he felt deep calm and fell into a long sleep.

Du Trabuson, in his sleep, heard voices that seemed to be quarreling in a language unfamiliar to him.
He felt someone gently kick him, then a bucket of cold water was poured on his face. Snorting, he barely opened his eyes and looked around.
Before him stood a Turk in rich clothes.
- Wake up, you wicked man! - said the Turk in broken French. “ You will eat my eunuch.” My people will teach you what you must do. These women will complete my harem.
Du Trabuson looked where the Turks were pointing his finger and saw his wife.
- Yes, yes, I will be your harem! - Olivia smiled and looked affectionately at the Turk, after which she looked at Didier with hatred and spat in his direction again.
- Stop! You can not do it this way! - exclaimed du Trabuson. - I disagree! I can't be a eunuch!
“I know that you are not yet ready to be a eunuch,” answered the Turk. - My orders are that yours will be a good eunuch. My people will make you a eunuch. Hassan, make this man a eunuch!
- It will be done, lord! - answered the one to whom the richly dressed Turk addressed, and stroked with his hand the curved dagger hanging on his belt.

CXII. Swift

The ship "Swift" sailed from the island of Saint-Marguerite. D'Artagnan approached Captain Jourville and said:
- Captain, we are going to the island of Saint-Honorat.
“I obey, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” replied Captain Jourville.
After these words, d'Artagnan went down into the hold and addressed his prisoner.
“Your Majesty, as you can see, the trap you prepared for me on the island of Saint-Marguerite did not work.” I left this island safely and, in addition, took my friend from it, whom you apparently recognized.
- You lied to me, d'Artagnan! - exclaimed Louis. - Baron du Valon did not die at all!
“He is alive, Your Majesty, and this is a great success not only for him and for me, but also for you,” agreed d’Artagnan. “If he had died, then I would have hidden you in the Pignerol fortress forever.” Fate took care of him and you, leaving the baron alive. For this reason, I do not feel the hatred towards you that I would have felt if he had died.
- What is the improvement of my fate? - the King asked in disbelief.
“I had to deliver the prisoner to Pignerol, and I delivered him,” answered d’Artagnan. “I had to leave one prisoner in the fortress, and I did it.” But I judged that the scoundrel D'Elsorte was more deserving of the fate of a perpetual prisoner than Your Majesty. Therefore, I put an iron mask on him and handed him over to the commandant of the fortress of Saint-Mars under the name of Marchiali. Do you, Your Majesty, have any objections to my decision?
“I fully approve of him, captain,” nodded the King. - But what will happen to me?
“We are going to the small island of Saint-Honorat, Your Majesty,” answered the captain. “Here on it there is an excellent place called L;rins Abbey. I invite Your Majesty to settle here and devote his life to prayer. Of course, I will have to ask the abbot to perform the ceremony of tonsuring you as a monk.
- This is violence! - Louis objected.
- Yes, Your Majesty! - answered d'Artagnan. “But this is much less violence than what you intended to inflict on my friends, Baron du Valon, Bishop d’Herblay, Comte de La F;re, Viscount de Bragelonne and me, your faithful servant.” And this is less violence than that which you intended to inflict on all the inhabitants of the castle of Vaud and on all the inhabitants of the fortress of Saint-Yves. And this is less violence than you inflicted on M. Fouquet. And also, I insist on this, this is less violence than you committed against your own brother, Philippe de Bourbon, the legitimate son of the King of France Louis XIII , who has exactly the same rights to the French throne as you, Your Majesty! Am I wrong?
“Aren’t you afraid that I will get out of this damned island and regain my throne?” - asked Louis, in whose voice one could hear more despair than anger.
“ You won’t succeed, Your Majesty,” answered the captain. “You will be tonsured a monk; no one will recognize you as the King.”
“The hair can grow back,” said the King in a fallen voice.
“They won’t grow back if you cut them regularly, Your Majesty,” the captain objected.
- If I run away and don’t cut my hair, I can grow hair on my head and appear at the Louvre as a double of the King, and demand that the courtiers recognize me as their rightful King Louis XIV .
“This could happen with a small probability of success if you were exactly like yourself, Your Majesty, but do not flatter yourself with hopes, you are no longer like the King your courtiers know,” objected d’Artagnan. - Look in this mirror.
With these words, the captain handed Louis a small mirror.
- What it is? - exclaimed the King, looking in surprise at the two wide black marks on his forehead. -Where did this come from? Can this be washed?
“When Madame Olivia du Trabuson shot at your head, which was wearing an iron mask, this mask took the blow of the bullet and saved your life, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan. - But a small blow was transferred to your face. You received two shallow but very wide wounds, after which you immediately wiped away the blood with my handkerchief. I did not warn you that with this handkerchief I was tying up a barrel of a certain powder that looked like gunpowder. Hindus use this powder to make indelible patterns on the skin, which they call tattooing. In order to make such a pattern, you just need to slightly damage the skin and rub this powder into it. Madame Olivia contributed to Your Majesty receiving two wide wounds, and you yourself, without any violence on my part, wiped these two wounds with a handkerchief that contained tiny crumbs of this powder. Those two large tattoos on your forehead, Your Majesty, make you look a little like the King of France. And don’t bother to bring them together, because in this case two deep scars will remain in this place, which will also not allow you to pass yourself off as a double of the King, who is currently sitting on the throne of France.
- Scoundrel! You set this up on purpose! - exclaimed the King.
- The word of a nobleman, it happened by accident! - answered d'Artagnan. - But, you must admit, fate showed you a little favor. Instead of sitting in a dungeon with an iron mask on your face, you will live relatively freely in the abbey, you will be closer to God than your brother, and you probably have an eternal life ahead of you, which will be spent in paradise if for no other reason that you will not have the opportunity to commit those sins that would close this opportunity for you. Think: eternal bliss in exchange for court intrigue! You would probably prefer the latter, but you have no choice, not anymore, believe me.
“At least untie my hands,” Louis said in a tired voice. - I'm tired of fighting. Perhaps it’s really time for me to turn to the Lord.

CXIII. Blois

Three weeks after the scene we have described, two horsemen rode early in the morning through Blois and ordered the establishment of falconry. The king wished to hunt in this area. The two horsemen were the king's hunters, whose duty was to prepare for the royal hunt. After examining the area, they began to discuss the details of the upcoming hunt. A minute later, they were joined by a third, with gray hair, with the same gray pointed beard and mustache beginning to turn gray.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said one of the hunters who acted as head of the hound hunt, “This place is quite suitable for a royal hunt.”
“Okay,” replied d’Artagnan. — I haven’t been to these places for a long time.
— You, it seems, went to Pignerol and just returned? - asked one of the hunters.
“Yes, I visited someone there,” answered d’Artagnan.
- How is he doing? - asked his interlocutor.
- Who? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“Fouquet,” answered the hunter.
- How do I know? - The captain shrugged. - Mister Fouquet is not in Pignerol, but in the Bastille.
-Who were you visiting then? - asked the curious interlocutor.
“Monsieur de Prejean, you are still a newcomer to the court,” answered d’Artagnan, “but it’s time for you to know that such curiosity does not contribute to good health and longevity.” Engage in royal hunting.
At that moment, the royal hunting procession appeared in the distance.
The musketeers were commanded by Senior Lieutenant d'Arlencourt.
“What news is there at court, d’Arlencourt?” - asked d'Artagnan after the cortege followed the royal hunters.
“The Queen Mother has died,” answered the senior lieutenant.
“Lord have mercy on her,” said the captain and crossed himself. “A whole era has passed with her.”
“But His Majesty did not indulge in grief for too long, as you see,” answered d’Arlencourt. “Three days have passed and now it’s a royal hunt.”
“Well, that’s in the order of things,” answered the captain. — How is Queen Maria Theresa doing?
“Jealous as always,” answered d’Arlencourt.
- Is it really still to Mademoiselle de La Valli;re? - D'Artagnan was surprised.
“Mademoiselle de La Valli;re has retired to a monastery, the King has a new passion,” answered d’Arlencourt. - Sister of the Comte de Guiche, Princess of Monaco.
D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders and looked into the distance, where the king and his entourage rushed.
One of the riders separated from the cortege and rode back to meet d'Artagnan. Immediately two other horsemen, apparently acting as bodyguards for this gentleman, also rode after him.
“Who is this coming to us, d’Arlencourt?” - asked d'Artagnan, who was ready to swear that he recognized this position of the rider in the saddle. - It seems to me that this is...
“The Duke of Alameda, Ambassador of Spain,” answered d’Arlencourt.
- Aramis! - D'Artagnan cried and galloped towards the ambassador.
- Glad to see you, d'Artagnan! - Aramis exclaimed when they were close enough that they could talk calmly without raising their voices.
- I'm happy to meet you here! - answered d'Artagnan. - What destinies?
“I represent the interests of Spain at court, didn’t you know?” - asked Aramis.
- Aramis, I'm happy for you! - D'Artagnan said again. - I'm just happy!
-Are you happy, d'Artagnan? - asked Aramis. “I would be happy too, but my happiness is hampered by the eternal grief in my heart.” I am so guilty before all of you!
- Come on, Aramis! What self-examination! Smile! What's eating you? - asked d'Artagnan.
“Porthos...” said Aramis.
- What about Porthos? - D'Artagnan was surprised. - Well, Porthos. And what?
- After all, he died in the Lokmaria cave! - Aramis sighed. “I will never forgive myself for this.”
- Aramis, damn you! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “I thought you had these people everywhere, like their legates, or spies, or whatever you call them?” So, drive them all away, they work very poorly if they have not informed you that Porthos is alive.
- Porthos is alive?! - Aramis exclaimed. - Is he alive? This is true?
- I can’t leave this place! - answered d'Artagnan. “He’s alive, damn it, and you’ll see him soon.”
- It can’t be! - Aramis whispered. - Thank you, d'Artagnan, thank you!
“Thank him for his strong body and great patience,” answered the captain. - And quite a bit - one of his comrades, who happened to be nearby in time.
- D'Artagnan, I never cease to be surprised by you, but this is the second time that I simply feel like a boy in comparison with you! - said Aramis.
- When was the first time? - asked d'Artagnan.
“ When I saw the little finger of the King’s left hand,” Aramis answered. - Without a scratch!

“Listen, Aramis,” suggested d’Artagnan. “Hunting has never interested me, nor, I suppose, has it interested you.” Meanwhile we are in Blois! We simply must visit Athos.
- Athos in Blois? - Aramis was surprised again.
- And now he has new eccentricities! - D'Artagnan answered with a smile. - Do you know that we can look at his grave, which, God willing, he will not lie down in soon.
- The grave of Athos? - Aramis was even more surprised.
- Of course! - confirmed the captain. “Through the efforts of your agents, Athos and Raoul were saved, but the news of their deaths was so reliable that I myself believed in them at first. Documents about their deaths were compiled by the commandant of the Candia fortress. It was also said there that the count’s body was taken by unknown people, and Raoul’s body was buried in a trench occupied by the Turks. Poor Grimaud was so upset! And he ordered two coffins to be placed in the family crypt, in which he placed some personal belongings of the count and viscount. When Athos arrived in Blois, Grimaud's joy knew no bounds. Having learned about the misunderstanding, Athos decided to leave everything as it was.
- For what purpose? - asked Aramis.
“You know Athos,” d’Artagnan shrugged. “The Lord does nothing in vain,” he said. “Perhaps it would be better for us to be in these coffins.” In any case, we won’t keep ourselves waiting long.” However, such quirks do not scare me. In all other respects, Athos remained the same Athos as we know him.
—Where do you say this crypt is located? - asked Aramis.
“We will see him on the way,” answered d’Artagnan. - Let Bazin warn the retinue about your absence. D'Arlencourt! Take command! I'm going to Blois Castle to visit an old friend!

However, d'Artagnan and Aramis did not find the count in his castle. Grimaud, who met them, said that the count had received some kind of letter, after which he very quickly got ready and left, without telling either the purpose of his trip or the place.

CXIV. Diplomacy and war

Two days later, Colbert visited the residence of the Duke d'Alameda, where, to his displeasure, he found d'Artagnan.
- Hello, Mr. Colbert! - said d'Artagnan in such a tone that from the outside one might think that he was glad to greet his old friend.
This tone did not deceive either Colbert or Aramis.
“Glad to see you here,” Colbert replied in the same tone and with the same result.
“You apparently have a conversation with the Duke, so I don’t dare disturb you,” said d’Artagnan, without taking a single step towards the exit.
- Oh, what are you, what are you! Colbert exclaimed. “Can a French minister have a confidential conversation with a foreign ambassador that the captain of the royal musketeers cannot hear?” - he continued, feeling the falseness of his tone and his phrase.
“I have no secrets from Monsieur d’Artagnan, I never have and never will, ” Aramis said without blinking an eye in such a tone that even d’Artagnan almost believed him.
“Mr. Duke,” Colbert said to Aramis, “I do not know the reasons for your conflict with the King and I do not know the reasons for the establishment of complete agreement between you.”
“That’s true, Mister Colbert,” Aramis smiled. “Of course, I cannot inform you in this regard without His Majesty’s consent, even if I wanted to, but I don’t want to.” I also don't think you need to know this to be more successful in your role. Moreover, I do not assume that you have the right to ask me questions on this topic. So, you said this simply in order to push away from this situation, and, having acknowledged it, to talk about how you propose to build a future relationship with me, or, to be more precise, you are interested in how I propose to build my relationship with you. I answer: as if nothing of what you are talking about took place. Are you satisfied with this answer to a question you didn’t ask?
“I have always believed, Duke, that diplomacy consists in saying nothing very skillfully, but you have crushed my opinion, since you have very skillfully told me a lot,” Colbert replied.
“So much the better, dear minister, I’m listening to you,” Aramis nodded coldly.
“I believe, Monsieur Duke, that now that we have brought complete clarity in the relations between us, the time has come to bring complete clarity also in the relations between our countries,” Colbert continued. - Tell me, can France count on the neutrality of Spain when resolving some of our issues with Holland?
“Mr. Minister,” answered Aramis, “if you call war with this state the solution to some issues with Holland, then Spain, I believe, will not take the side of Holland.” But Holland is a maritime power! Is France ready for war at sea? How many victories did she win in naval battles? Some victories of the Duke de Beaufort with Turkey would be a good answer to my doubts, but the Duke, alas, went missing during a sortie in one of the battles, it seems, with the Turks. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the exact name of this place.
- So, you believe that a war with Holland can take place, that it will be at sea and that France is not able to wage a naval war? Three such meaningful answers to my question? Thank you Colbert said. - What do you think about this, Monsieur d'Artagnan?
- I think that the outcome of naval battles is decided, of course, at sea, but the outcome of a war consisting mainly of sea battles is decided on land. Therefore, in order to fight this naval war, France will need a strong land army.
- As you said? - Colbert was surprised, deciding that he had misheard. — Why land?
At these words, Aramis only raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“Because if England doesn’t help us, and she won’t help us, we’ll be beaten at sea.” - answered the captain. “Consequently, the Dutch will not miss the opportunity to capture our ports, and those that the Dutch do not capture will be captured by the British.” If France loses its ports, it will lose its entire kingdom, into which the Spaniards will pour. In addition, T;rkiye will not miss the opportunity to take revenge from the south.
- Why don’t you admit that Spain will remain strictly neutral? - Aramis asked.
“Spain will be neutral as long as France is stronger than the enemy or at least equal in strength,” answered d’Artagnan. - No country can remain neutral, seeing easy prey at its borders. I would rather believe that a pack of hyenas may not pay any attention to the carcass of an antelope, littered with a cheetah.
Colbert, suppressing his admiration, continued:
- Who told you, Mister d'Artagnan, that France does not have a strong fleet?
- What are you saying, I didn’t say that. - the captain laughed, - I had very little experience of military operations at sea, and I was convinced that the commander-in-chief could not do anything with his flotilla, especially when the most junior naval officer had letters in his pocket giving him powers greater than given to the commander-in-chief.
Colbert pretended not to notice the captain's hairpin.
“Thanks to my efforts, our fleet has been enriched with thirty-five warships over the past six months,” Colbert said proudly. — These are battleships, fast and equipped with cannons in accordance with the regulations.
— Thirty-five ships? - D'Artagnan was surprised. - I like this type of activity of yours, Mr. Colbert.
“The king currently has about two thousand guns,” Colbert bowed, flattered. “Thirty-five ships are three strong squadrons, but for the war with Holland we need to have at least five squadrons.” The King will have them by the end of the year.
- Where did you get so many guns? - asked d'Artagnan.
“I built a factory in Toulon,” answered Colbert.
—Have you built a weapons factory? - asked Aramis.
“The minister does not build the plant himself, Monsieur Duke,” Colbert replied. “I found Monsieur d’Infreville, and Monsieur d’Infreville built a factory.” He knows how to select the best craftsmen and make them work. He casts cannons in Toulon and cuts ship timber in Burgundy. And Mr. Detouche builds ships and launches them.
“You have gathered significant resources, Mister Colbert!” - D'Artagnan admired.
“Now it’s time to get involved in politics.” I need Spain's neutrality.
“If England helps France, I may be able to guarantee Spain’s neutrality,” answered Aramis.
“If you could guarantee the neutrality of Spain, I could guarantee that England would help France,” Colbert replied. — By the way, the other day the King said that he would be extremely pleased to see the ribbon of the Order of St. Michael on you.
Aramis bowed.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” continued Colbert, “how do you feel about the campaign against Holland?” Can you swim?
“Like an eel,” answered d’Artagnan. “Especially on one of the fifty ships of the line.”
“The ships will take you and your musketeers to the coast of Holland,” Colbert agreed. “But then you will have to go through marshy areas, where it is not always possible to find reliable crossings. Even the best swimmers often drown in such places.
“My profession is to die for the King,” answered the captain. - But die in battle, not in a swamp. So I'll just have to swim out.
“So,” Colbert began, “you have nothing against Holland?”
“Personally, I have nothing against it, but if the King has something against this country, it is my duty to explain to them that he is right with the help of the arguments with which His Majesty provided me,” answered d’Artagnan and patted his sword with his palm.
“The king will supply you with everything you need, I promise you this as Minister of Finance,” said Colbert.
“Consequently, I will not only go myself, but also lead my musketeers into battle,” answered d’Artagnan.
“The King’s guards will also come under your hand,” Colbert replied.
“They should be informed that they will be subordinate to me,” d’Artagnan smiled, “and I must be sure that they will not have orders on the basis of which my authority can be challenged or revoked.”
“Your doubts will disappear by themselves,” Colbert replied, “when you find out that a marshal’s baton is already being made for you.”
“May you fail with your marshal’s baton!” - thought d'Artagnan. “Whenever he’s mentioned, I’m in for some big trouble!”
“Well, in any case, at least some help in crossing the swamps,” he said, trying to pretend that he was interested in this proposal.
“Undoubtedly,” Colbert agreed. “I don’t know of a single case where a Marshal of France drowned.”
“Well, Monsieur Minister,” replied d’Artagnan, “you can tell the King that the first battle under my command will end in victory or my death.”
“In that case,” said Colbert, “I will order that today they begin to embroider the golden lilies that will decorate your marshal’s baton.”

CXV. Heir

The young man entered the office of the all-powerful minister.
- Hello, dear Auguste! - Colbert greeted him joyfully. - When will I have the happiness of seeing your respected mother and your dear father?
“My parents have disappeared somewhere, Mister Minister,” answered Auguste.
- Can't be! - Colbert exclaimed with ostentatious surprise. - Let me go! I remember that there was some message about a bandit attack on the guardsmen. Wait a minute! — Colbert rang the bell.
He said to the secretary who looked through the door:
“I need a file on the attack at the southern gate of Paris.”
A minute later, the secretary brought a folder in which were written in different handwritings the testimony that Colbert himself had invented two hours ago.
- That's what it's all about! - he exclaimed. - The last name is spelled incorrectly here. It is said that the case is about the du Trois-Bessons, when in fact it is apparently about your parents, Didier du Trabucon and Olivia de Trabucon! Surely! How could I not have guessed it!
- What about my parents? - Auguste du Trabuson asked anxiously.
“If there is no mistake here, and if we are really talking about your parents, then I’m afraid I have bad news for you, young man!” - Colbert said in a concerned and sympathetic tone. “These people were captured at the southern gates of Paris by order of Captain d'Artagnan and taken away in his carriage to an unknown destination.
- Order him to return my parents! - Auguste begged.
- Ta-ta-ta, young man, don’t rush, I’m not omnipotent! Colbert falsely protested. “Did you know that the captain of the royal musketeers is almost equivalent to the marshal of France?” If the King wants to arrest me, then Monsieur d'Artagnan is the person who will carry out this order. I cannot quarrel with such a person without sufficient grounds, and, besides, this is the testimony of witnesses whom we could not find. In other words, I cannot attach great importance to these documents; it is as if they do not exist. I would have to throw them out, since these statements are not confirmed by anyone. I will do so, but first, out of respect for your honorable parents, I will let you get acquainted with them, just promise me that you will never tell anyone about what you read here, much less that you read it here and I have.
With these words, Colbert handed Auguste a folder full of slanderous fabrications against d'Artagnan, compiled by himself and recorded under his dictation by several of his clerks.
As he read, Auguste's fists clenched more and more, and his face became paler.
Having finished reading, he returned the folder and exclaimed:
- I'm going to kill him!
- Under no circumstances, young man! - Colbert objected. “If you take such an action, you yourself will be executed.” Besides, you will not be able to cope with him, do not forget that he is always well armed and controls his weapons better than anyone in France.
“I’ll attack him at night when he doesn’t expect it,” said Auguste stubbornly.
“It’s better, but still not the same,” Colbert continued to object. - In order to kill a person, it is not at all necessary to kill him personally, with your own hands. It is much more reliable to collect information against him that will kill him at the hands of the royal executioner. Besides, wouldn't you want your parents back? And if you kill him, you won’t learn anything about them. No, young man, you need Captain d'Artagnan to be in your hands so that you can dictate terms to him. Then you will be able to return your parents and take revenge on him as you see fit.
“I will do whatever you say, Monsieur Minister,” replied Auguste du Trabuson.
“This is already quite good,” Colbert nodded. “But first we will get rid of documents that are completely useless and even harmful to us, and which, I hope, you have read carefully enough, so carefully that you never forget what is written in them.”
With these words, Colbert threw the folder into the blazing fireplace.
“By the way, Captain d’Artagnan had one accomplice, whose name I cannot yet tell you,” Colbert continued. “But later we’ll deal with him too.”
Thus, Colbert received another spy, having at his disposal several dozen similar people, each of whom was attracted to his side not only by money, but also by similar methods, which allowed Colbert to be quite confident in their obedience.

An hour later, the secretary reported to Colbert that Mr. d'Epernon, who had been invited to him, had arrived.
- Come in, dear Duke! Colbert exclaimed. “I’m glad to see a son of such a brilliant family!” I have heard a lot about the exploits of your venerable and noble father, Duke Jean Louis de Nogaret de La Valette d'Epernon! The offspring of such a wonderful family! I believe that you should rightfully hold the position of captain of the royal musketeers! And where do we see you? Guards Lieutenant! This is not enough, let me say with all responsibility!
“I have never shown zeal in a military career,” answered the Duke, the eldest son of his illustrious father, whose titles the minister took the trouble to list. - And military fortune is not for me.
“There are moments when Fortune herself rushes to the one who is worthy of mastering it,” Colbert said enthusiastically. - France needs heroes like you, Duke! And France will not be slow to appreciate its hero! The post of captain of the royal musketeers will be yours!
“Where are you going to take M. d’Artagnan?” - asked d'Epernon with disbelief.
“He believes that he will be elevated to Marshal of France, but in fact he will be humiliated to the Bastille, I’m telling you this, Colbert!”
“Sounds good,” agreed d’Epernon, “when the vacancy you speak of becomes available, I will be at your service.”
- Wait, dear Duke! - Colbert objected. — Vacancies are not vacated by themselves, except in cases where the person who occupies them is hopelessly old or terminally ill.
“Consequently, you make me promises that are postponed indefinitely,” d’Epernon chuckled. - This doesn't inspire me.
“You can speed up this deadline without any danger at all, dear Duke, all you have to do is fulfill one small order of mine,” said Colbert. - I will give you four guardsmen, you will go to the island of Saint-Marguerite with my order, and on the basis of this order you will bring me a prisoner who is being held in the Pignerol fortress. This simple order will open the way for you to the vacancy we are talking about, since I am almost sure that this prisoner will tell us something that will allow us to remove Captain d'Artagnan, who is interfering with me and you, to the Bastille.
- And where is this letter? - asked d'Epernon with disbelief.
“Here it is, read it,” Colbert replied and placed the paper in front of the Duke.
In this document the Duke read the following:

“Order of the Minister of J.-B. Colbert
The commandant of the fortress of Pignerol should hand over to Monsieur d'Epernon the prisoner Marchiali, whom Monsieur d'Epernon should deliver to the disposal of Monsieur Colbert, maintaining all precautions in relation to this prisoner.
Signed: J.-B. Colbert."

The order was affixed with the minister's seal.

- What other precautions are there? - asked the Duke.
“There’s a mask on his face and a gag in his mouth,” Colbert smiled.
“That means don’t talk to him or listen to him,” nodded the Duke.
“Exactly,” Colbert agreed happily.
“What if this prisoner Marciali doesn’t tell us anything in Paris?” - d'Epernon doubted.
“He doesn’t have to tell you anything; moreover, I’m not just asking, but I’m asking you very urgently, I’m ordering you to be silent with him and not to ask him any questions on the way to Paris.” This is precisely the most difficult part of my assignment, and in this part I can only trust you,” Colbert continued. - I know you as a person who is not curious.
- Not at all curious! - the Duke agreed. “If he can’t tell me directly what I must do to become captain of the musketeers, we have nothing to talk about.”
“The fact of the matter is that he can’t tell you anything like that directly,” Colbert agreed. - I'll tell you more. There are many things that indicate to me that this person is out of his mind, so you shouldn't talk to him, and you shouldn't even let him say anything. And if he says something, you shouldn’t take it seriously. I will talk to him myself, me and only me. I have my own methods. I will be able to distinguish the truth from the nonsense that he can carry when communicating with any person. And since you will receive him in a mask, let him not take it off for a moment.
“All this seems somehow doubtful, Mr. Minister,” d’Epernona doubted. “Besides, I don’t want to be the captain of the royal musketeers so much as to get involved in some kind of intrigue.”
“I’m not getting you involved in any intrigues, you’ll just go and pick up whoever they give you on my orders and bring them to me,” Colbert continued his persuasion. “You won’t even have to bear the expenses.” This will cover all travel expenses.
With these words, Colbert took out a wallet with money from his desk drawer, which contained not only gold coins, but also silver ones, as a result of which he seemed somewhat more solvent than he really was.
D'Epernon, who does not need money, but also does not intend to spend his own funds to please some ministers, assessed this act of Colbert quite favorably.
“Well, in the end I have nothing to lose,” he replied. - A walk to the sea at your expense will at least entertain me.
“Take your four guards, leave a deputy in your place, and leave tomorrow morning,” Colbert said, summing up the results.
“I will return with your Marciali,” replied d’Epernon, put on his hat and went out.

CXVI. D'Artagnan

A week before this conversation, d'Artagnan came to the Major of the Royal Guards, Comte de Shuzo. He decided to help Francois arrange his career, but first the young man had to achieve recognition from his comrades and superiors through his own efforts, so he decided not to take him into the musketeers and not to provide patronage, hiding the fact of kinship, which he himself no longer doubted at all.
“Count, I present to you my fellow countryman Fran;ois de Perrin,” said d’Artagnan. —I have already tested it in practice and recommend it to you with a pure heart.
— Do you recommend it in writing? - asked Count de Shuzo with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about the story when a certain fellow countryman of yours arrived with a letter of recommendation, which was stolen from him on the way to Paris.
“It is for this reason that I do not rely on written recommendations and came myself to confirm my recommendation specifically in relation to this brave young man,” answered the captain. “He is ready to go through all the hardships of military service, and I will be glad if you do not make a favorite out of him, but give him the opportunity to prove in practice what he is worth.”
“Mr. Captain,” Francois intervened. “I thank you for such a recommendation, this is exactly what I was counting on, and if you say one more word as a recommendation, it will be unnecessary.”
- I like this young man! - answered de Shuzo. “With your recommendation, captain, I would enlist anyone in the company of guards, but the modesty with which you formulated it says much more about you and your prot;g; than a five-page letter of recommendation.” Young man, consider yourself accepted!
D'Artagnan thanked the count, bowed and said goodbye to both.

Returning home in the evening, d'Artagnan found a letter with which the Duchess de Chevreuse invited him to talk as soon as possible. The captain considered that the time was not so late that such a visit could be considered indecent, so he put on his hat again and went to the Louvre, to the wing in which the duchess's apartments were located.
As soon as the duchess was informed of the captain's arrival, she immediately demanded him to come to her.
- Oh, dear Count! - said the duchess, extending her hand to the captain for a kiss. - I am very glad that you responded to my invitation so quickly! I have to tell you one important thing, and I hope that you will understand me.
“I’m listening to you, duchess,” answered d’Artagnan.
“You will understand why I am addressing you,” the duchess continued. “We have known each other for a long time, in absentia, and saw each other several times at the King’s reception, but we never talked like this, face to face.
“No time has been lost,” the captain smiled. - Duchess, you are still one of the most brilliant ladies at court.
- Oh, captain, leave it! - the duchess blushed. “You are excellent not only with a sword, I know that, but you won’t fool me.” I have heard so many compliments in my life that I have learned to distinguish those that come from the heart from those that are a tribute to simple male politeness.
“Duchess, you are too cruel to yourself and to me,” objected d’Artagnan.
“Get to the point, Count,” said the Duchess. “The question that worries me is urgent. I am very worried about the Comte de La F;re.
- What's wrong with the count? - the captain asked hastily.
“You see, this person is not indifferent to me due to certain circumstances,” the duchess tried to explain her concern.
- What about the count, duchess? What makes you worry about him? - the captain continued more insistently.
— He received a letter that prompted him to go on a dangerous journey. I'm afraid this is a trap? - said the duchess. “Perhaps it’s my empty suspiciousness, but I’m afraid.”
“Duchess, I beg you, tell me everything in order,” the captain interrupted her.
“He received a letter that the Duke de Beaufort is alive, that he was captured by the Turks, and that a ransom is required to save him,” answered the duchess.
- How do you know this, and why do you think this letter is a trap? - asked d'Artagnan.
“You forget who my cousin is, Mr. Count,” answered the duchess. “The Duke de Rochefort informed me that the Comte de La F;re set out on this dangerous journey almost alone. True, Rochefort told me that Baron du Valon went with him, but it seems to me that he got something wrong, because the baron, as everyone knows, died in the Lokmaria cave on the island of Belle-Ile.
“You are well aware, duchess, the baron really died, but your brother did not go crazy,” answered d’Artagnan. - Carry on!
“The count told my brother that he could not reveal these circumstances to anyone at court, since they both learned that some kind of conspiracy had been drawn up against the duke,” the duchess continued. — By the way, my brother found out about this from me. So, Minister Colbert decided to get rid of Beaufort, so asking the court for help to save the Duke is pointless and even dangerous. Therefore, the count went there on his own. Rochefort also wanted to join them, but the count agreed to take him as an escort only to the Turkish border. This means that the letter he received contained conditions according to which the count could not come to Beaufort's rescue accompanied by a large number of people. The writer of this letter demanded that the count arrive alone, or accompanied by a servant, or with only one of his friends. This condition worries me. I thought it might be a trap. Rochefort thought the same thing, and he shared his suspicions with the count. Do you know what Count de La F;re answered him?
- I think that the count said that he is not afraid of traps, that he is ready to trust fate and his sword, and also that when duty requires him to come to the rescue of the grandson of Henry IV, nothing will force him to refuse to do this debt,” answered d’Artagnan.
- Almost word for word, he also said the following words: “For the sake of the grandson of the great Henry IV , who is in captivity and needs my help, I will do even what I would not do for the sake of the grandson of Henry IV , sitting on the throne.”
“So he went there accompanied by only one person, as you say, and did not inform either me, or his son, or his faithful Grimaud of the purpose and place of this journey, since he did not want anyone to help him or look for him.” , - summed up d'Artagnan. “This suggests that he very seriously suspected a trap.” And he didn’t want anyone else to take risks with him.
“I think so too, Count,” agreed the Duchess.
“What else did your brother tell you, Duchess?” - asked the captain.
“He said that the meeting place is the very fortress where the Duke de Beaufort disappeared,” answered the duchess.
- Thank you, Duchess! I have to go! - answered d'Artagnan.
- It’s me who thank you, captain! Don't waste time! - the duchess answered and again extended her hand to him for a kiss.

CXVII. Confession of Louis

Louis, who remained in the monastery, decided to confess to the abbot.
“Holy Father, I want to repent of my sins,” said Louis. - I was plotting murder.
“My son,” answered the abbot. — Evil plans are a great sin, but it is also a temptation. If you have given up your plans, then you have resisted temptation. Therefore, repent and I will forgive this sin.
“I have not abandoned these plans at all, Holy Father,” Louis objected. “Fate prevented me from fulfilling my plans.” Perhaps my plan was poorly thought out, or my enemies turned out to be more cunning than me, but I did not give up my plan.
“The Lord restrained you, my son,” the abbot answered affectionately. - The Lord loves you. Read “Our Father” fifty times, and I will forgive you your sin.
“Holy father, that’s not all,” Louis continued. “On my orders, people went to their death and died, and killed other people.
“My son, in worldly life you were the one who could give orders,” answered the abbot. “But above all of us stands the King, and above the King is the Lord.” If the King gives orders, then this matter is only on his conscience, but we, his subjects, must carry out these orders with all zeal as the Lord's will. I forgive you this sin too.
- Holy Father, but I raised my hand against my own brother! - exclaimed Louis. “And I don’t know the reasons why the Lord could forgive me this sin.” I took away his freedom, I took away from him everything he could count on. What should have belonged to both of us, I took one for myself.
“I don’t see anything but clothes on you.” You don't have any property. This means that what you took away, you have already given to the church or to the poor, if you came to the monastery,” answered the abbot.
“I have nothing because my brother took back both his share and mine, and now I am left a beggar, I have nothing, not even freedom,” Louis answered.
“If the Lord punished you for your sin with the hands of your offended brother, this means that he punished you for it during your lifetime.” “You have been punished, I forgive you this sin,” the abbot answered.
“If the Lord forgave me,” Louis objected, “then why did he reward me with the seal of Cain?”
With these words, Louis brushed aside the hair on his forehead and showed his forehead to the abbot.
“What seal are you talking about, my son?” - asked the abbot. — About these two barely noticeable stripes on your forehead?
- Barely noticeable?! - exclaimed Louis. - Barely noticeable, you say? After all, I saw two wide black stripes all over the forehead!
“Probably these were superficial injuries to the skin, my son,” answered the abbot. “If the Lord had marked your forehead with the seal of Cain, you would not have been able to remove it by any means.” This same mark is very fuzzy, almost completely erased.
— Almost completely erased? - exclaimed Louis. - Barely noticeable? He deceived me! Sneaky d'Artagnan! He treated me like a boy! Holy Father, I need a mirror!
“We don’t keep mirrors in the monastery, my son,” answered the abbot. “I forgive you your sins, go, pray and cleanse your heart before the Lord.”
- Thank you, holy father, thank you! - Louis answered and left the cell.
“Mirror, I need a mirror! - he thought. “I have to make sure for myself that these are not empty words!” Perhaps the priest simply decided to deceive me, knowing that there were no mirrors here. Yes, of course I shouldn't believe him. I desperately need a mirror!”
That same evening, Louis turned to the keeper of the gifts.
- Tell me, my dear, are there any objects that have mirror surfaces among the gifts stored under your vigilant care? - he asked as if by chance.
“Perhaps there are no mirrors in our monastery,” answered the keeper. “We should not admire ourselves, but should appear before the eyes of the Lord as he created us.”
“I’m worried about one splinter that I would like to remove, but it’s in such a place that I can’t see it,” said Louis.
“I can help you with this,” answered the keeper.
- No, no, under no circumstances! - Louis objected. “I’d rather suffer for the rest of my life!”
“I understand,” said the keeper. — There is one object whose surface is almost mirror-like. This is the bottom of a silver reliquary with gold overlays, in which the relics of St. Ambrose are kept. But it’s a great sacrilege to use the reliquary for such worldly purposes.
“If I would like to donate this ring to the monastery,” said Louis, removing the diamond ring from his left hand, “but I would also very much like to personally inspect the storage of gifts in order to choose an appropriate place for storage, because, I believe, you could give me provide such an opportunity? However, I will not talk about my gift, Abbot, because it may very well happen that this ring is not valuable enough to be kept in a vault, although it contains a diamond of the purest water. In this case, I will ask you to keep this ring with you and dispose of it according to your own understanding.
“Be careful with this reliquary,” replied the keeper, taking the ring from Louis’s hands and taking the key to the vault from his pocket. “Although I cannot swear that it actually contains the relics of St. Ambrose, they say that these relics have the greatest effect on male strength, even if you touch the reliquary with your hand.” If the splinter that is troubling you is located in greater proximity to the concentration of this force, I am afraid that it will be difficult for you to subsequently observe the regime of abstinence, although there can be nothing else within the walls of this monastery. However, I can give one piece of advice on this topic...
“Thank you, this is unnecessary,” replied Louis, hastily taking the key. “I’ll return it in half an hour, but now I ask you to leave me.”
After these words, he headed towards the vault doors. Having found the reliquary he needed, he hastily grabbed it, turned it over and looked at the polished bottom. The abbot did not deceive him: Louis saw his face with barely noticeable two dark stripes on his forehead. There was no doubt that in two or three weeks there would be no trace left of these stripes.
“Nothing is lost yet,” thought Louis. - I can still get everything back! First, I must leave this monastery and this island. I have to grow my hair, but it doesn’t matter, because there are a lot of wigs in the palace! I must protect my face, my voice! And I need friends!
Louis was right, he needed friends. It is rare that a monarch has friends, and not one of them understands how necessary they are, and how rare they are. Captain d'Artagnan, who could have been one of them, was grossly deceived and rejected. Louis even wanted to destroy him. Can this person, after everything that happened between them, become friends again?

CXVIII. De Saint-Mars

According to Colbert's instructions, the Duke d'Epernon took four guardsmen from the Comte de Chuzo and headed to the island of Saint-Marguerite. Among these four selected was Fran;ois, but not at all by chance, since, making his choice, the Duke asked which of them knew the road to Cannes better. Of course, Fran;ois replied that he had recently gone there, so he was chosen to accompany him.
The trip was uneventful, since this time no spies followed the travelers.
Upon arrival in Cannes, d'Epernon rented a small boat and sailed straight to the island of Saint-Marguerite.
Unlike the cautious d'Artagnan, the Duke sailed to the island by the shortest route in order to land from the northern shore, in close proximity to the Royal Fort fortress, called the Pignerol fortress in royal orders.
As soon as the ship approached so much that there was no doubt about the purpose of its further journey, smoke rose above the fortress wall, after which the sailors heard the sound of a blank cannon shot.
D'Epernon was extremely surprised at such an inhospitable reception from his compatriots.
- Lower the boat into the water! And give me a white flag,” he ordered.
As soon as the boat with the guardsmen acting as rowers and d'Epernon standing in its center with a white flag floated to the shore, the commandant of the fortress de Saint-Mars, accompanied by two guards, came out to meet the arrivals.
-What do you want? - he asked.
“I am the Duke d’Epernon,” answered the Duke, “I have an order signed by Minister Colbert to hand over to me a prisoner of the Marciali fortress.”
“Show me your order,” replied Saint-Mars, “but do not go ashore.”
D'Epernon shrugged his shoulders and handed de Saint-Mars the paper.
“That’s right,” replied Saint-Mars, having read the order and returning it to d’Epernon. - Return to Paris and report to Colbert that this order is insignificant. According to the order of the King, the said prisoner can only be delivered up by order signed by His Majesty personally and bearing his seal.
-Are you disobeying the minister's orders? - d'Epernon was surprised, realizing that his mission had failed, but decided to make another attempt. - Do you know that he has the power to deprive you of your allowance and exile you anywhere, including turning you from a commandant into a prisoner of this very fortress?
“Very possible, Monsieur Duke,” replied Saint-Mars. “But I know my service, and, having in my hands a document that says that only His Majesty can decide the fate of this prisoner, I cannot obey anyone else. Mr. Minister will not allow such injustice against me just because I carry out the King’s orders with the utmost precision. In case it occurs to you to try to take the prisoner by force, I warn you that my garrison is sufficient to repel much larger forces, my gunners have more than just blank charges. With two shots they will sink both your boat and the ship on which you arrived. Please do not be offended and understand me correctly, Mister Duke, but in case of disobedience to the order of the King, we will consider your ship a legitimate target. Please convey to the Minister my deepest respectful bow.
With these words, Saint-Mars turned around and went into the fortress.
D'Epernon was furious. But he had no choice but to give the order to return to Paris. He was infuriated that he was returning with nothing, and he was just looking for an opportunity to take out his anger on anyone. Such a mood of such a significant person did not bode well for the random traveler he met. The first on whose head the Duke called thunder and lightning was, of course, de Saint-Mars. Second on this list of hated persons was Captain d'Artagnan, since Colbert's unfulfilled order left the captain of the musketeers in his previous position, which most naturally closed for d'Epernon the prospect that Colbert had drawn for him.

Meanwhile, Saint-Mars considered it best to describe the events of that day in a letter addressed personally to the King and send it by courier, for which he sent one of his servants.

Louis knelt in his cell and asked the Lord to send him a sign that he had friends on whom he could rely. If he had any, he could count not only on a successful escape, but also on their help in regaining the throne.
Suddenly, the sound of a cannon shot came from the direction of the island of Saint-Marguerite. Louis shuddered.
“This is a sign,” he said in a whisper, turning to the image of the Savior. - Thank you, Lord, for this sign. I understand. You will support me. Now I’m not afraid of anything, I ’ve made up my mind.
After this, Louis crossed himself three times and went to the keeper.
“I’m terribly sick,” he said. - Tell me to invite a doctor to me.
“There is no doctor here,” answered the keeper.
— What do you do when a novice needs the help of a doctor? - asked Louis.
“We pray,” answered the keeper.
- But my illness is very serious! I am torn apart by severe pain! I have a hard time coping with them! - exclaimed Louis.
“Well, in exceptional cases, the abbot releases novices ashore,” answered the keeper. “The next time a ship arrives with food for us, you will be able to leave the island on it if the abbot gives his permission.”
- Talk to him about it! - Louis begged and twirled a ring with a magnificent sapphire around his finger.
“I’ll try to convince him,” said the keeper, without taking his eyes off the ring.

CXIX. Philip

Some time later, Philippe casually signed documents prepared by Colbert. He did it so quickly that from the outside it might seem that he was not carefully reading the documents he was signing, but that would have been a mistake. Over the long years spent in captivity, where books were his only joy and only entertainment, Philip learned to read documents so quickly, barely glancing at them, that it took him three or four seconds to understand the contents of one handwritten sheet of paper.
Not knowing about this skill of Philip, Colbert decided to place among the papers an order for the extradition of the prisoner. At the same time, Colbert tried to distract the King with conversation.
“Your Majesty, the construction of ships is in full swing,” he said.
“Wonderful, Monsieur Colbert, what about the guns?” - Philip answered, signing another document.
“The guns are also cast in full accordance with the order,” Colbert replied.
“You are doing an excellent job of strengthening my fleet,” Philip praised the minister. - What kind of order is this?
Colbert bit his tongue. His hopes that the King would sign the order to extradite the prisoner without reading it were not justified.
“I need to talk with the arrested Fouquet, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied. “I ask you to sign an order for this right.”
“But it says here that the bearer of this order can, at his discretion, remove the prisoner from his place of residence, doesn’t it?” - asked Philip. - What is this note for?
“The fact is, Your Majesty, that Mr. Fouquet is aware of some previously made payments, for which, as I assume, the orders were not fulfilled. The papers were not preserved, but the deal was concluded. Having clarified this information, we could demand either a refund or delivery. I do not expect M. Fouquet to be so kind as to give me all the necessary information about the suppliers, since he probably does not realize that the punishment which Your Majesty has given him does not relieve him of responsibility for the transactions he has entered into and paid for it while in his post as superintendent of finance,” Colbert replied. “In order for him to cooperate more favorably and provide all the information, I will need to provide him with convincing motives for such actions.” Having in hand the document by which I can release him, I will be able to show him this paper, which will be a very effective means of forcing him to tell me everything I need to know.
- But you are not going to release him, Mr. Colbert? - asked Philip.
- Under no circumstances, Your Majesty! - Colbert answered, but, catching himself, added, “Except if it pleases Your Majesty to command this.”
“So, you are going to deceive him, Monsieur Colbert,” Philippe nodded dryly.
- For the good of France, Your Majesty! Colbert exclaimed. “For the good of France and the King, I am ready to deceive my own mother!”
“You can get away with it, but only once, Mr. Minister,” Philip noted. “Next time you won’t be able to learn anything from Fouquet.”
“Once is enough, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied.
“Okay, okay, Monsieur Colbert,” answered Philippe and pretended that he was going to sign the document.
Colbert's heart fluttered joyfully, but Philip made only a small point.
“Mr. Minister, you, always so attentive, in this case drew up this document extremely carelessly,” Philip said with a sigh.
- Really? Excuse me, Your Majesty, where do you see negligence? - Colbert answered with feigned surprise.
“It is written here that the bearer of this document can take the prisoner from the fortress, and the commandant is ordered to provide the bearer of the document with all necessary assistance,” answered Philip. - But you are talking about specific people, about a specific prisoner, about a specific fortress and a specific commandant. Let me correct that.
With these words, Philip added a few words to the document, which was continued for him to sign.
“Well, now everything is as it should be,” said Philip. “I’ll read it myself, and you make sure there are no mistakes.” It says here: “Order of the King. The bearer of this document, Mr. Colbert, is allowed a meeting with the prisoner Fouquet, held in the fortress of the Bastille. The bearer of this document, Mr. Colbert, can also personally pick up the prisoner at his discretion, and the commandant of the Bastille fortress, Mr. de Bezmo, is ordered to provide the necessary assistance to the bearer of this document, Mr. Colbert. This document is valid for three days from the date of signing, after which it should be cancelled.” Well, now everything is in perfect order, you can sign it.
After these words, Philip placed monograms in the empty fields so that nothing could be added to the document, put the date, signed the document and handed it to the stunned Colbert.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied and fell silent, waiting for Philippe to sign the rest of the papers.
Colbert left the King's office in a rage. He would have liked to immediately tear the order to shreds, but decided to do it in his office and without witnesses.
At this moment, the King's secretary, Hubert, turned to him.
“Mister Minister,” said Hubert, “His Majesty asks you to come see him for a couple more minutes.”
Colbert nodded and returned to the office.
“Mr. Minister,” Philip said softly. — When did you plan to visit Fouquet?
“The other day, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied absently. - Perhaps tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow.
“Okay,” Philip answered. “Don’t go away too long or far today, I might need you.” And don’t forget to tell me how your conversation with Fouquet ended. I'm very interested in this.
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied, bowed and left.
"Damn it! - thought Colbert. - I really need to meet Fouquet! But now there’s nothing you can do, you have to. And I still need to come up with convincing information that I will supposedly receive from this defeated proud man.” After that, Colbert carefully folded the received document and put it in a folder with the rest of the papers.
As soon as Colbert left the reception room, Philippe rang the bell again.
“Hubert, invite Captain d’Artagnan to see me,” Philip said to the secretary who entered.
- Captain d'Artagnan has just arrived. “He would like to see Your Majesty,” Hubert replied.
“Ask,” Philip answered with a nod.

CXX. Captain

“Your Majesty,” said d’Artagnan with a bow. - Did you want to see me?
“Just as you wanted to see me, captain,” answered Philip. - Let's start with you. What did you want from me?
“I ask for leave, Your Majesty, for two weeks,” the captain replied.
- Vacation? Now? When is the war with Holland about to begin? — Philip was surprised.
“Exactly, before it starts, I would like to settle some personal matters,” answered d’Artagnan.
— What personal matters might you have, captain? Are any of your friends in danger again? — Philip smiled. “But it can’t be Monsieur d’Herblay, because there’s nothing wrong with him.” However, Baron du Valon and Comte de La F;re are dead, aren't they? Or am I missing something?
D'Artagnan suddenly realized that Philip did not know about the true fate of his friends. “Does Philip need to know the truth? - he thought. - Trouble with these Kings! You never know what will come to their minds!” Therefore, he decided to answer evasively.
“I have other friends, Your Majesty, whom I now especially value after the losses you speak of,” he replied. — I must take a short trip.
— Out of a sense of duty? - asked Philip.
“ You could say so,” answered the captain. “Besides, in this case, this trip meets one of my most ardent desires.”
“I need you here, captain,” Philip answered.
“Sir, I only ask for two weeks,” d’Artagnan repeated stubbornly. - I ask you as a special favor. I would not like to remind you of the service that...
“Which you just reminded me of, captain,” Philip interrupted him. “But I would like to remind you of your own words.” You told me that Prince Philip could not become King if he depended on an adviser, whoever he was. At present, I have become the kind of King who does not depend on his advisors or friends for anything. I realized that the King cannot have friends. Playmates don't count. Women don't count either. I have firmly learned your lesson, captain. I studied a book by the Italian author Nicolo Machiavelli called “The Prince”, as well as his other books. I learned to see when I was being deceived, and I learned to discern personal interests under the guise of friendship. However, I have retained my complete trust and respect for you, captain. So don’t remind me of the service you wanted to talk about. If you want to see on the throne a King who will be your eternal debtor, and who for these reasons will become your puppet, I will disappoint you. It will not happen. But my gratitude goes far enough. I will not persecute you and your friends, of whom, unfortunately, there are so few left, but this is more than I have, for, I repeat to you, the King does not and cannot have friends. So, Mr. Captain, I'm looking forward to a frank conversation. Which of your friends are still alive? I do not ask how you managed to convince Louis that your friends, Baron du Valon, Comte de La F;re and Viscount de Bragelonne, were killed. I saw documents about their deaths. I want to know which of them is alive. So?
“The Vicomte de Bragelonne, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan. “He miraculously survived, but I have reason to fear for his life, so I must meet with him as soon as possible.”
“I see that you don’t fully trust me, Mr. Captain,” Philip answered coldly. — Little lies give rise to great mistrust. Well, I will give you a vacation, but first I ask you to do one small task for me.
“I’m listening to you, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan.
“For some reason, Mr. Colbert needed a meeting with Fouquet,” Philippe answered. “But it is possible that he was not going to meet with Fouquet at all, but with the prisoner that you and I know about, but about whom Colbert is not aware.”
“Mr. Colbert has many sources of information,” the captain noted.
“But not information like this,” Philip objected. “I wish Colbert to continue to remain ignorant in matters that do not concern him.” You must pick up M. Fouquet from the Bastille today and take him to Pignerol under the supervision of M. de Saint-Mars. Tomorrow may be too late. I will write the order immediately.
After these words, Philip took pen and paper and wrote the following:

"The King's Order.
Mr. Captain of the Royal Musketeers d'Artagnan, remove the prisoner Fouquet from the Bastille fortress and escort him to the Pignerol fortress.
Monsieur de Bezmeaux hand over the prisoner Fouquet to Captain d'Artagnan.
Monsieur de Saint-Mars to take under his hand the prisoner Fouquet from Monsieur d'Artagnan.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France »
 
“The order to transfer this prisoner’s allowance from the Bastille to Pignerol will still pass through Colbert’s hands,” said d’Artagnan.
“This will be an order without mentioning names,” Philip answered. - Mister Colbert has recently preferred such impersonal orders. In addition, such a trifle does not necessarily have to pass through the hands of the intendant of finance.
— Is that all, Your Majesty? - asked the captain.
- Almost. “I am not asking you to meet with the prisoner Marciali, but you must ensure that all previously issued orders regarding the regime of detention of this prisoner are carried out,” Philip continued.
— Will there be an additional written order on this topic? - asked d'Artagnan.
- Meaning? - asked Philip. — In the previous order everything was said quite clearly. If I demonstrate once that orders of this kind should be confirmed from time to time, sooner or later my officers may think that if the order is not repeated, it need not be carried out.
“You are absolutely right, Your Majesty,” the captain agreed.
“And one more thing, Monsieur d’Artagnan, I would like to tell you this,” Philip continued. - You should never expect others to thank you for what you have done for yourself. Now go.
The captain bowed and left the King's office.

D'Artagnan took two musketeers with him and headed to the Bastille.
Having presented the commandant of the Bastille de Bezmo with the order of the King, d'Artagnan asked to be escorted to Fouquet.
“Of course, Mr. Captain,” Bezmo replied. “You are taking another prisoner from me.” Perhaps, if this continues, I will remain idle.
“I assure you, Monsieur Marquis, the Bastille will not remain empty, and you will not be left without work,” answered the captain.
“But Fouquet’s salary was the largest, not counting Marciali’s,” the commandant objected. - You are taking away my most profitable prisoners!
“I can tell you a secret that the reason I’m taking them away is because their allowance has been sharply reduced,” d’Artagnan replied with a wink. - So you have nothing to lose. On the contrary, if these prisoners remained with you, and their allowance was reduced, this would not only hit you personally in your pocket, but would also do a disservice to the reputation of your institution. If these prisoners are subsequently released, they will tell everyone that at first they were fed quite well, after which they suddenly began to feed them very simple food. In this case, they can reach direct personal accusations.
- Horrible! - Bezmo exclaimed. - Take this Fouquet quickly! I don't want him to speak ill of the Bastille.
“For my part, I will also make every effort to maintain the reputation of the Bastille at the proper level,” d’Artagnan answered seriously. - Let's go to Fouquet.
Seeing d'Artagnan, Fouquet stood up and mentally prepared for the worst.
“Hello, Monsieur Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan. — The king decided to show concern for your health. We are going to the South Sea.
“You’re joking, Mister Captain,” Fouquet responded, but tried to smile.
- Not at all! - answered the captain. — Beautiful coastline in the very south of France! A heavenly place! I've been there before. Cannes. A small town, a cape between the Ligurian and Belearic seas. Wonderful climate! If I were richer, I would set up a resort there, and the rich people would shell out their money for the right to spend a week or two there. However, this is nonsense, you won’t have to pay. You will be provided with a separate room on the island overlooking the sea. There is even a carriage and a couple of horses on this island; I brought them there myself, although it would take no more than ten minutes to trot from one end to the other, and even less to gallop. And yet, the island has a lake, a beach, a fortress, and it offers a wonderful view of the monastery located on the neighboring island. Wonderful places!
— Maximum distance from Paris! - Fouquet picked up.
“Listen, Monsieur Fouquet, I myself would be happy to get as far away from Paris as possible, but business won’t let me go,” answered d’Artagnan. - We'll ride on horseback. You will give me Fouquet's word that you will not try to escape, I have two musketeers with me, we all have loaded muskets and swords, but, however, your word will be the best guarantee for us if you remain the same Fouquet that I had the honor of know.
“Word to Fouquet, I will not make an attempt to escape and will go with you to where you are taking me without the slightest resistance,” Fouquet replied.
“This makes me happy, because I thought that sitting in a carriage would not be as interesting for you as riding on horseback,” said the captain. - A horse ride won't hurt you. However, if you wish, we can hire a carriage on stages in the cities through which we will pass.
- Thank you, captain, thank you! - Fouquet replied. - I will really be glad to ride on horseback!
“You will make me completely happy if you agree to wear this soft rag mask in public places, and especially in cities and villages,” said d’Artagnan, taking a pre-prepared mask of a gray almost metallic color from his pocket.
“Accepted,” replied Fouquet.
“You will, of course, not enter into conversations with those you meet and will not try to reveal your identity, much less call on anyone to free you,” continued d’Artagnan.
- I gave my word to Fouquet! - exclaimed Fouquet.
“I am glad that I will not have to say that if you try to break this word, I would rather allow my musketeers to kill you than allow you to escape,” the captain continued. “But that’s only if I’m not talking to the Fouquet I knew.”
After this, the captain led the prisoner out of the fortress, and the four horsemen moved towards the southern gate of Paris.

If d'Artagnan had looked around more often, he would have noticed that another horseman was rushing behind him at some distance. It was Auguste du Trabuson.

CXXI. Trip with Fouquet

So, the four horsemen set off on horseback towards Cannes. These were d'Artagnan, Fouquet, de Parisot and de Segal.
“ Monsieur Fouquet, relax and enjoy the trip,” said d’Artagnan. - I am your friend as much as possible.
“I have heard a great many such assurances,” said Fouquet. “But life has shown that they are worthless.”
“You have heard such words from people who expect to receive money from you, because you heard them in those days when large sums of money were at your disposal,” objected d’Artagnan. “Even expressions of gratitude from such people were one form of request for new cash injections. Whereas I cannot expect anything from you, since you cannot give me anything. My friendliness consists in the fact that I am ready to carry out any instructions if you have them, and if they do not contradict my duty. I can fulfill them without any hope of gratitude simply because I deeply like you.
“Even now, when I’m broken?” asked Fouquet.
“Precisely now, when you are crushed,” confirmed the captain.
“I will not ask you to take care of my family, because I know that the King did not touch my loved ones and did not allow them to be completely ruined,” Fouquet replied. “And I will not ask you to take care of me, since the question of how and where to keep me is apparently decided by the King.”
“You cannot know with all certainty about the fate of your family, because they may deceive you,” objected d’Artagnan, “but you are right, your wife and your children are quite settled.” I will try to get you a date with your family, but I don’t promise anything.
- Thank you, captain! - exclaimed Fouquet. “I didn’t ask for this and couldn’t hope for such a thing, all the more valuable is your offer, even if you don’t succeed.” Perhaps I cannot think of any significant request that you could fulfill and that I would load you with.
“That says a lot about you, Monsieur Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan. - However, think about it. The path is long, perhaps you forgot something.
- Thank you, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - Fouquet said again. - You are very kind.
“Tell me, Monsieur Fouquet,” said the captain after a pause, “have you ever thought that perhaps you made a mistake in returning the one whom the Bishop of Vannes had overthrown to his original place?”
- For mercy, Mister Captain! - exclaimed Fouquet. “I understand perfectly well that I only made an unsuccessful attempt to do what you are talking about, while you completed this mission from beginning to end, and with ease!”
“Let’s say so,” the captain agreed, “but if the result depended entirely on your will, what would you do?”
“This is a difficult philosophical and political question, as well as a question of conscience and religion,” answered Fouquet. - You are right, I really thought a lot about this topic, and although I have many arguments both for and against, I never came to a final conclusion.
“Then I’ll clarify the question,” d’Artagnan continued. “I’m not asking you how you would act in certain circumstances, but I will ask how you would do nothing?” After much thought, if you could go back to that moment, would you choose to remain inactive in a situation in which you, on your first impulse, chose to act, and quite decisively?
“The first impulse is not always the wisest, but always the most worthy,” answered Fouquet.
“This is only true of worthy people,” objected d’Artagnan. — For mercantile people, the first impulse is always aimed at personal gain.
“You have told me either too much or too little to have a productive conversation,” Fouquet said.
“Who told you that I’m trying to have a productive conversation?” - D'Artagnan smiled. “I’m just entertaining myself and you with idle chatter to brighten up the trip.”
“It seemed to me that you needed advice,” Fouquet said thoughtfully.
“If I need advice on how to act most wisely, I will turn to Monsieur d’Herblay; if I need advice on how to act most nobly, I will turn to Comte de La F;re,” objected d’Artagnan. “If I need advice on how to act most valiantly, I will turn to the Baron du Valon, and if I need advice on how to act most madly, I will ask the Viscount de Bragelonne about it.”
- In what case are you asking yourself, Mr. Captain? asked Fouquet.
“In all other cases, or in the case where I need advice on how to act at the same time as the most reasonable, and the most noble, and the most valiant, and, perhaps, the most insane,” answered the captain. - In this case, I give myself advice myself.
— That is, practically, almost always? Fouquet smiled.
“You see, Monsieur Fouquet,” answered d’Artagnan. “I know my friends so well, or rather, we have become so much one and inseparable, that I do not need to ask Athos or Aramis or Porthos what they would advise me to do.” All I have to do is mentally ask a question to one of them, and in my head I can almost hear their answer.
—Have you tried to verify the accuracy of your forecasts? asked Fouquet.
“There was no occasion for this,” answered the captain. - However, this is of no use. I do not pretend to guess accurately or to know my friends thoroughly. If I could predict their every word, it would simply be uninteresting for us to communicate. But I think I know enough about the spirit of the basic views of my friends.
“Listening to you, captain, I begin to think that I have never had friends,” Fouquet said thoughtfully.
—Who did you consider the Bishop of Vannes to be? - asked d'Artagnan.
“I considered and still consider him my friend, but not in the sense that you said,” Fouquet replied. - This is a noble man who understood me in everything and supported me, and whom I supported.
“This is called an ally, Mr. Fouquet,” the captain clarified. - Any alliance lasts as long as it is beneficial to both parties. As soon as an alliance is not beneficial to at least one party, that party leaves such an alliance.
“Why do you rate our friendship with M. d’Herblay so low?” asked Fouquet, feeling somewhat wounded.
“If any of our four ended up in the Bastille, everyone else would do everything possible and impossible to get him out,” answered d’Artagnan. - I never doubted it. If three of us were in hell, the fourth would go down to hell to get the rest out.
“I’ve never had a single friend like that,” agreed Fouquet.
“But you yourself tried to become such a friend to the King, didn’t you?” - asked d'Artagnan.
“This is not friendship, this is the duty of a French citizen and an honest subject,” Fouquet sighed. “A duty of honor and a duty of hospitality, since the King was kidnapped from my home.”
“You wasted the diamonds of your soul on the wrong people, Monsieur Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan sadly.
“I know, and I’ve been reproaching myself for it ever since I met you!” - exclaimed Fouquet.
“Listen, Monsieur Fouquet, our conversation is becoming too sad,” said d’Artagnan. - Tell me some fable from your friend La Fontaine.
Fouquet burst out laughing and began to recall and read one after another the fables of the famous fabulist, because thanks to his excellent memory, which allowed him to store huge columns of expenses and income in his head, he memorized these fables word for word from the first reading and could even recite them, imitating the intonation and voice of La Fontaine.

CXXII. Candia

Athos, Porthos and Rochefort arrived in Bari. There they rented a small fast sailing vessel, on which they went to the island of Crete. According to the conditions stipulated in the letter, only a boat with two people should have approached the Candia fortress, otherwise the Turkish guns would have sunk the ship. Although Greece was not at war with Turkey, such conditions made travel even on a Greek ship quite risky, as for the two people who were supposed to go on the boat, the guarantee of their safety was only the “word of honor” of the authors of the letter, and knowing how Since the Turks were not obligatory in those days even towards their allies, this trip could be considered madness.
Athos did not want to take Porthos with him, who was going to visit an old friend and met him as the count left Blois. At first they agreed that Porthos would guide the count only a little, but little by little, Porthos extracted from the count, who did not know how to lie, information about both the purpose of the trip and its danger. If the count, like the cunning Aramis, had told Porthos that his trip was not at all dangerous, he would still have had a chance to dissuade Porthos from the idea of traveling together. But as soon as Porthos became aware that the trip undertaken by the count was fraught with mortal risk, it became simply impossible to dissuade the baron from participating in this trip.
“Listen, Athos,” said Porthos. “I already died once in the Lokmaria cave.” I’ll tell you honestly that this is not a pleasant experience, but I’ve already experienced it. I don’t agree to die of hunger for the second time, in darkness and cramped conditions. I prefer to get shot or hit with a sword. If I die fighting for one of my best friends, then I will have something to tell St. Peter or the devil in the next world, depending on who meets me there. If my second death is as bleak and disgusting as my first death was, I simply will not survive it!
- Porthos, my friend, you are full of strength, and you can live a long and happy life! - Athos objected. - Why do you need to die?
- Why not, for that matter? - Porthos objected. “I’m not at all going to die just like that, with nothing to do.” But I am a musketeer from head to toe. Even in my youth, I exposed my breast to any rude person who dared to offend me, and it is not my fault that my sword turned out to be more agile, or my fist stronger! However, I'm used to risking my life over such trifles that it's time for me to finally settle down! To die in a duel with some royal henchman would be extremely offensive at my age. It is much better to die in the fight against the Turks, or defending your friend, or, at worst, helping out the grandson of Henry IV . It’s not a shame to talk about such a death among children.
- Do you have children, Porthos? - Athos was surprised.
“I suppose not, but who among us can vouch for this?” - Porthos grinned. “It’s unlikely that I have children of a noble family, but if some village woman from Pierrefonds or Brassier tells me that I have them, I cannot swear on the Bible that she is lying.”
“Well, then you think you can tell one of these children about your death yourself?” - Athos smiled.
“Such an important matter cannot be entrusted to someone else,” Porthos answered with all seriousness. — Writers always twist everything; there is not a drop of truth in their books.
- You find? - asked the count. - How many books have you read, Baron?
“That’s precisely why there haven’t been any since Madame Coquenard passed away to a better world,” answered Porthos. “The last books I saw were the ones she read aloud to me.” I always fell asleep so sweetly to her monotonous voice! Some of them were charmingly boring. You know, with descriptions of nature, rural or urban views, or those where the author allowed himself to philosophize to the fullest at the expense of the patience of his readers.
“Wasn’t Messrs. Coquenard angry with you because you fell asleep while reading it?” - asked Athos.
- Why would she be angry if I asked her to read precisely for the purpose of falling asleep faster? - Porthos asked innocently.
“So, Porthos, you absolutely do not allow me to take care of the safety of your life?” - asked Athos.
“Athos, if you told me that you were in my place, you would let your friend go alone in such a situation...” answered Porthos.
- Not a word, my friend! - Athos answered. - You are right, of course. If I were you, I would do exactly the same.
“So why can’t I do what you would do?” - Porthos smiled.
After that, the friends shook hands, hugged each other and never returned to this conversation.

When the ship on which our friends were sailing came within cannon shot of the Candia fortress, the captain gave the command to anchor and lower the boat.
“If we don’t return by evening, weigh anchor and go to the port of Gramvous,” Athos said to Rochefort. - If after this period we can get away from the Turks, we will try to get there, to Gramvous. If we're gone for three days, come home.
“We will wait for you for three days here at the roadstead, Count, after which I will decide for myself how to proceed,” Rochefort replied.
“Well, if our mission is successful, then the differences between these two plans are not significant,” Athos agreed. - If it is unsuccessful, no one has the right to prohibit you from acting at your own discretion.
After this, Rochefort shook hands with Athos and Porthos, and held the rope ladder along which they descended into the boat.
Four Turkish soldiers, as well as an officer and an interpreter, were waiting on the shore for Athos and Porthos.
—Have you arrived following a letter from Ahmed Pasha? - the officer asked through an interpreter.
“Yes, we came to discuss the ransom for the Duke de Beaufort,” answered Athos.
“Come with us,” the officer answered and walked towards the fortress.

CXXIII. Fortress from the inside

“Come here,” the officer said, without an interpreter, in broken French. “Soon you will see the one you came here for.” Please place your weapons on this table; when you leave here, they will be returned to you.
Since Athos and Porthos were armed only with swords, they laid them on the table.
“Now let’s go to the Duke de Beaufort,” said the officer. - Follow me.
After that, an iron door with thick iron bolts was opened in front of them, the friends went down to the basement and approached the next iron door.
“We’re almost there, come in,” the officer said and opened the door for them.
Seeing that there was another door in the cell that was opened in front of them, the friends entered the cell, believing that the Duke de Beaufort was waiting for them behind the next door. However, as soon as they entered, the iron door slammed behind them.
Porthos looked in surprise at Athos, who smiled sadly in response, as if saying that he did not rule out such a development of events.
A minute later, a barred window opened in the door, and a woman’s face appeared in it.
- Count de La F;re! - said the woman. - I’m very glad to see you here! Let me introduce myself, Olivia Celik. My husband is Ahmed Celik, also known as Ahmed Pasha. By my previous husband, I am Olivia du Trabuson. God, how I've been waiting for this moment!
“Madam, I do not have the honor of knowing you,” Athos said coldly. - You will obviously give me information about the Duke de Beaufort?
“Of course,” Olivia replied. — As far as I know, the Duke de Beaufort died during a foray from this very fortress, which eventually went to the Ottoman Empire anyway. His sacrifice was in vain, just like your sacrifice.
- But this letter, madam? - asked Athos. - After all, it said that he was alive, and the Ottoman Empire was demanding a ransom for him.
- Just a trap to lure you in, Count! Olivia laughed. - And this unfortunate man who arrived with you. What's his name?
“I’m a bar...” Porthos began.
“Barbier, madam, his name is Isaac Barbier,” answered Athos, tightly squeezing Porthos’ hand. - This is my neighbor, a villager who volunteered to help me.
“He’s dressed like a nobleman,” Olivia objected incredulously.
“He wears the clothes of his landowner, Antoine de Fillon, my old friend,” Athos continued. - They are approximately the same build.
“Okay, to hell with your Isaac Barbier,” Olivia waved it off. “You are enough for me, Count.”
“I repeat, madam, that I do not have the honor of knowing you and I do not understand why you needed to meet with me.”
“But I know you very well,” answered Olivia, “and I also know your friends, Captain d’Artagnan and the Duke d’Alameda.”
“Suppose I also know D’Artagnan, but this is the first time I’ve heard the name of the Duke d’Alameda,” answered Athos.
“That’s what the one who was once called Monsieur d’Herblay now calls himself,” Olivia clarified. - Is this name familiar to you?
“Of course,” answered Athos. - So, you have business with my friends, and, consequently, with me. Well, I'm listening, ma'am.
“My affairs are such that I wish them the greatest harm that it is only in my power to deliver to them, and you will help me with this,” Olivia continued.
“I am no help in such matters,” Athos objected. “I’m afraid, madam, that I would rather interfere with your plans with all my might.”
“Nothing depends on you, Count,” Olivia grinned. “Your job is to be bait for these two, or at least the subject of my bargaining.”
“My friends are not traders, and you will not be able to conduct commercial business with them,” Athos answered coldly. “They will, of course, come to my rescue, but not in the ways you expect.”
“We’ll see about that later, Mister Count!” - Olivia answered. “I had no problems with you, my plan worked absolutely perfectly.” Why do you think that the second part of my plan is worse than the first?
“I don’t think anything about your plan, madam, and I’ll keep my opinion about your methods to myself,” Athos answered coldly. “So, if I understand you correctly, your letter was a vile deception, we will not be able to rescue the Duke de Beaufort, therefore, our stay here is unnecessary.” Therefore, we consider it possible to make every effort not to abuse your hospitality and to depart from here as soon as possible.
“You won’t succeed, Monsieur Comte, and also Monsieur Isaac Barbier!” - Olivia exclaimed joyfully. “If you would write a letter to your friends asking them to come here and try to help you out, I would be extremely grateful for such courtesy, but I do not expect cooperation.” Therefore, I myself have already prepared such a letter, and to prove that you are really visiting me, I will send them two of your swords.
After that, the window in the iron door slammed shut and there was silence.

“Athos, I believed that you were incapable of lying!” - said Porthos, who was silent all this time, since Athos squeezed his palm with all his might.
“The truth is good only when talking with truthful and worthy people,” answered Athos. - I am truthful, but not pathologically. Any normal person is capable of lying when it is absolutely necessary. But we may be overheard, so be careful in your choice of words.
“I think that what we need now is not words, but actions,” answered Porthos. “I’m wondering how best to break down the doors.” But d'Artagnan taught me that before you break down barriers, you need to have a plan for the future path.
“And he was absolutely right, my dear Isaac Barbier,” answered Athos. “Don’t mention the names of our friends and don’t say that you know them.” In this case, at least you will have a better chance of getting out of here,” he added in a whisper.
“You’ve already been to this fortress, Count?” - asked Porthos. “Apparently you are familiar with her plan?”
“Of course, dear Isaac, any officer, arriving at a fortress, first gets acquainted with its plan, and I made no exception in this case,” Athos agreed. “This casemate is located in the basement, and its back wall is the outer wall of the fortress.
“Our affairs are bad,” said Porthos sadly. “The outer wall is too thick; you can’t break it with your bare hands.” From which side did the Turks attack the fortress?
“It was from this very side that the most fierce attack took place,” answered Athos.
—Did they make any attempts to dig up the glanders? - asked Porthos.
“They did, Porthos, and it was for this reason that the Duke de Beaufort made a sortie,” answered Athos. “They blew up a passage dug by the Turks, which was intended to blow up the wall.
“The explosion collapsed the beginning of this passage, but perhaps the end of the sapa dug by the Turks remained unharmed? - Porthos suggested.
— Do you suppose that the Turks managed to dig under the fortress wall? - Athos was surprised. “Well, I saw two collapsed tunnels and I can approximately indicate how far they were from the edge of the wall.” But we don’t know which chamber you and I are in. Now, if only we could count the steps from the beginning of the underground gallery.
- Imagine, Count, I counted the steps! - Porthos answered. “I developed this habit after I supervised the construction of the Belle-Ile fortress. I counted that we went down two flights of twelve steps each, and also walked up the gallery thirty-eight steps.
-Great, Port... Isaac! - Athos exclaimed. - Wait a minute, I have to remember the plan exactly and compare it with what I saw outside.
Athos closed his eyes and began to mentally calculate something.
- Your step seems to be one and a half times longer than mine, in that case... Wait a minute. One of the tunnels must be under the next room, if this door is not locked,” Athos finally said.
“It’s locked, but what do we care about that?” The castle is so-so, flimsy! - Porthos answered.
With these words, he picked up the padlock and began to twist it with all his might. The castle withstood these manipulations, but one of the hinges began to wobble. After half an hour of work, she succumbed to the efforts of our giant and in the hands of Porthos was not only the lock, but also one of the door hinges attached to it.
“Here is a tool for turning stones out of the floor,” said Porthos. “But it seems to me that the second loop will be more convenient.”
After these words, he tore off the second loop, which had the shape of a plate with a curved eye.
“Well, let’s start digging,” said Porthos in such a calm voice that one might think that this was really a certain peasant Isaac Barbier starting to dig up another bed on which he was going to sow spinach.

CXXIV. Louis

Having waited for the next ship with provisions, Louis, as a very sick person, boarded the ship and went on it to Cannes to see a doctor. Because he was dressed like a monk, he was treated with respect. Louis thought that these clothes might well suit him on his entire upcoming journey to Paris. Since his face was clean-shaven, like all monks, he lacked those characteristic, dashingly curled mustache and pointed beard that were brought into fashion by his father, Louis XIII . This made him almost unrecognizable, at least among those people who did not know him personally and had never met him before.
“Holy father, the doctor is not far, walk along this street, you will see a sign with a cup and a snake,” the captain of the ship told him. - Well, do you need a guide?
“Thank you, my friend,” replied Louis, “I’ll sit here on the bench for a while and then I’ll come there myself.”
Having no other means of payment except the rings that remained on his fingers from the time of his abduction on the way from Mademoiselle de La Valli;re, and having given two of them for minor services to the keeper of the monastery, Louis decided that the remaining four rings should be spent sparingly. So he chose the least expensive one among them and hid the rest. With this ring, he approached the owner of the first tavern he met on his way.
“Dearest,” he said to the owner of the inn, “I must travel to Paris on monastery business.” I need a carriage.
“This is the first time I’ve seen a simple novice travel in a carriage!” - exclaimed the innkeeper.
“That’s not what I meant,” Louis caught himself. “I’ll need the carriage later, but now I’ll need the horse.”
—Are you going to buy a horse or rent it? - asked the innkeeper.
“This is the first time I have made such a journey myself,” said Louis. - What will you advice me?
“The easiest way would be to travel with post horses,” answered the innkeeper, “but for this you need a road horse.”
- Road trip? - asked Louis. - That is, an order? Who should it be signed by? Minister?
- Minister! - the innkeeper laughed. — The Minister signs only the most important orders, well, except for those signed by the King. The travel document is signed by the head of the department that has the right to use the state postal service.
- Well, what if the matter is so important that the King himself signed it? - asked Louis. — Should we pay for post horses in this case?
- What are you talking about, holy father! - The innkeeper smiled. - Those who carry out the King’s orders are not asked for money at post stations.
- Wonderful, my friend, thank you! - Louis answered.
He almost asked the innkeeper for a piece of paper and a pen, but realized that such actions might look too suspicious.
—Where can I find the nearest postal station, my dear? - asked Louis.
“Two streets to the right, there’s an inscription there,” answered the innkeeper. “You will also recognize it by the long hitching post and the spacious stable nearby.
“Thank you, my son,” replied Louis. - I ask you for one more favor. The monastery did not provide me with money for the trip, but gave me this ring, donated by a rich widow for charitable causes. Could you turn it into the money I need for my trip?
“I don’t have that amount,” answered the innkeeper, “but you can contact the jeweler Solomon, who lives two houses away.”
- Okay, my friend! - Louis answered. “I’ll come back with money and ask you to prepare dinner for me, as well as two, no, five sheets of clean paper, the best you can find, a few feathers and a traveling inkwell.” I will pay for all this.
“Okay, Holy Father, I’m waiting for you,” answered the innkeeper.

Jeweler Solomon was very surprised to see the cheapest of the rings that Louis offered him for sale.
- This is a wonderful ring! - he exclaimed. - Where did the poor monk get such a treasure?
“My friend, don’t judge a person by his appearance,” replied Louis. - This ring is not stolen, I can swear on the Bible. One rich duchess donated it to our monastery, and I was ordered to turn it into money in order to make one important order.
“For such a ring you can order an even better reliquary than what I made for the relics of St. Ambrose!” - answered the jeweler.
“Apparently, the monastery will order something similar, and, most likely, it will be you,” replied Louis.
- Why then do you turn the ring into money? - the jeweler was surprised. “After all, the monastery can pay for the work with a ring.”
“We also need money for roofing work,” Louis answered. — The roof is leaking, and it will start raining soon.
“Why didn’t the keeper himself come to me with this ring?” — the curious jeweler continued.
“He was a little ill, so he entrusted me with the order for the roof, but he will come to you to order the reliquary himself, as soon as he recovers,” replied Louis.
“Didn’t he say whether the new reliquary would be golden?” - asked the jeweler.
“Gold, exactly gold and with sapphires around the edges,” Louis answered.
After this, the jeweler counted out the price of the ring to Louis, deceiving him by only half.
With the money he received, Louis went to the tavern, where he had a hearty breakfast, and then wrote the following text on one of the sheets he received:

"The King's Order
The bearer of this, a novice of the L;rins Abbey, Eustache Dauger, is prescribed a trip from Paris to Cannes and back from Cannes to Paris at the expense of the royal treasury.
All employees of the state postal service, as well as officers and soldiers of all branches of the military, assist the novice Eustache Doge in his journey to carry out a special mission on behalf of the King.
Signed: King Louis XIV of France ."

With this document, Louis headed to the postal station indicated to him, where without delay he received a postal carriage drawn by a pair of horses and a coachman.
Half an hour later he was already rushing to Paris.

CXXV. Aramis

Aramis was re-reading the correspondence when Bazin came to him and reported:
— Monsignor, you have a letter from the Ottoman Empire from a certain Olivia Celik, aka Olivia du Trabuson.
“Okay, Bazin, thank you,” Aramis replied and took the letter.

Opening the envelope, he read the following:

“So, Monsieur d'Herblay, you thought that you had dealt with me and my husband and would never hear from us again? This was your big mistake! Olivia de Trabucon can stand up for herself!
Your friend, a certain Count de La F;re, is in my captivity! With him is also a certain Isaac Barbier, whom he called a peasant, but he is dressed like a nobleman, and from everything it is clear that your friend is deceiving me. Both of these people are completely in my power and if you do not comply with my demands, they will die in agony, and will die for a long time. In the Ottoman Empire they know how to execute long and painfully, and my new husband, Ahmed ;elik, also known as Ahmed Pasha, will do for me, his beloved wife, what I ask of him.
So, if you value your friend the Comte de La F;re, you must, as soon as possible, compensate me for all the damage that your actions have caused to my family. If it weren’t for you, my husband would already be a major of the guards, or even a colonel. Moreover, I believe that he would receive a handsome monetary reward for his faithful service. I am not too upset by my current situation, but I do not intend to spend my entire life as one of the four wives of some Turk, even a pasha. I want to return to Paris in triumph. I demand a patent for the position of colonel for my husband and eight hundred thousand livres for myself. I also need two hundred thousand livres for those who helped me in my event, a million in total. In addition, Captain d'Artagnan must resign. Only in this case will Count de La F;re and his friend Isaac Barbier return to France alive.
As proof that the said Comte de La F;re and Isaac Barbier are in my complete power, I am sending you their swords.
Olivia Celik, aka Olivia du Trabuson.
Written in the fortress of Candia on the island of Crete."

Aramis rang the bell, after which Bazin entered his office again.
— Was there anything attached to the letter? - asked Arami.
“A package that appears to contain two swords,” replied Bazin.
- Show! - Aramis exclaimed.
As soon as he looked at the swords, he said sadly:
- Yes, it’s them - Athos and Porthos. Bazin, do you remember what regular work I entrusted to you after I was appointed Spanish Minister?
“You instructed me through the people whose contacts you gave me, monsignor, so that I always know where Monsieur d’Artagnan is and what he is doing,” Bazin replied.
- Where is he now? - asked Aramis.
“The captain took a leave of absence and went south,” answered Bazin.
— What preceded this trip? - asked the prelate.
“Mr. d’Artagnan visited the Duchess de Chevreuse, after which he immediately went to the King, and after him, he took two musketeers, drove into the Bastille, then left from there, accompanied by three horsemen,” answered Bazin.
- Where is Francois now? - asked the prelate.
“Now he has free time, most likely he is at Planchet’s establishment,” answered Bazin.
“I want to see him,” Aramis replied.
Half an hour later, Aramis entered Planchet's establishment. Bazin and Planchet exchanged firm handshakes.
- Planchet, good afternoon! - Aramis turned to him. - Francois is not with you?
“Good afternoon, monsignor,” Planchet replied. - In number four. Shall I bring you something to drink or snack there?
“Thank you, Planchet, this is unnecessary, I’m in a hurry,” Aramis answered and quickly climbed the stairs to number four.
- Can I come in, Francois? - Aramis asked through the doors.
- Come in! - answered Francois.
“I am Monsieur d’Herblay, your father’s friend,” said Aramis.
“I know you from Planchet’s stories and have seen you several times, I am glad to have the honor of hosting you, although I cannot offer you a worthy welcome,” said Francois, looking around his modest home.
- It's empty! - Aramis answered. — I have a couple of questions for you.
“I am at your service, monsignor,” answered Fran;ois.
- Tell me, my friend, what do you know about the captain’s trip to the south? - asked Aramis.
“I don’t know anything about this, monsignor, but I myself recently traveled to the south,” said Francois.
- Where exactly? - asked Aramis.
“Under the command of the Duke d'Epernon, I and three other guards went to the island of Saint-Marguerite, where the Duke presented Colbert's order to the commandant of the Pignerol fortress, which did not have any influence on the commandant,” answered Francois. “After that we went back, and the Duke was terribly angry all the way.”
- Thank you, dear Francois! - said Aramis. - Best wishes!
After this, Aramis left Francois and went straight to the Duchess de Chevreuse.
The Duchess received Aramis immediately.
“Duke, I never thought that I would ever see you visiting me,” said the duchess.
“You would try to invite me, Duchess, and make sure that I would not neglect your invitation,” answered Aramis.
“Oh, once you simply called me Maria,” the duchess sighed. - In those days, you came to me without an invitation, and not always at the door!
“The man you are talking about was called Henri d’Herblay, who took the name Aramis in honor of his family’s Abbey d’Aramitz,” answered Aramis. “There is little left of this man; we can say that he is no longer there, but there is only the Duke of Alameda, the elderly ambassador of Spain.
“So, you no longer call me Maria, and I won’t get to call you Henri,” the duchess said sadly.
“Oh, my God, call me whatever you like, Duchess, I have an important conversation with you, and we are wasting time on some sentiments,” Aramis said impatiently.
- Indeed! “I couldn’t think that you dropped in on me just like that,” the duchess smiled, in whose eyes, at the mention of the matter, two sparks lit up, because the old intriguer felt needed again.
— What do you know about the Count de La F;re’s trip to the island of Crete? - asked Aramis.
“Probably the same as you,” answered the duchess. “He went there to negotiate the ransom of the Duke de Beaufort, who is supposedly alive and in captivity of the Turks. He suspected that it was a trap, but, nevertheless, he went there with some friend, a figure reminiscent of your Porthos, or whatever his name was. If I didn’t know for sure that he died, I would have thought that he was accompanying the count. However, I don’t know this for sure.
“Thank you, Duchess,” Aramis replied. “Is there anything else in this regard that I need to know?”
“My cousin, Count Rochefort, accompanied them,” answered the duchess, “but according to the terms of the letter, only two were to go to the fortress of Candia, so he most likely remained waiting for them on the ship.”
- Thank you, what else? - asked Aramis.
-What else should you know? - asked the duchess with pathos. - How can I know what exactly interests you? Do you want to know that I still love you? Probably not! Do you want to know that Princess Henrietta is recklessly flirting with the King, and he is gradually falling under her charm? Or do you want to know that this circumstance, of course, angers Philip of Orleans and Queen Maria Theresa? How do I know if this is interesting to you or not? Do you want to know that the Maria Theresa scandal could result in a worsening relationship with the Spain you represent? Maybe you're interested, maybe you're not. Do you want to know that Colbert has even spoken about this scandal behind the scenes, in the spirit that it is a scandal? Do you want to know that Colbert discussed this scandal with the Chevalier de Lorrain? Do you want to know what I think about this? Do you want to know that the Chevalier de Lorraine is a man who has always wished and still wishes harm to Princess Henrietta, and that things may come to the point that I cannot guarantee that the princess will survive next Monday? What exactly interests you about Henri, or the Duke d'Alameda, or the Abbe d'Herblay?
“All this occupies me extremely, duchess, but most of all I am occupied with the question of how to rescue the Comte de La F;re from the trap,” answered Aramis.
- Count de La F;re is trapped?! - the duchess exclaimed with horror. - Why were you silent? We must save the count!
“Thank you for the advice, duchess,” Aramis replied. “That’s exactly what I was going to do before I came to you for information.”
After that, Aramis dryly kissed the duchess's hand and left.

“No, he never loved me! - thought the duchess. - True love never leaves without a trace. The one who loved cannot remain indifferent. He either loves or hates.”
"Wow! - thought Aramis. - The Duchess seems to be in love with Athos! Who would have thought that this woman was capable of loving anyone!”

CXXVI. Colbert

The day after his conversation with the King, Colbert came to the Bastille to talk with Fouquet.
“Marquis, take me to the cell with the prisoner Fouquet,” he ordered, turning to the commandant of the Bastille, Monsieur de Bezmo. “This is the King’s order that I can control his fate.”
“In that case, Mr. Minister, you are late,” Bezmo replied. - The prisoner Fouquet, on the orders of the King, was taken yesterday by Captain d'Artagnan to escort him to the Pignerol fortress.
- Damn it! What carriage did he leave in and what time? Colbert growled. - I'll catch up with him!
“It’s unlikely, since they left on horseback, and their horses, as I noticed, were excellent,” answered Bezmo.
- This goes beyond all boundaries! Colbert exclaimed. - So mock the minister!
“You can come with this document to the Pignerol fortress and pick up Fouquet from there,” Bezmo said hesitantly, trying to smooth out the awkwardness of the situation.
“This document has a limited validity period,” Colbert answered angrily. “By the time I get there, it will no longer be valid.” Besides, I don't have time for such long trips.
“Well, that means you won’t be able to carry out this order of the King, but you will have an objective justification,” answered Bezmo.
- Where and when did an objective justification save the perpetrator of failure to follow orders?! Colbert exclaimed. - Anyone who receives an impossible order is doomed to punishment in advance, that’s all. Besides, you don’t still have the King’s order, which you gave to Fouquet?
“I made a copy of it, copied it into the accounting journal, and M. d’Artagnan certified this copy with his own signature that the text was copied correctly, you can admire it,” answered Bezmo, proud of his foresight.
Colbert quickly read the entry and angrily slammed the magazine shut.
“Happy stay, Mister Marquis,” he said and quickly left the commandant’s office.

“Your Majesty, regarding my supposed conversation with Fouquet, you apparently guess its result,” Colbert said during the next audience.
“I’m not a seer, Mr. Minister,” Philip objected. — How did the visit end?
“I didn’t find Fouquet in the Bastille, Fouquet is not in it,” Colbert replied, trying to say this as dispassionately as possible.
- Is that so? - asked Philip with ostentatious surprise. - Where is he then?
“According to your orders, Captain d'Artagnan is currently transporting him to Pignerol,” replied Colbert.
“Indeed, I remember that I ordered such a move,” Philip answered with an absent-minded look. “However, I didn’t think that Captain d’Artagnan would be in such a hurry to carry out my order!” I believed that you, who received my signature on the order you prepared yesterday, would not postpone this conversation until the next day. Look, the captain, who received my order much later than you, carried it out much earlier! I hope you are not going to reproach your King for being less efficient than Captain d'Artagnan?
“Your Majesty always acts extremely wisely,” Colbert replied. “The duties of your subjects are to carry out your orders as best as possible, and I am apparently to blame for not hastening to carry out this order yesterday.” It seems to me that you asked me yesterday not to go too far, because you might need me.
- Of course, Mister Colbert, but does such a request cancel the need to carry out the previously given order? - asked Philip. “Besides, is the Bastille really that far from the Louvre?” Remember, Mr. Colbert, that the Bastille is located very, very close to the Louvre. Never forget this. Monsieur Fouquet had the misfortune to ignore this simple fact. However, he is not alone.
“I will remember this, Your Majesty,” Colbert answered with a bow, swallowing his insult. - Let me ask, Your Majesty, why do you think that the Pignerol fortress is a more appropriate place to keep the state criminal Fouquet than the Bastille?
“Didn’t you yourself, Mister Colbert, tell me that after one conversation with him, you won’t need him anymore?” - asked Philip. - Believing that this conversation will take place in the near future, I decided to put Fouquet away in the future so that no one else would try to extract financial secrets from him, which, as you understand, a person who has held the highest position in the Ministry of Finance for many years certainly has. Such information must be stored securely, very securely. Monsieur de Saint-Mars proved that his fortress is the most reliable safe for such secrets.
“What’s so bad about the Bastille, Your Majesty?” Colbert asked.
“The Bastille is good for everyone, Monsieur Colbert, except that it is too close to the Louvre,” answered Philip. “This proximity is a great advantage when it comes to quickly hiding a person in the Louvre, but this advantage turns into a disadvantage when it is required that a person from the fortress cannot quickly end up in the Louvre.” Having sent Fouquet to the Bastille, I thought that I was finished with him. I don’t want to remember this man who robbed the state treasury. But not everyone around me is ready to forget him. Yesterday you reminded me of him in connection with some contracts. Monsieur Colbert, you should have decided all the cases of Fouquet's contracts on the day he was arrested and all his papers came into your possession, or within the next week thereafter. You had to clarify all ambiguities immediately, without delay. A finance minister who recalls the contracts his predecessor signed six months after he took over raises questions about his competence. If the information known to Fouquet was important to you, you should have known it immediately after his arrest. Time has passed, and now we have completely different, more urgent things to do. The old Fouquet contracts, for which you can only obtain the verbal guarantee of a state criminal, do not interest me, and they should not interest you. Answer me honestly, Monsieur Colbert, when you gave me a document to sign, a document in which neither the name of the prisoner, nor the name of the fortress, nor the name of the commandant were indicated, did you really mean Fouquet?
Colbert turned pale, his hands shook, but he tried to control himself.
“Your Majesty, your question speaks of mistrust, in which case I can only ask for resignation,” he said in a dull voice.
“If I didn’t trust you, I would formulate my doubt not in the form of a question, but in the form of a statement,” Philip snapped dryly. - Don't talk nonsense. You will not receive any resignation. You are excellent at finance and material support for the army and navy. So take care of these responsibilities. Leave the prisoners of Pignerol alone, leave Monsieur d'Artagnan and Monsieur d'Herblay alone.
At that moment, someone scratched at the door of the King’s office.
- Who else is there? - asked Philip.
- It's me, Your Majesty! - said the Chevalier de Lorraine, entering the office. — Have you forgotten that we have an entertainment event today? Everything is ready for the holiday, Your Majesty, the only thing missing is you.
— Is the princess already there? - asked Philip.
“Everything is in place, including Madame, only Your Majesty is missing,” replied the Chevalier de Lorrain, who made a grimace of displeasure at the mention of Princess Henrietta.
“Okay, I’m going,” Philip answered. - Mister Colbert, that’s enough about business for today, I’ll wait for you tomorrow at the usual time.
Colbert threw an angry look at Lorrain, received the same look in response and left the King’s office.

CXXVII. Pignerol

Upon arrival in Cannes, d'Artagnan rented the same ship on which he sailed for Philip. Leaving his horses, he, accompanied by Fouquet, de Parisot and de Sigal, went onto the deck. Soon the ship reached the southern coast of the island of Saint-Marguerite. As on previous trips, d'Artagnan chose to land on the island not from the French coast, but from the side of the island of Saint-Honorat. Inviting de Parisot and de Sigal to look after Fouquet, he also approached the fortress from the south within musket shot distance and raised a white handkerchief on the tip of his sword. Unlike previous trips, he remained on horseback.
After some time, two horsemen rode out of the fortress. It was de Saint-Mars and one of the guards.
- Hello, captain! - exclaimed Saint-Mars, as soon as he recognized d'Artagnan. “Are you taking my prisoner again by order of the King?”
“Not this time,” replied the captain. “I have the King’s order, but I have brought you another prisoner, whose maintenance will arrive in the very near future.”
- Wearing a mask again? - asked Saint-Mars.
“No, this time it’s just the former superintendent of finance, Monsignor Fouquet,” answered d’Artagnan.
- Just Fouquet? - Saint-Mars was surprised. - Just something? Who then is this Marchiali?
- Is this a question? - asked the captain.
“Not at all,” replied Saint-Mars. - This is an empty exclamation. I don't want to know what I'm not supposed to know.
“This is the wisdom of a man experienced in all respects,” agreed d’Artagnan.
“Well, bring your Fouquet,” replied Saint-Mars. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad you’re not taking Marchiali.” There was some kind of leapfrog with him. Then accept, then give, then accept again, then give again!
“You said ‘give back’ one more time than you should have, Monsieur Commandant,” noted d’Artagnan.
- Not at all! - Saint-Mars objected. - I said it the way it was. The last time d'Epernon came for him, accompanied by four guards on the ship. He demanded that Marchiali be handed over to me on the basis of an order signed by Colbert.
- Is that so? - noted the captain. - This was apparently a week ago?
“A week or so,” Saint-Mars agreed.
“And you, of course, left him with nothing,” d’Artagnan smiled.
“One blank shot from a cannon and a promise of two blank shots if the Duke decides to insist,” answered Saint-Mars.
- Great! - answered the captain. “I will report to His Majesty about your excellent service!”
After these words, d'Artagnan handed Fouquet over to Saint-Mars, refused lunch and returned to the ship.
“Captain, we need to go to the island of Saint-Honorat to visit a novice in L;rins Abbey.

The abbot of the abbey informed the captain that the novice he had brought earlier turned out to be extremely ill and was taken to the mainland for treatment.
- How long ago did this happen? - asked d'Artagnan.
“On Monday,” answered the abbot.
“Thank you, Holy Father, we are leaving,” said the captain and gave the captain the order to urgently return to Cannes.
“Our Louis is no mistake! - thought d'Artagnan as the ship swiftly cut through the waves. - So, he decided to regain his throne! Where should I go now? Athos and Porthos are in danger, and Aramis is in no less danger! Two of my friends are languishing in captivity among the Turks, and the third has no idea that if Louis regains his throne, Aramis may lose his head! That's when it's time to remember the motto “One for all”! I have to decide who needs me more!”
- Messrs. de Segal and de Parisot! Each of you will receive a letter from me for the King. You will take different roads, everyone will go as fast as possible. If there is a danger that the letter will be intercepted by anyone, you must destroy it. No, nonsense, I won’t write letters. This is what you will have to convey to the King, remember word for word: “Marciali has fled, danger to the Duke-Bishop and his friend F.” Repeat.
De Sigal and de Parisot repeated the captain's message word for word, after which d'Artagnan headed to Bari from there to sail to Cyprus to the rescue of Athos and Porthos.

CXXVIII. Crete

On the evening of the same day, when Athos and Porthos fell into a trap set up by Olivia, a blank cannon shot was heard from the fortress of Candia in the direction of the ship, which stood in full view of the fortress.
“Count,” said the captain of the ship, “the commandant of the fortress is obviously dissatisfied with our presence and demands that we leave.”
“Let’s retreat to a distance, fifty steps beyond the range of a cannon shot, and anchor again,” Rochefort ordered. “I don’t lose hope of waiting for my friends.”
The ship performed the maneuver the count had spoken of and anchored again.
However, the commandant of the fortress, apparently, was not satisfied with such an insignificant concession. Smoke rose above the fortress wall, after which a cannonball splashed into the water dangerously close to the ship.
- They have good guns! - exclaimed the captain. “They hit much further than conventional French, Spanish and Greek guns.”
“Okay,” said Rochefort, “we will act according to the plan proposed by the count.” We are going to the port of Gramvousa and will wait for news from there.
The port of Gramvousa still belonged to the Venetian Republic, that is, it was friendly to France. The ship entered this port, after which Rochefort landed on the island, where he began to think about a plan for further action.

Meanwhile, Porthos, having straightened the door hinges he had obtained, which looked like curved plates with a hole for the lock, made two straight plates out of them. If it were possible to sharpen these plates on the stones of the casemate, they could be used to make something like a cleaver, but this would require too much effort and time, so Porthos decided to use the plates as is to dig a tunnel. The floor in the casemate was covered with simple bricks, which gave way quite easily.
“If they come here, traces of our work will be immediately noticed, and we will be transferred to another cell,” said Athos.
“So we need to discourage them from coming here,” Porthos answered. “Perhaps while I’m digging, you’ll pretend to be crazy?”
“That won’t do,” answered Athos. “They will easily see through such a maneuver.” I’d rather demand that they come to us. I hope that in this case they will do the opposite and leave us alone for a while.
—Where should we dump the bricks and soil? - asked Porthos.
“Here in the pile,” answered Athos. “If they come here, they will see signs of destruction anyway.” Let's dig one by one, Porthos.
“This is unnecessary,” answered the giant. “I will throw away the earth, and you just demand that they come to us as loudly as possible.” But, you know, a tool that is very useful for turning out bricks is almost completely unsuitable for digging earth.
“The door between the chambers is not iron, but only wooden, upholstered with metal sheets,” answered Athos. - Try to pick up and tear off one such leaf. This, of course, is not a shovel, but with such a sheet it will be much easier to rake out the earth.
Porthos picked up the outermost sheet of the door's inner trim and tore it away from the wooden base.
-What's that noise? - someone asked outside the cell in broken French.
“We will make noise and give you no rest until they explain to us why we were arrested!” - Athos exclaimed. “We demand that the commandant of the fortress come to us!” Our states are in a state of peace, we have arrived under a white flag for negotiations!
It was not at all typical for Athos to shout at the top of his voice, but he tried to drown out the sounds of Porthos' work and encourage him with these shouts.
Five hours after the conclusion, food was brought to the friends. Athos barely touched his portion, giving almost everything to his friend.
- What about you, Athos? - asked Porthos.
“Currently I am not hungry, and you are expending an enormous amount of energy on your titanic work,” answered Athos.
“You must eat,” Porthos answered with conviction.
“And you should rest, Porthos,” Athos smiled. “I will eat this chicken leg on the condition that you eat the rest and give me some exercise too.”
“Well, Count, your arguments are convincing,” replied Porthos, who had already almost destroyed his own portion.

 CXXIX. Trained eye

D'Artagnan was pondering which way to prefer, whether to go straight away by sea or travel by land to Bari. Having chosen the second option, he decided to sell the horse on which Fouquet had previously ridden, since he had already begun to run out of his own money, and new income, as he noticed, had already stopped starting.
While negotiating a deal with an innkeeper, d'Artagnan drew attention to the young man who followed him inseparably, clearly performing the functions of a spy.
Then the captain decided to ride around Cannes a little. Several times, abruptly changing the direction of movement, he invariably noticed that this young man was following him.
- What kind of fruit is this? - he said to himself. - Interesting!
Having driven into a small nook, he hid in the shadows. As soon as the young rider came around the bend, d'Artagnan called out to him.
“It seems to me, young man, that you are too modest!” - he said. “You’ve been following me for so long that I think you have something to do with me.” Meanwhile, it would be easier to contact me back there, in the tavern. If you have questions, I can probably answer them. So I'm listening.
“I’m going just like that, on my own,” answered Auguste de Trabuson, for it was he.
- So our goals simply coincide? - asked d'Artagnan. - Well, such coincidences do happen. Tell me where are you going? If the goal of our journey is the same, we can travel together as simple fellow travelers, but if your goal does not coincide with mine, we will part where our paths diverge.
- Why are you right to ask me such questions? - asked Auguste.
“By the right of the man you are spying on and who doesn’t like it,” answered the captain.
“I am a free man and can go wherever I see fit, and I do not intend to ask permission from anyone,” Auguste answered boldly. “Also, I am not going to reveal the purpose of my journey to the first person I meet.
- Is that so? - answered d'Artagnan, and his left eyebrow rose, expressing all the irony that he put into this question. “Well, then I’ll tell you myself where I’m going.” I'm going to Marseille. If you are on the same route, I suggest you go together.
“I prefer to travel alone,” answered the young man.
“Whatever,” the captain answered and rode off at a light trot to the west.
After riding two blocks, d'Artagnan moved to the next street and turned his horse to the east and galloped off. After driving three blocks, the captain turned sharply to the right, towards the sea, after which he repeated his technique, driving into a narrow closed street and hiding.
After some time, he again saw Auguste, who was riding behind him, and, having lost sight of the captain, he stopped indecisively, wondering where d'Artagnan could have disappeared.
“So, young man, you don’t want to be frank with me,” said d’Artagnan, riding out from his hiding place. — I can do one of the following ways. Firstly, I believe that you are violating my right to travel unaccompanied by spies, so I can challenge you to a duel and, of course, kill you. Secondly, I can break away from you, confusing my tracks. Thirdly, I can ignore your impudence. I don’t like all these options, and besides, I’m in a hurry. So I choose the fourth option. We will fight here and now, immediately, without dismounting. Defend yourself, you insolent!
After these words, d'Artagnan spurred his horse, pointing it at Auguste. The young man barely had time to grab his sword and point it towards d'Artagnan. The captain drove by, deftly dodged Auguste's sword and knocked his hat off with his sword.
“For the first time I felt sorry for you, young man,” said d’Artagnan, “defend yourself better.”
Repeating his maneuver, he knocked the sword out of Auguste's hands.
Then he jumped off his horse, tossed the vanquished man’s sword with the toe of his boot and handed it to Auguste, hilt first.
“I didn’t take the opportunity to kill you twice, young spy, but now we will fight seriously and on foot.” Get off your horse and show me that you are a man,” he said.
Auguste jumped off his horse, took his sword and immediately tried to use it against d'Artagnan.
“No, it won’t work that way,” said d’Artagnan, easily parrying Auguste’s blows. - Stabbing you is like skewering a chicken.
After these words, he again knocked the sword out of Auguste’s hands and stepped on it with his foot.
“Young man, you are my prisoner, I demand that you tell me your name and the purpose of your spying on me,” he said.
“My name is Auguste de Trabuson,” answered the young man. “You are responsible for the fact that my parents disappeared somewhere, and I intend to find out where they are, take revenge on you and free them.”
“Well,” answered d’Artagnan. - You are within your rights. I'm taking your sword. If you try to spy on me or interfere with me in carrying out the King's orders again, I will take your life. Believe me, I don't want to do this, but you leave me no choice.
- Damn you! - Auguste exclaimed.
“As much as you want,” answered d’Artagnan and headed to the port. He decided to travel to Crete by sea.
After riding his horse a few steps, d'Artagnan heard the familiar sound of a musket being cocked. He quickly bent down to the horse's neck and looked back. At that moment a shot rang out, a bullet whizzed past the captain’s head.
- So this is how it is? - exclaimed the captain. - Yes, you won’t calm down, as far as I can see! Well, if you really want to travel with me, I'll take you.
After this, d'Artagnan quickly rode up to Auguste and grabbed his horse by the bridle.
“I take you prisoner, and you will go with me,” he said. “I don’t advise you to resist.” I will not spare you, since you have already taken up a lot of time, and I am in a hurry. Pray that this delay will not prove fatal to my friends.
After this, d'Artagnan sold his second horse, as well as Auguste's horse.
“This money will pay your travel expenses, Monsieur Auguste de Trabucon,” he told his captive.
On a hired fast ship that same evening, d'Artagnan sailed to the island of Crete. He placed his prisoner in a separate cabin and hired a special sailor to look after him, under no circumstances allowing him to escape from the cabin assigned to him.

CXXX. Hope

After Porthos pulled the bricks out of the floor in the corner between the outer wall and the wall of the adjacent chamber and began to dig furiously, he went two elbows deep, and was ready to dig further as long as he had the strength. In order to make it easier to go down into the pit and get out of it, he intended to make several steps on the side opposite the wall, which was also the outer wall of the fortress. He hoped that the wall would soon end, after which there might be a tunnel underneath it, made by the Turks during the siege. As he was digging in a corner adjacent to the adjacent chamber, he had dug only to the depth of one cubit and discovered that the outer wall had ended and there was ordinary soil underneath. At first he did not attach any importance to this, however, he nevertheless decided to inform Athos about this.
“Athos,” he said, “if we need to get into the next chamber, we can easily do it, since the wall does not go deep into the ground.
“Perhaps this is an easier path, or perhaps it is wasted work,” answered Athos. “We have not heard any sounds from this cell, which suggests that it is empty. Perhaps the Turks lock empty cells with a key, and then this will give us absolutely nothing.
“It is possible that under the wall we will not find any traces of the Turks’ digging, or perhaps the wall goes very deep,” Porthos sighed. - The chances are not great either there or here.
“You’re right, Porthos, we need to see what what we already have gives us,” agreed Athos. “I also don’t really count on finding a keg of gunpowder under the outer wall, that would be too much luck, but it’s better than doing nothing.”
The friends continued to dig under the wall of the neighboring cell and soon a passage formed under it.
“Take out the earth carefully, Porthos,” warned Athos. “If there’s a brick floor like that, it might collapse on you.”
Acting carefully, the friends were finally able to enter the next room. It was the same camera, but not dual.
“At least our home will become one and a half times more spacious,” said Athos. “It seems to me that it’s much brighter here.”
Indeed, if in the double chamber into which Athos and Porthos were thrown, the light source was only small brick-wide vents near the ceiling, then in this chamber there was a small window with bars.
Carefully looking into it, Porthos saw the inner courtyard of the fortress.
“At least they don’t know we’re here,” said Athos. - Check the doors carefully, maybe we'll be lucky and they won't be locked.
The doors were locked.
- What do you say about the bars on the window, Porthos? - asked Athos.
“It seems to me that I can cope with it, but these bars will be thicker than in the casemate in which the vile Mazarin put me and d’Artagnan,” answered Porthos. “There were separate rods built into the stonework, and here there is a forged lattice. It needs to be torn out entirely. It is secured with eight nails, each as thick as my finger. If you manage to pry them up, loosen them and pull them out one by one, the grate can then be torn out. But if you can't knock, it complicates matters. It will be easier to tear out the hinges on the door. The doors behind which we were locked are closed with two locks and a bolt, but this cell is empty, it is closed with only one bolt. If you push hard, he will give in. After all, I have a good master key,” with these words Porthos pointed to the straightened door hinge.
- How long will this matter take you, Porthos? - Athos inquired.
“I think about three or four minutes,” answered the giant.
“Then I propose this plan,” answered Athos. “When they bring us food, which will be in an hour, I will start making trouble, and you should be in this cell.” I hope they come into the cell to calm me down. I expect to hold out for at least ten minutes, no matter how many there are. At this time, you will break down this door and attack them from behind. This gives us a good chance.
- With this thing they will get it from me! - Porthos grinned, stroking the steel plate.

CXXXI. Duchess

The Duchess de Chevreuse was playing solitaire, but her thoughts were far away. She thought about whether the Comte de La F;re would be able to avoid the trap. The fate of the Duke de Beaufort did not worry her at all. Suddenly she heard a knock on her door. Since the Duchess preferred solitude at this time of day, her servants were sent away, so she had to open the doors herself. The Duchess was not in the habit of locking herself, since she possessed a certain amount of fatalism, realizing that if she had enemies, then they would be those whom no locked door could stop. The man who knocked on the doors probably realized that they were not locked, but for reasons of delicacy did not dare to enter, from which the Duchess concluded that it was a man. Since the only man who could cause trouble for the duchess, Cardinal Richelieu, had long since moved to another world, however, the duchess was not at all afraid of him when he was alive. So she boldly opened the door. A man appeared before her, whom she definitely knew, but whom she could not have expected to see in this form.
It was King Louis XIV of France . But he was completely different from himself. He was dressed as a simple monk, his unshaven face was covered with a beard, his hair was short and disheveled. By all signs it was clear that he had arrived from a long and difficult journey.
- Your Majesty! - exclaimed the Duchess. - Is that you? What's wrong with you?
“Duchess, of course it’s me,” Louis replied. “I believe that you are one of the few people privy to my mother’s secret.”
“I am privy to many of your mother’s secrets,” answered the duchess, “but I do not understand what secret you are talking about, and how this secret is connected with your appearance.”
- I'm talking about the mystery of two twins, one of whom stands in front of you, and the other takes his place on the throne! - Louis answered. - Let me come in!
- My God! - exclaimed the Duchess. - Come in, Your Majesty, come in! Forgive me for my confusion! I am at your service.
“So you knew,” said Louis, entering and closing the doors. - Well, I guessed about it.
“But I didn’t know that you were also privy to this secret!” - exclaimed the Duchess. “This circumstance was carefully hidden from everyone, even from you.”
“And you, of course, had no idea that I was kidnapped and an impostor was installed in my place?” - Louis asked with a hint of disbelief.
- How could I know about this? — the Duchess clasped her hands. “I had no idea that you were so similar that no one could tell the difference!” I thought that the poor prince, in any case, would not have been able to behave so naturally that even him, excuse me, even your wife, apparently did not suspect anything.
- Wife? - Louis exclaimed angrily. - So, he got close to her?
“I can’t know anything about this,” the duchess lied. — Outwardly, everything is quite decent. I assume that they did not have the kind of rapprochement that you mean. He most likely pretended to have lost interest in her.
- However, it’s all the same. This marriage was political and I no longer care about the Queen,” the King waved it off, unsuccessfully trying to deceive both himself and the duchess. —Mademoiselle de La Valli;re?
“She’s in the monastery,” answered the duchess.
- I'll return her! - exclaimed Louis. “But first you must help me get back.”
“Be with me, Your Majesty,” the duchess bowed.
“I need to get myself in order,” answered the King. - I need a barber, hairdresser, tailor.
“You found all this in my face, Your Majesty,” answered the duchess. “We must prepare your entrance on stage without unnecessary witnesses.” Any barber will be an unnecessary witness, especially here in the Louvre. Believe me, I know how to shave men and I can cut your mustache and beard the way you have always worn it. You won't need a hairdresser because I will fit you a wig. As for men's clothing, I sometimes had to dress up as a man, and if we don't find anything in my wardrobe, tomorrow I will order a men's suit for myself according to your taste. Our figures are approximately the same height and size.
- Oh, duchess, you are gold, you are an angel! - exclaimed Louis. “First, I must restore my royal appearance, after that we will think about a plan on how I can return what was vilely taken from me.” Should I enlist the help of my mother?
“Your mother, Your Majesty, and my closest friend, left this world two months ago,” the duchess said mournfully.
“I didn’t even know about it,” Louis said sadly. - I will miss her. Sometimes she tried to limit me, I even got angry with her, but this is my mother, and I always not only knew it, but also felt it. Lord rest her soul and accept her into your arms!
“We will pray for her together, Your Majesty,” the duchess picked up and risked hugging the King, which he did not resist. “Now I’ll prepare the shaving utensils and hot water.”
— Do you mean to say that you have shaving accessories? - asked the surprised Louis.
“Yes, that’s true,” answered the duchess, “but don’t ask me why I need them, I still won’t tell you.” What are these two stripes on your forehead, Your Majesty?
“These marks remain from the villainous attempt on my life,” Louis answered. — Are they very noticeable?
“Only if I look at you the way I am doing now,” answered the duchess. - It seems that over time there will be no trace of them left, but for now we will hide them under a layer of powder and comb a few curls from the wig onto your forehead. But that will come later, but now let me shave you.
“I hope you have a suitable suit in your wardrobe, otherwise you will have to shave me again after your tailor finishes his work,” said Louis.
“I believe that tomorrow I will be able to get some suit from your wardrobe, Your Majesty, just don’t ask how,” the duchess replied slyly.

CXXXII. Rochefort

Meanwhile, Rochefort tried to persuade the commandant of the fortress-port of Gramvous to enter into negotiations with the commandant of the fortress of Candia and achieve the return of Athos and Porthos.
- We are not at war with the Ottoman Empire, and thank God! - the commandant objected. “Your friends should not have arrived at the shore controlled from the Candia fortress, and, moreover, they should not have voluntarily entered this fortress. If the Turks detained them, that's their business. I completely sympathize with you, but our strength is such that we are only glad that the Turks do not think of expelling us from the island.
- Is it really that bad? - asked Rochefort.
“Some parity has been established in our confrontation, and if we had proposed an exchange of prisoners, I believe the negotiations could have been successful,” answered the commandant. “But we cannot demand unilateral concessions.” They won't understand us.
“Perhaps we can return them by paying a ransom?” - asked Rochefort.
“It’s quite probable,” the commandant agreed. “I believe that the corresponding proposal has already left them for the mainland.” But the Turks are greedy, for two nobles they can demand such a ransom that it will not be easy for you to collect.
“As far as I know, one of these nobles is very rich,” Rochefort replied. “Although due to certain circumstances, it will be difficult to take advantage of this wealth.
“But this is probably the only opportunity for their return to France,” answered the commandant.

CXXXIII. Hostage

Athos and Porthos acted according to a previously agreed upon plan. Porthos, armed with a metal plate, was waiting for a sign to begin to break open the door, and Athos, armed with another plate, wrapped his hand in a belt and prepared to use it as a cleaver, although not sharp, but weighty enough so that with a certain dexterity he could even resist the attacker's sword. In his left hand he took one of the bricks that had been torn out of the floor.
When the guard opened the doors with the words “Lunch!” and walked in with two plates in his hands, Athos knocked him to the floor with a blow from a brick and dragged the unconscious poor fellow into the cell.
- Disgrace! - he exclaimed as loudly as possible. “Not only were we illegally detained, but they were also feeding us all sorts of stuff that would be shameful for a real nobleman and Catholic to put into his mouth!” I demand the commandant! Bring the commandant here immediately!
At the screams of Athos, two other guards on duty in the corridor of the casemate hurried to enter the cell, sending the third after the officer. Athos fought off two guards, defending himself with the door as a shield, but since the guards had curved Turkish swords in their hands, the forces were not equal. The only saving grace was that it was very difficult for two guards to fight at the same time in a narrow doorway.
At this point, Porthos began to break down the door of the next cell. A minute later the door gave way, and Porthos attacked the guards from behind. The guards, who did not expect such an attack, received serious injuries, after which they immediately surrendered. Porthos disarmed them, dragged them into the cell and tied them both with their own belts, and stuffed them with Turkish caps into their mouths in the form of a gag. After this, the friends, armed with Turkish swords, headed towards the exit from the storage room, which served as a casemate.
“We need to capture the commandant, I know a shortcut, follow me, Porthos!” - Athos exclaimed.
Crushing the confused Turkish soldiers on their way, Athos and Porthos burst into the office of the commandant of the fortress. Fortunately, the commandant was at his place at that moment, where he started lunch.
- Don't move, you are our prisoner! - Athos exclaimed. “If you don’t resist, you’ll stay alive.”
“I surrender,” answered the commandant, who understood French.
However, even if he tried to pretend that he did not understand the French language, the sight of two angry Frenchmen armed with Turkish sabers spoke for itself. An attempt to use the weapon located in the office would be doomed to failure.
Thus, Athos and Porthos became the owner of a high-ranking prisoner and his very significant arsenal.
Porthos pulled the thick iron bolt on the door to the commandant's office and allowed himself to rest.
“Mr. Commandant,” said Athos with a smile, looking at the abundantly laid table. - Don't interrupt your lunch. By the way, Isaac and I were also hungry because we had to skip our lunch.
“Help yourself, please,” the commandant stammered.
“With your permission, I will put the knives and forks away from harm,” said Porthos and extended his open huge palm to the commandant, on which the commandant tremblingly placed the table knife and fork.
“Bonapeti, Mister Commandant,” said Athos.
“Thank you,” the commandant answered in a dull voice, lowering his face almost to the plate.
“You need to know your dining companions by name,” Athos continued. - You probably know what our name is. I am Count de La F;re, my friend is Isaac Barbier, and how would you like me to address you, Mister Commandant?
“I am Ahmed Pasha,” answered the commandant.
- Ahmed Pasha? - Athos exclaimed. — The same Ahmed Celik? So it was your dear wife Olivia Celik who lured us here by deception? Our close acquaintance is very useful!
“Quite by the way,” Porthos confirmed, popping a huge piece of sea bass into his mouth. - Your cook deserves all the praise! Try halva, Athos!
“I don’t eat sweets,” Athos smiled.
“Let me assure you, gentlemen, that I did not support Olivia’s idea,” said Ahmed Pasha.
“I think so, dear commandant, especially in this part of her letter,” answered Athos. — You read French, I hope?
“Yes, I read,” confirmed Ahmed Pasha.
“Then read this letter,” said Athos and handed Olivia’s letter to the commandant.

CXXXIV. King

Philip returned from a picnic, which was arranged in the open air for the amusement of the courtyard. At this picnic, Princess Henrietta behaved like a Queen, while the real Queen refused to participate, citing a headache.
The holiday was fun, except for one incident. The princess, hot from outdoor games, flirting and warmed up by Philip's compliments, feeling with all her soul her upcoming take-off, felt thirsty and asked for a soft drink. The servants probably overdid it with the ice, because after a hefty portion of the ice drink, the princess suddenly felt chills and general weakness. She asked permission to go home, after which the holiday ended prematurely.
The Princess of Monaco's heart was filled with mixed feelings. She was still in favor, Philip showed a lot of attention to her, however, she noticed that gradually all his attention was switching to the princess. Perhaps the fault was that the princess was listed as just a maid of honor to the princess, which, against her will, placed her significantly lower than Henrietta. The princess made excellent use of her position, realizing that even the princess’s mood was in her power. Giving reasons for small joys in Philip's absence and inflicting unnoticeable injections on the princess in Philip's presence, she influenced her mood, and when left alone with Philip, she drew his attention to the fact that the princess showed much more liveliness when Philip was not around than in his presence. . This gave rise to the poison of jealousy in Philip's heart, which gradually took possession of his entire heart. In this way, the princess gradually strengthened her influence over Philip.
Returning ahead of time to his office, Philip received news from Hubert that two envoys from Captain d'Artagnan had arrived to him, who had an important message for the King.
-Where is this message? - asked Philip.
“They claim that the message is oral,” replied Hubert.
“Well, ask,” sighed Philip, who was worried about the health of Princess Henrietta.
“Your Majesty, Captain d’Artagnan asked me to convey an important message to you in words,” said de Segal. - These are the words: “Marciali has fled, danger to the Duke-Bishop and his friend F.”
- And you, monsieur, arrived with what message? - Philip asked the second musketeer.
“Exactly the same thing,” replied de Parisot. “The captain first wanted to write it in writing, then he changed his mind and forced us to learn this phrase by heart, after which he ordered us to return to the Louvre along different roads.
- Thank you, gentlemen! - Philip answered. “Your service is extremely important, I will ensure that you are properly rewarded.” You are free.
De Segal and de Parisot bowed and left.
“So my brother ran away! - thought Philip. - How is this possible? Had de Saint-Mars, who guarded me so strictly, made a mistake? If there was even the slightest opportunity to escape, I would take it! Either d'Artagnan betrayed me, or de Saint-Mars, or some other people who entered into a conspiracy with Saint-Mars are privy to this terrible secret! I have to find out! The Duke-Bishop is, of course, d'Herblay. And “F” is me, Philip. Of course, this is not Fouquet, why should I care about Fouquet? D'Artagnan couldn't have told the musketeer that the King was in danger! He did not dare to write a letter, therefore, he is afraid of spies who could intercept him. Therefore, he knows that someone else is involved in this escape. Who could it be? Saint-Mars wrote that d'Epernon, sent by Colbert, came to the fortress. Therefore, Saint-Mars cannot be a traitor. D'Artagnan warned me about Louis's escape, therefore he too cannot be a traitor. So, Monsieur Colbert got wind of something, and he sent d’Epernon not out of simple curiosity, he knew that Louis was hiding under the guise of Marchiali!”
Philip looked at his watch. In two hours, Colbert was supposed to appear for the next report on business and to sign various orders and instructions.
“Well, let's wait! - Philip decided. “Two hours won’t change anything.” I won’t call him ahead of schedule, this will allow me to take him by surprise and find out the truth!”
Philip rang the bell. He said to Hubert who came in:
- Hubert, where is the Duke of Alameda now?
“I’ll find out, Your Majesty,” Hubert replied. - Would you like to invite me?
“Yes, my dear,” answered Philip.

Half an hour later Aramis appeared to Philip.
“Your Majesty,” Aramis bowed.
“Duke,” Philip nodded. - I'm glad to see you in good health. But do you know what message came to me from your friend Captain d'Artagnan?
- What message? - asked Aramis.
“Marciali fled,” answered Philip. - You understand?..
“I understand, Your Majesty,” Aramis replied. - How long ago?
— The musketeers sent by the captain were traveling here from the town of Cannes, therefore along the same route. The fugitive may already be in Paris,” Philip answered.
“Well, I’ll take action,” Aramis replied. — Do you suspect someone of complicity?
“Colbert and d'Epernon,” answered Philip.
“I told you so, Your Majesty,” Aramis smiled. - Colbert resign, Fouquet returned to his previous position, me as a permanent adviser.
- Your Fouquet ruined everything! - Philip answered dissatisfied. “You, Monsieur Duke, disappeared, I was taken back to the Bastille, and then to Pignerol!” If it weren't for Monsieur d'Artagnan, I would have stayed there!
- Monsieur d'Artagnan acted extremely nobly! - Aramis agreed. - But he's not here. I believe he is in Crete, but will return soon.
“So, Mister Duke, what do you propose to do to get Marciali reinstated?” - asked Philip. — Call for a manhunt?
“It’s absolutely impossible to put a person with that appearance on the wanted list,” Aramis objected.
- In that case, what? - asked Philip.
“ Extremely strengthen your security and that of the palace,” answered Aramis. “No stranger should be allowed into the palace without special permission.”

CXXXV. Friends

“You arranged all this magnificently, d’Artagnan!” - said Athos when the friends arrived at the port of Gramvous.
“After Count Rochefort told me that the letter was written by Olivia du Trabuson, it was no longer difficult to guess the rest,” answered d’Artagnan. “This lady’s husband plotted and prevented me from carrying out the sovereign’s orders, and my son followed me so persistently that I had to capture him after he tried to shoot me in the back.
- Well, one family! - Porthos agreed. - And everyone has the same anger.
“Their mother is the center of evil and meanness,” answered d’Artagnan. — The husband is henpecked, the son is still young, but already spoiled. Beginner bastard. If a person shoots in the back in his youth, in his old age he will be capable of any evil.
“The information about the Duke of Beaufort turned out to be fiction,” said Athos. -Where to next, friends?
- To Paris, friends! - answered d'Artagnan. - Aramis is in great danger!
- In Paris! - Athos and Porthos exclaimed in one voice.
“As for me, gentlemen, I inform you that Charles-Cesar de Rochefort is leaving for Orleans, and from there to his county of Rochefort.” I'm fed up with politics!
- Which ship do we prefer, gentlemen? - asked Athos.
“The Marlin ship on which I arrived is one of the fastest here in the Mediterranean,” answered d’Artagnan. “Perhaps it’s not as comfortable as your Walrus, but...
- We're going on the Marlin! - Athos answered.
“But if there is not enough food and wine on it,” Porthos noted, “then we should take supplies from the Walrus.” Just no octopus, shrimp, crabs or any seafood at all!
An hour later, the Marlin was already cutting through the waves of the Mediterranean Sea, taking our heroes to the shores of France.

CXXXVI. Viscount de Bragelonne 

Raoul, as our dear readers remember, left for England, where at the court of King Charles II he would like to meet again with Miss Mary Grafton. Let's look into his room and read the letter that he just wrote before he sealed it.

“Dear father! I hasten to share my happiness. Miss Mary Grafton confessed to me today that she feels for me the same feelings that I think I find in myself. Even on my first visit, I noted the high qualities of her soul, as well as the extraordinary beauty of her face and figure. But since my thoughts were only about Louise, I ordered myself not to see or notice all her advantages. Despite my coldness, even then Miss Mary singled me out from all her acquaintances and was extremely nice to me. Remembering now how I behaved with her, I think that my emphasized coldness exceeded the boundaries of decency and only such a kind girl as Miss Mary could forgive me for my extreme aloofness and absent-mindedness when talking with her. We discussed a thousand topics, and on every point raised Miss Mary showed the utmost discretion. She herself explains her erudition by being extremely well-read, however, I believe that reading alone could not create such an angel in a female form, and here, of course, the nature of her noble origin was reflected. It’s not for nothing that they say in the East that a donkey loaded with books is not yet a wise man. Therefore, I cannot attribute her deep intelligence to books alone. Father! She furrows her brows so charmingly when she condemns those who certainly deserve it, and smiles so sweetly when talking about those she loves, that I never cease to admire her face and give her more and more new topics to talk about, so that just marvel at her intelligence and enjoy the play of emotions on her face.
Here in England, everyone is talking about an imminent war between France and Holland and they say that England could act as an ally of France, provided that the French fleet is sufficiently active and victorious in the first weeks of the battles. This means, again, war! Well, it’s not fitting for me, an officer, to sit in the rear. I decided to become a naval officer. I have already acquired some skills during sea voyages under the leadership of the Duke of Beaufort. I asked to see the Duke of Albemanle, who enlisted me as a junior mate on the ship "Swift". The Duke suggested that I choose a name in the English manner, and now your son’s name is Raoul Butts. I hope you will soon hear of the exploits of Captain Butts, dear father!
Don't judge me for changing my name. Firstly, in France I am listed as dead. Secondly, I myself would like to break my ties with a country in which the King does not hesitate to steal brides from his subjects, therefore I would like to become an English subject. Thirdly, Miss Mary... However, I will not propose to her before I cover myself with the glory of a brave naval officer.
The sad news has reached me of the tragic death of your friend Baron du Valon due to the fact that the Baron appointed me as his heir. This is a great misfortune for all of us, and, of course, it is most difficult for you, my dear father, to bear this tragic loss. I won't have to enter into inheritance rights. Fortunately, when I went to war with the Duke de Beaufort, I wrote my will, had it notarized and left it with Grimaud. In it I leave all my property, if any, to you, dear father, and if I outlive you, I leave everything to your friend d'Artagnan. Since you and I, father, are listed as dead, about which the commandant of the Candia fortress has drawn up documents, I am not going to be resurrected, and prefer to remain in the eyes of all the French in the status that fate has given me. Only my dear mother, Madame Duchesse de Chevreuse, and you and two or three of my most trusted friends will know the truth. Therefore, Monsieur d'Artagnan can assume the rights of inheritance of my small inheritance, as well as the huge inheritance from the poor Baron du Valon. It is a pity that Captain d'Artagnan has no children and he has no one to bequeath this inheritance to. I wouldn't want it to go to the treasury. However, maybe he has some distant relatives. This inheritance doesn't interest me at all. I want to provide for my own life, and the salary of a naval officer suits me quite well. I embrace you tightly, dearly loving Raoul Bats de Bragelonne, who, I hope, in the very near future will be able to sign his letters with his new name - Captain Bats .

CXXXVII. Future plans 

During the voyage, friends shared memories and plans for the future.
“Do you know that it is extremely comfortable for me to sail in the company of two dead people, you, Porthos, and you, Athos!” - said d'Artagnan. “I am extremely happy that you died only on paper, and damn me if I don’t envy you!” How I would also like to disappear from big politics, to get away from all this court camarilla! Now a new war is being started with Holland. Personally, Holland did nothing for me; I find this trip unnecessary.
“I am ready to admit that you are right, d’Artagnan,” said Athos. - The state when everyone considers you dead is not new to me. You know that in my youth I abandoned my county and became a simple musketeer. So the Count de La F;re disappeared from the face of the earth and the musketeer Athos appeared. But the fate of a person who does not value his life, who endures hunger, cold and lack of money and exposes his chest to swords and bullets for the sake of some bright ideals of protecting the King, Queen, numerous princes and dukes, all this very quickly begins to seem petty, pathetic, insignificant. The meaning of life is not in war, my friend. The meaning of life is in life itself. And when I realized this, Count de La F;re was resurrected, and Athos died. But sometimes I missed the life of Athos. This is how a person is designed, he is always burdened by what he has, and wants to have what he never had, and even more so, what he had but lost. However, the false courtly brilliance and its true moral emptiness and feeblemindedness will make any person a skeptic. And since I've never been an optimist, I got tired of it much sooner than I should have. Solitude in Blois was brightened only by worries about young Raoul. Now, when my father’s care could only harm him, no one, not even myself, needed me.
- Athos, we need you! - exclaimed Porthos.
- Count, don’t say that! - D'Artagnan supported Porthos. — Our four are strong with your participation in it! You have always been and will be our conscience and honor, remain as you are!
“Thank you, friends, thank you, but it’s for you that I live, and for you I’m alive, I’m the rest...” with these words, Athos waved his hand contemptuously.
“As for me,” answered Porthos, “I cannot say that I really like being a dead man, but I prefer this calm and relaxation to the situation when the King sent a whole army after me and Aramis.” It would be better for me to never set foot on Pierrefonds soil than to again carry out a lengthy reconnaissance with the aim of occupying a more strategically advantageous position and preventing encirclement and subsequent capture. By the way, d'Artagnan, what method of death do you prefer?
“I read a small book about the Russian Tsar Ivan,” answered d’Artagnan. “This king had a servant who protected him from both internal and external enemies. His name was Grigory Skuratov, or even, it seems, he had a double surname - Lukyanovich-Skuratov. For some reason he was nicknamed Malyuta. So he died when he was hit by a cannonball during the siege of one of the fortresses. It seems to me that this was the best solution for him. He definitely should have died before his king, because otherwise he would not have been well. Our glorious King, who hunted all my friends, paid for it, but now he is apparently going to return. If he succeeds, I need to disappear from France, and a cannonball would do just fine.
- Contact Aramis! - Athos smiled. “He has agents who are excellent at faking death during battle. Raul and I were convinced of this from our own experience, without even imagining such plans for our lives.
- Why walk so far? - Count Rochefort intervened. “I think, gentlemen, that I have enough friends who could ensure such a glorious death for you almost in front of your subordinates, so that no one would suspect a trick.” If you have one reliable person from among the officers who will confirm your death, I will take care of the rest.
“Senior Lieutenant d’Arlencourt, I believe, could help me,” said d’Artagnan thoughtfully. - Do you think this is possible?
“We’ll discuss the details later,” Rochefort replied. “For the sake of such a joke on the King, I’ll probably postpone my trip to Orleans!”
- Looks like our dead club will soon increase by one member? - Porthos grinned. - You should drink to this! Do we still have any Burgundy left?
- You're kidding, Porthos! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. - For such an occasion we have Tokay!

CXXXVIII. Aramis 

The Duchess de Chevreuse locked the doors, soaped Louis' cheeks and picked up a razor. She only managed to shave one of the King’s cheeks when someone very insistently knocked on her door.
- Oh, you can’t come to me! - exclaimed the Duchess. - I'm not dressed!
- What are you saying, Duchess! - Aramis' voice came from behind the door. - Do you think this will stop me? Open up, or I'll break down the doors!
- Your Majesty, this is d'Herblay! - the Duchess whispered to Louis. - You need to hide. Come to my boudoir.
- What if he looks in there? - Louis asked worriedly.
- Don’t worry, he won’t look there, I promise you that! - the duchess answered firmly.
- Duchess, are you delaying? I count to five and break down doors! - Aramis growled. - One! Two! Three!
- Wait, Henri! Give me time to at least throw something on myself! I'm on my way! - the duchess shouted and hurried to open the bolt.
- Do you have it? - Aramis asked, carefully looking around the room.
- What I see! - the duchess exclaimed coquettishly. - Monsieur d'Herblay has finally become jealous of me! I would have been happy some thirty or twenty years ago, but now it’s just childish. However, it's very cute! Such an unfamiliar feeling...
“Duchess, don’t joke with me,” Aramis said coldly. - You know who I'm looking for here.
“You can only look for me here,” the duchess laughed, “but you stopped looking for me a long time ago.”
“Even if I doubted the correctness of my guess, the locked door and your embarrassment finally convinced me,” Aramis continued. - You never locked the doors.
“ I wasn’t dressed, I told you!” - exclaimed the Duchess.
“You didn’t even know who was knocking on your door,” Aramis objected. “And it could just be your maid.” Wouldn't you open it for her too?
“At my age, it is very important that everyone sees me in an appropriate form,” the duchess said sharply. - No powder is needed while you are young, but when you are already a little over thirty, the slightest sloppiness in blush or powder is unacceptable.
— A little over thirty, duchess? - Aramis asked ironically.
- Oh, don’t find fault with words! - Maria waved it off. “I’m just saying that the maids shouldn’t see me with a sloppy face.”
“I must search your rooms, madam,” Aramis said firmly.
-Have you forgotten who you're dealing with? — the Duchess grinned. “I never occupy rooms that don’t have two exits.” If I wanted to hide someone from you, I would have let him out of the second exit, and you still wouldn’t have found anyone.
“I didn’t take that into account,” Aramis answered with annoyance. “We should have placed our man at the second door.”
- Your man! - Maria mimicked. - Once upon a time I was your person, and now you are taking some actions against me. How fickle men are!
“I don’t dare argue with you, duchess, given your vast experience,” Aramis smiled.
- You are impudent, Henri! - the duchess exclaimed coquettishly. - Oh, why do I always forgive you everything?
“So, you had him, and he left you,” Aramis concluded. - What you have agreed? However, if you hide the truth, it means you are at the same time with him.
- Tell me, finally, who are you talking about? - asked the duchess.
“You understand me perfectly, madam,” Aramis answered harshly. “I’m talking about the man who destroyed the happiness of your son, Raoul de Bragelonne.” I'm talking about the man who gave the order to arrest and execute him, your son, as well as the father of this common child of yours, the Comte de La F;re. You intend to help this man regain power so that he can complete what he failed to do, so that he can deal with me and Captain d'Artagnan. Do you want that?
- But... Is he... Really? “I didn’t know anything...” muttered the Duchess.
“You knew everything, duchess,” Aramis answered harshly and coldly. - You always know everything. You know everything you want to know and ignore what you don't want to know. This is all you are. You involved noble nobles, princes, dukes and kings in your intrigues, and you were never embarrassed by the fact that some of them paid with their freedom, and some with their heads. You walked jokingly over heads. And now you are ready to destroy what was created painstakingly and for a long time! You will help him regain his power in order to again imprison his brother, who has no less rights to occupy this place, and who spent his entire life in captivity!
“This is your male view of things, which, perhaps, differs from the view of a woman, because in addition to a cold mind, she also has a heart,” the duchess exclaimed passionately.
— Did you mean not in addition, but instead? - Aramis said sarcastically. - Is he so pathetic that he aroused your sympathy?
“He is my King, and yours, Henri, too,” answered the duchess fervently. - You swore an oath to him!
“Clerics do not swear allegiance to the King,” Aramis objected.
-You swore allegiance to his father! - the duchess objected.
“Yes, I swore allegiance to him, being a musketeer, and promised to be a faithful servant to his son as well,” Aramis agreed. — Where do you see the inconsistency? Is not the other one the son of the King to whom I swore allegiance?
“Oh, do as you know, I don’t interfere in this,” answered the duchess. “You are convinced that I don’t have it, so leave me, I beg you.” I had a headache.
“I warned you, duchess,” answered Aramis. “Don’t get in my way, otherwise I’ll crush you.”
After these words, Aramis left the duchess’s room, slamming the door behind him.
“You can’t trust her in anything,” thought Aramis. “She is so excited by the thought that the fate of France depends on her actions that she forgets about everything else.”
“If he had seen me as the old Marie, if he had called me Maria, if he had asked for help, if he had said the very words that he spoke to me many years ago, it seems that I would have done everything he asks,” thought the duchess. “He demands, he tries to intimidate me, he doesn’t see me as a person, I’m a thing for him. I won't help him. And Count de La F;re... After all, Louis considers him dead! Raoul left France forever. D'Artagnan will be able to stand up for himself. Henri is only afraid for himself.”
“Your Majesty, the danger has passed,” said the duchess, opening the doors to the boudoir. - Come out and we will continue shaving you.

Aramis immediately after visiting the duchess went to Philip.
“Bad news, Your Majesty,” he told Philip. “The Duchess de Chevreuse is hiding Louis somewhere.” Order her to be monitored, and keep in mind that her apartment has two entrances. Trusted people must be placed to keep an eye on any of these exits. Sooner or later, he will come to her, and then we will take him.
- Oh, leave it alone! - Philip exclaimed. - I have no time for that right now. Did you know that Princess Henrietta died today?
“This is terrible, Your Majesty,” Aramis replied. “This could seriously quarrel between France and England and have a bad effect on relations with Spain.” A council of doctors should be convened to reliably establish the causes of this misfortune and publish them widely. And yet there are more important things to do now than to indulge in grief.
- There are more important things to do, you say? - Philip exclaimed sadly. “What could be more important than the death of my daughter-in-law, my younger brother’s wife?”
“The matter I’m talking about is more important!” - Aramis answered. “Don’t forget about your other brother and the danger he poses to you!”
“You probably have no heart at all!” - Philip exclaimed.
“This is the second person this evening calling me heartless,” thought Aramis. — Philip is a good person, and, moreover, sentimental. But is sentimentality befitting a real King of France? Perhaps I am trying in vain to protect him? Perhaps it is better to let events take their course? Should I listen to my mind, or should I listen to my heart this time?”

CXXXIX. On the ship 

The ship "Marlin" was already approaching the shores of France when d'Artagnan decided to discuss the conflict with his friends. Choosing a good moment when Rochefort was carried away by the conversation with the captain, he put his finger to his lips and pointed with his eyes in Rochefort’s direction, after which he said in a low voice:
- We need to discuss something.
“We are listening,” Athos answered for himself and for Porthos.
“You know, gentlemen, serious unrest may arise in Paris,” said d’Artagnan, “and the involuntary cause of this is I, your simple-minded and overly gullible Charles d’Artagnan.”
“You said that Aramis was in danger,” Athos reminded. - Is this related to what you are talking about?
“In the closest possible way,” answered the captain. - Remember his idea of replacing Louis with his brother? I made it happen.
“In that case, Aramis has escaped serious danger,” said Athos. - So this operation failed?
“Yes and no,” continued d’Artagnan. “As far as I can tell, nothing fatal has happened yet, but it could happen at any minute.” The fact is that I did not have the courage to imprison the King in the fortress of Pignerol as a simple criminal.
“You have always been more noble than you wanted to appear, d’Artagnan,” said Athos. - I understand you. So what did you do?
“There is an abbey on the neighboring island, and I sent him there,” answered the captain. “I managed to convince the King that his chances of regaining the throne are negligible. By chance, he received marks on his forehead, and I assured him that they would remain forever. But the marks were the result of only minor damage to the very superficial layer of the skin, so I had an idea that they would soon go away. Apparently this is what happened. Louis realized that the chance had not been missed and fled from the abbey. I found out about this by chance, because I stopped there on the way to visit His Majesty and see if he needed anything. I was only a couple of days late. Now Louis is probably already in Paris.
“And you, knowing this, went to save us?” - Porthos admired. - After all, you should have set off in pursuit of the King! If he regains the throne, he will send you to the Bastille.
- Oh, that's not necessary at all! - D'Artagnan objected. “It is very unlikely that the King will do this, you don’t have to worry about that, dear Porthos!”
- Well, then everything is fine! - the baron answered joyfully. “If you, d’Artagnan, are not threatened by the Bastille, then you were absolutely right to rush to our rescue!”
- Porthos, he is threatened with the gallows! - Athos objected.
- Indeed? - Porthos was surprised. - D'Artagnan, did you mean this when you said that the Bastille did not threaten you?
“That’s exactly it,” agreed the captain. “The best I can hope for is that the King will replace hanging with beheading.” I cannot say that I will be extremely grateful to him for such a favor, although, apparently, I should be grateful for this too.
“And you, knowing about such a danger, are rushing to Paris?” - asked Porthos.
“But Aramis is there,” answered d’Artagnan. - Can I leave him there alone?
“That means all four of us will go up to the scaffold,” Athos said calmly. “It will be a fitting end to our lives and will enhance our friendship.”
- Athos, I ask you, do not exaggerate the meaning of beautiful gestures! - objected d'Artagnan, wincing. “I assure you, it will not be more pleasant for me to hang on a rope knowing that all my friends will be hanged next to me.” I prefer a different development of events. Don't forget that you and Porthos are considered dead! These are our trump cards, we must extract as much benefit from this as possible. And you propose to go and surrender to young Louis just because he may have intentions of eliminating two of us! As long as there are four of us, it’s not so easy to erase us from life!
“But the two of us have already been eliminated,” Porthos smiled.
“A similar option is suitable for me,” agreed d’Artagnan. “That’s why I started talking about faking death by cannonball.” However, I also told the honest truth that I was tired of being an errand officer, even if the King handed me the marshal’s baton. So the circumstances I'm talking about only strengthen me in my decision.
- What about Aramis? - asked Porthos.
“I hope that the immunity of the Spanish ambassador extends to him,” said d’Artagnan. “But this will not protect him from poison or from being attacked by a robber from around the corner.” In this case, the King will declare that he had nothing to do with it. Therefore, the only thing that truly protects him is that the King needs him because France needs him, regardless of who is King, Philip or Louis.
“You know, d’Artagnan, Louis’s father very often neglected the interests of the state in the name of the interests of the family,” said Athos. “Therefore, one can expect that his son will be able to neglect the interests of the state in the interests of personal safety.” In addition, you always want to take revenge for an insult!
“That’s why we are rushing to Paris!” - answered the captain. “However, I warned Aramis in two messages, one of them will definitely arrive.”
“So our task is to capture Louis and put him in prison?” - Porthos asked innocently.
“It appears so,” answered d’Artagnan, “but, believe me, it is not easy to do.”
- Nonsense! - exclaimed Porthos. “The four of us will defeat three dozen soldiers!”
“Well, firstly, there may be not three dozen, but three thousand,” objected d’Artagnan, “and secondly, I had in mind a difficulty of a completely different kind.”
“D’Artagnan means that the decision to imprison the rightful King of France is a very difficult decision,” Athos explained. “Besides, there is always a choice.”
- Which choice? - asked Porthos.
“Either remove Louis, or try to come to an agreement with him and remove Philip,” explained d’Artagnan.
- But Louis is our enemy, and Philip is our friend! - exclaimed Porthos. - Or am I missing something?
“That’s what happened when Louis wanted to starve Aramis and me to death,” said d’Artagnan. “But times change, and people change too. Louis is no longer the same, and Philippe is no longer the same.
- So, we must choose a King under whom the four of us will be better off? - asked Porthos.
- Oh, my dear Porthos! - exclaimed d'Artagnan. “If only all matters could always be solved so simply!”
“We must choose the King who will be the best King of France,” Athos answered firmly. “Only in this case will we continue to live with a clear conscience.”
“What will happen to us if it turns out that Louis is better for France than Philip?” - asked Porthos.
“That, my friend, is no longer so important,” Athos answered with a smile.
- Yes, Athos, you are undoubtedly right! - D'Artagnan agreed. - You are right, as always!
- But how do we know which King is better for France? - asked Porthos.
“If you don’t know what’s waiting for you behind the door, open it,” answered d’Artagnan. - In Paris!
“To Paris,” agreed Athos.
- To Paris, damn it! - exclaimed Porthos.

CXL. Louvre 

“Your Majesty,” Colbert said to Philip, “it seems to me that it is necessary to conduct a thorough investigation into the causes of the death of Princess Henrietta.”
“This is already being done,” Philippe answered coldly, peering into Colbert’s face.
“Particular attention should be paid to the activities of the Chevalier de Lorrain,” Colbert continued. “There are strong reasons to suspect his involvement in this death.”
- Suspect?! - exclaimed Philip, who was just looking for a reason to quarrel with Colbert. — Can suspicions be the basis of legal proceedings? If you know something specific, speak up! If you don’t know anything, keep quiet!
“I am guided by precisely these principles, Your Majesty,” Colbert replied. “So I ask for an investigation so we can know.”
- Colbert, leave de Lorrain alone! - Philip exclaimed. “The Chevalier is an excellent organizer of royal entertainment, and you seem to be annoyed that I spend more time in his company than in yours!” But you forget that although I am a King, I do not cease to be a man. I need rest, entertainment, fun, after all!
“We have to prepare for war, Your Majesty,” Colbert reminded. — Fun can wait until complete victory.
- Until complete victory! - Philip exclaimed. - How long will you have to wait? Do you know what it means to wait, Mr. Colbert? You don't know anything about it. I know! Yes, yes, I know what it's like to wait! Waiting when you have no hope that anything will change. Waiting when it seems like endless days, hours, months are passing... You won’t understand me!
“I understand that Your Majesty is talking about the time when Cardinal Mazarin did not give you proper power...” Colbert muttered.
“You don’t understand anything, Colbert!” - Philip interrupted him. “I don’t know how much time I’ll have!” I thought I would enjoy conversations with the princess, and lo and behold! She's no longer there. Perhaps tomorrow I will be gone! And you tell me to deny myself little entertainments, give up rest, and think only about political affairs?
“Your venerable father, King Louis XIII , did not like to engage in politics,” Colbert recalled. “He appointed Cardinal Richelieu as the first minister of France, and the cardinal did a good job of it.
Philip turned sharply to face Colbert and looked intently into his eyes.
— Do you want to be first minister? - he said dryly and harshly. - Do you know that Richelieu became the autocratic master of the country, the real and actual King, while my father became a formal ceremonial appendage to the cardinal? Do you want that? Do you want to become a real King of France, giving me the place of a court parrot who scrapes with diplomats and trails every skirt? So that I narrow my interests to gastronomic pleasures, hunting, card games, gallant adventures?
“It’s almost happened,” Colbert thought. “Do politics yourself, or let me do it, or find another person!”
- Why are you silent, Mr. Colbert? - Philip asked impatiently.
“Your Majesty is absolutely right that you do not want to appoint the first minister, and I in no way lay claim to this post,” Colbert hastened to assure Philippe. “I would only like your attention to the problems of government to be a little more, and your attention to the entertainment organized by the Chevalier de Lorrain a little less.” They are already saying at court that the King...
- Why are you silent? - asked Philip. -What are they talking about at court? And who dares to say something about me behind my back?
“Sorry, Your Majesty, I meant that some issues of public administration take too long to resolve, or are not resolved at all,” Colbert said.
- Look how much time you and I spent on empty bickering! - Philip waved him off. - How many papers could I sign in this time!
“In that case, let’s not waste time and start considering the most urgent orders,” Colbert said, opening his folder.
“Okay, but first tell me why you sent d’Epernon to Pignerol?” - asked Philip.
“I wanted him to bring me Fouquet so that I could talk with him about those issues that I already had the honor of reporting on,” Colbert replied.
- Lie! You sent it even before I sent Fouquet there! - Philip objected.
“Let me explain,” Colbert said.
“You ignored my order not to poke your nose where it shouldn’t!” - Philip continued. - Colbert, I am dismissing you. Kindly refer the matter to Secretary of State Letelier. I won't keep you any longer.
“Your Majesty, you are making a big mistake,” Colbert said calmly.
“You are making a big mistake, Colbert,” answered Philip. - More precisely, you have already done it. And thank God that I am not sending you to the Bastille.
Colbert placed the folder with the documents prepared for signature on Louis’s table, bowed and left the King’s office.
At that moment, Philip heard the creak of the door and looked back. The door of the mirrored cabinet opened and Louis came out of the cabinet.
— Philippe, did you dismiss Colbert? - exclaimed Louis. - What will happen to France?
- How did you get here? - Philip exclaimed. - I'll call security!
“Don’t rush, Philippe,” replied Louis. “I can call security too.” And which of us do you think they should listen to? Which one of us should they arrest? We are like two peas in a pod. We are alone in this office. In my office. How I've been waiting for this moment!
“I’ll say that you are an impostor,” Philip said uncertainly.
“I’ll say the same about you,” Louis replied.
- So, we will compete to see who will be trusted more? - asked Philip. —Are you implying that our chances are equal? I can easily prove that I am me, since I know what I said yesterday, a week ago, and a month ago, while you...
“I will prove that I am the King of France,” replied Louis, “because I know much of what you do not know, what happened a year ago, two years ago, all my life except for the last few months!”
- Let's see who wins! - Philip exclaimed, heading through the doors.
- Wait, my brother! - Louis held him back. “I know that fate has played a cruel joke on us, and I know that you have suffered more than mine.” I also admit that I treated you too harshly by sending you back to the Bastille and then to Pignerol. I ask your forgiveness for this. But you and I are obliged to think about the good of France. Now only four people besides you and me know about our secret. This is Fouquet, Captain d'Artagnan, Duchess de Chevreuse and Bishop of Vannes d'Herblay. Fouquet is arrested and will not be able to tell anyone anything. The other three will remain silent, I am convinced of this. If you open the doors now, in a minute several more people will know about this secret, tomorrow all of Paris will know about it, the day after tomorrow - all of France, and in a week - the whole world. France will split into two hostile camps, the surrounding countries will not fail to take advantage of its weakening in order to grab tidbits for themselves. France will be immediately attacked by Turkey and Holland, then England will seize our northwestern sea ports, Turkey will seize our southern ports, Spain will also grab a fair chunk. Brittany will rise. The country faces chaos and civil war. Do you want that?
“I don’t want to know anything about this!” - Philip objected. “I will fight for my rights by all means possible.”
After these words, Philip walked to the doors and sharply opened them.
At the door he met Captain d'Artagnan. The Duke d'Alameda stood next to him.

CXLI. Choice 

At first glance, d'Artagnan accurately assessed the situation.
“Hello, Your Majesties,” he said calmly and bowed to both brothers.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty and Monsignor,” Aramis said in such a way that it was not clear which of the two addresses referred to Philip and which to Louis, after which he closed the doors of the office from the inside.
- Look, d'Herblay, what your criminal actions have led to! - exclaimed Louis.
- D'Artagnan, how did you allow him to escape? - Philip exclaimed. - I will order Saint-Mars to be hanged!
“De Saint-Mars is not guilty of anything, Your Majesty,” answered d’Artagnan. “I did not bring King Louis XIV of France to him because I did not consider myself entitled to do so. The king was in the abbey.
- Stop calling this impostor Your Majesty! - exclaimed Louis. “Saint-Mars really didn’t know anything, and he’s not guilty of anything,” he added, turning to Philippe. “It would be unfair to hang him.” He is a very honest man and a serviceable officer.
- Monsieur d'Artagnan, arrest my brother! - Philip said firmly.
“Captain d'Artagnan, arrest my brother,” said Louis.
“Marshal of France, Mister d’Artagnan, follow the order and arrest Louis,” Philip ordered.
“Chief Marshal of France, Mister d’Artagnan, arrest Philippe,” said Louis.
“First Minister of France, M. d’Artagnan, arrest Louis,” Philip cried.
“Wait, gentlemen of the Kings,” objected d’Artagnan. - There is only one Chief Marshal of France, and yet Mr. Henri de La Tour d'Auvergne, Viscount de Turenne has not left this position, as far as I know. There is no first minister in France, and I hope there will not be.
“France won’t even have two Kings,” Aramis, who had been watching what was happening with interest all this time, finally raised his voice.
“Yes, that’s true,” agreed d’Artagnan. - I swear on my life! What is there! I swear on my honor, on the honor of Charles d'Artagnan, that only one King of France will leave this room.
- What will happen to the second one? - Philip asked d'Artagnan.
“This will be decided by the first, he is the only King,” Aramis answered, although the question was not asked to him.
“I agree,” said d’Artagnan. — This issue can be considered secondary for now.
“He only promised to make you a marshal, d’Artagnan, but he never did,” said Philip.
“Like you,” replied Louis.
“Your brother’s lack of obligation does not irritate me,” d’Artagnan said to Philippe. “He promised to starve me to death in the Bastille together with Monsieur d’Herblay, he promised to hang me, and also promised to rot me in Pignerol.” I would rather that all the promises that His Majesty made to me should not be fulfilled, than that they should all be fulfilled exactly.
- I fired Colbert! - Philip exclaimed. - I can return Fouquet!
— Did you fire Colbert? - D'Artagnan asked in surprise.
— Do you agree to return Fouquet to the post of superintendent of finance? - Aramis asked with the same surprise.
- Yes, I say this completely seriously! - Philip answered.
“Monseigneur, in the name of the King, I will arrest you,” d’Artagnan said coldly to Philip.
“Please put on this mask,” added Aramis, taking out of his pocket a gray cloth mask that covered his entire face.
“Your Majesty, will you order that the arrested person be taken to the Pignerol fortress under the name Marchiali?” - D'Artagnan asked Louis.
“No, to the Bastille, under the name Eustache Doge,” replied Louis. “I’ll write the order now.” And here's another thing. De Bezmo resigns. I appoint de Saint-Mars to the post of commandant of the Bastille, who must arrive at the Bastille with two of his prisoners, Marchiali and Fouquet. Both of them should be kept in solitary confinement in the Bastille. The rules for the detention of Eustache Dauger are the same as those established by my previous order regarding the prisoner Marchiali. Until the arrival of de Saint-Mars, Monsieur de Bezmeaux retains his position as commandant of the Bastille, but under the control of the captain of the royal musketeers, d'Artagnan, who will remain on duty in the Bastille until the arrival of de Saint-Mars. Mr. Duke d'Alameda, I will not detain you any longer today; I believe you have a lot to do to resolve many diplomatic issues to further strengthen military cooperation between Spain and France. Just one small request: Monsieur Colbert returns to his post, the decision on his resignation is canceled, I ask you to inform him about this, Monsieur Duke. I have a lot of other urgent matters right now.
D'Artagnan and d'Herblay bowed to Louis and placed their right hands on the hilts of their swords. Seeing this gesture, Philip put on the mask offered to him and, bowing his head, left the King's office, accompanied by d'Artagnan and Aramis.
After they left, the King's secretary, Hubert, came through the door.
“Your Majesty, the Chevalier de Lorraine has come to see you,” he said.
“Let him get out,” Louis waved him off. - I have no time for him.

CXLII. Pont Neuf Bridge 

On the night preceding the events described in the previous chapter, two noblemen leisurely strolled along the Pont Neuf bridge, peering intently into the darkness.
- Look! - exclaimed the one who was noticeably taller. - It seems like what we need.
- Buddy, wait a minute! - exclaimed the second. - Don't rush into this matter! Please give us five minutes first.
- Go to hell! - answered a voice from the darkness.
- We will leave, of course, and will not stop you from finishing what you started! - answered the taller one. “But we think we have an offer that might interest you.”
- Well, what else do you need? — the man who was called by these two nobles asked in a dissatisfied voice.
After these words, a tramp in torn clothes approached them.
“Forgive me, for God’s sake,” said the tall one. “It seemed to us that you decided to jump off this bridge.”
“Who cares what I decide to do?” - the tramp answered rudely. “I can manage my own life.”
“That’s certainly true,” answered the second. - But perhaps you would agree to listen to our proposal regarding another option?
“I’m fed up with this life and decided to end it here and now,” answered the tramp. “I’m tired of the poverty in which I live. And I don’t want to prolong this hateful life by a single day!
- If we offered you to spend some more time in the warmth, so that you were fed with exquisite dishes, you wore the finest soft linen and very decent clothes, and it would not cost you anything, then in this case you would refuse to talk to us and would rather jump from a bridge into the Seine? - asked the shorter one.
- What's the catch here? - asked the tramp. - What are you offering me?
“Just don’t jump off the bridge and die for at least a while,” the tall one answered. “If our conditions seem burdensome to you, you can return to your idea of ending your life at any time, and, believe me, no one will interfere with this!”
- What will I have to do for this? — the tramp asked incredulously.
“Just go to jail,” answered the second. - You will need to replace one person who does not belong there.
- To jail?! - exclaimed the tramp. - Do you want to throw an innocent person into the Bastille? This is lawlessness!
“We just offered you an alternative,” answered the shorter one. - Your will to agree or refuse. If you find suicide a more attractive prospect, it's your choice.
-Who the hell are you? - exclaimed the tramp.
“We are volunteers who, on a whim, decided to reduce the number of suicides in Paris,” the tall one answered.
“You’d better reduce the number of bandits and robbers!” - objected the tramp. — Take a walk to the Change Bridge. It's full of murderers, robbers and rapists. Take anyone and take them to the Bastille.
“Well, thank you for the idea,” the shorter one answered and put the wallet in the tramp’s hand.
- What is this? Gold? To me? - asked the tramp. - Yes, they will throw me and him into your Bastille! No need! - and he returned the wallet
“Then take this,” the tall one said and put a larger wallet on the tramp’s hand. - There is silver here, my friend. It won't arouse any suspicion.
“We apologize for preventing you from fulfilling your intention,” said the shorter one. — You can get back to your nightly swimming plans.
- For what? - the tramp was surprised. - I'm rich now! I will buy Madeleine from the brothel and marry her!
“In that case, if after a while it occurs to you to return to your idea of night swimming, we ask you not to blame us for it,” said the shorter one. - Let's go, Porthos. This man chose his own destiny. We need to hurry to the Change Bridge.

Approaching the Bridge of the Changers, our friends, Athos and Porthos, whom our readers probably already recognized, indeed, soon heard the cries of two women calling to save them from street robbers.
Snatching their swords, the friends rushed to help the unfortunate people. The three robbers were also armed. They tried to resist, as a result of which a battle ensued, in which Porthos quickly pierced one of the villains, and Athos, the other.
- Give up! - Porthos exclaimed to the third.
- Be careful, Porthos, don’t pierce him! - Athos recalled.
- I give up, I give up! Just don't kill! - the robber shouted, seeing that his two accomplices would never be able to engage in their vile trade again.
- Do not feel sorry for this scoundrel, gentlemen! - one of the women exclaimed. - These three are vile killers! They killed my sister and mother!
“There is so much blood on them that no river can wash them away,” said the second one. “I hope these two never kill anyone again.”
“Sir, you deserve a cruel punishment,” Athos said to the surviving scoundrel. “You should be killed, like these two scoundrels, but your fate will be a little easier.” Knit him, Porthos.
- Ah, gentlemen! - exclaimed the first woman. - How can I thank you?
“Madams, don’t walk in such places again at such a late time, that’s all we want from you,” said Athos.
“I hope that among them is not the same Madeleine that this poor fellow spoke about at the Pont-Neuf post,” Porthos grumbled.

CXLIII . Duke's carriage 

D'Artagnan and Aramis led a man in a gray rag mask out of the Louvre and led him into a large carriage with the coat of arms of the Duke d'Alamede. The captain once again unfolded the King’s order, written by Louis in his own hand.
“That’s right,” he said.
“We’re going to the Bastille,” Aramis said to the coachman, and the carriage rushed along the cobblestone street in the direction indicated by the Duke.
Having passed two streets, the carriage stopped next to another similar carriage.
“I beg you to leave, monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan. - We will change the carriage.
Philip obeyed and got out of the carriage. Entering another carriage, he saw that three masked people were sitting in it.
- Who you are? - he asked.
“Don’t be afraid, monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan. “Two of these people are our friends, and we are taking the third.”
After this, Aramis and d'Artagnan took the arms of the man in the gray mask sitting between two others, and led him out of the carriage, and asked Philip to sit in his place.
-Who are you and what do you want from me? - asked Philip.
“I am the Count de La F;re,” said one of them, taking off his mask.
“And I am Baron du Valon de Pierrefonds de Brassier,” said the second.
-Where are you taking me? - asked Philip.
“Monsignor, you and I will leave France, we will go to a beautiful place in Scotland called Montville,” said Athos. - There you can lead a calm, happy, and joyful life. You will not be a prisoner of the Bastille, because we have decided so. We believe that a prison, any prison, is no place for a prince, the son of King Louis XIII and grandson of Henry IV . Such a fate insults the entire royal dynasty.
- And who is this other person who sat here before me? - asked Philip.
“This is a robber who robbed and killed defenseless women near the Money Changers Bridge,” said Porthos. “He should have been killed for his atrocities, but we decided that he could sit in the fortress instead of you.”
“Our friends will take him to the fortress of Pignerol, monsignor,” said Athos. - Unless, of course, you object to this plan.
“Plans have changed, we will take him closer to the Bastille,” said d’Artagnan, looking into the carriage. “From now on, this scoundrel’s name is Estache Doge.” Well, monsignor, have you changed your mind? Where do you prefer to head? To the Bastille or to Monqueville?
- To Monqueville, of course! - Philip answered.
- Well, that suits us! - answered d'Artagnan. - Meet me at Planchet!
After this, Athos ordered the driver of the second carriage to go to Planchet’s establishment.
“Aramis, go to Colbert and please him that he is not resigning,” said d’Artagnan. “I can handle this scoundrel myself.”
- Shouldn't you take at least a couple of musketeers? - asked Aramis.
“Oh, don’t worry, my sword is enough to prevent this scoundrel from escaping from me,” answered the captain. - Go, Aramis, and try to make peace with Colbert! You will need this!
- Definitely! - Aramis exclaimed and waved his hand to d'Artagnan.

CXLIV. Planchet

D'Artagnan took the criminal, captured the day before by Athos and Porthos, to the Bastille and handed him over to the care of de Bezmo. The scoundrel did not resist, because he was threatened that if he showed at least some resistance, he would be brought to trial for the atrocities committed and then he could not avoid hanging. The order signed by the King, which d'Artagnan conveyed to de Bezmeaux, stated that the prisoner Eustache Dauger should remain in solitary confinement in the largest cell of the Bastille, and he would be given the highest level of allowance.
- This is like a new Marchiali! - Bezmo exclaimed.
“You have no idea how right you are, Mister Marquis,” agreed the captain. - You know, no one should be allowed to see this prisoner in any way, except by personal order of the King, here is a note to that effect.

Having gotten rid of the robber, d'Artagnan got into the carriage and headed to Planchet.
- My dear Planchet! - said d'Artagnan, entering his establishment. - I have a request.
- Whatever you order, Monsieur d'Artagnan! - answered the good man Planchet.
“In connection with the upcoming military campaign, I ask you to preserve my will, a copy of which is kept in Blois by Master Duvalier.”
- Why such gloomy forecasts, Monsieur d'Artagnan? - asked Planchet.
“Anything can happen in military service,” answered the captain. - Previously, I had nothing to bequeath, and no one. Now the situation has changed. You see, my friend, fate is changeable. My dear friends, Baron du Valon and Comte de La F;re, although they, as you yourself saw, are alive, but, according to documents drawn up in accordance with all the rules of the law, they seem to have died.
“That’s why I treated them to Burgundy yesterday!” - Planchet replied. “And Mister Baron crushed the ham so well that not everyone alive can compare with him in this.”
“Yes, that’s true,” answered d’Artagnan. - So, both of my friends left all their property to Raul.
- So Mr. Raoul is rich now! - exclaimed Planchet. - Mister Baron had a very large estate!
“Exactly so, dear Planchet,” confirmed d’Artagnan. - But according to the documents, it turns out that he also died, and, according to his will, he left all his property to me. It would be necessary to turn all this into money and return it to the dead, but there was no time to do this.
“Such things are not done quickly,” agreed Planchet.
“Well, as you see, Planchet, I suddenly found myself the owner of huge capital by my standards, but it’s all in real estate,” the captain continued. - Meanwhile, I am a military man. I can appear before the Creator at any moment. And what will happen to the estates of my friends?
- Do you, Mr. Captain, have any relatives? - asked Planchet.
“You know, Planchet, Francois turned out to be my nephew!” - answered d'Artagnan. - This is reliable, you can rest assured.
— Is Francois your nephew? - Planchet was surprised. - Who would have thought! That's why he looks so much like you!
- You know that he is my fellow countryman, right? - asked the captain. “We talked about the places where we both grew up, mentioned mutual friends, and then it turned out that he was my nephew. On the maternal side.
— Did you have a sister? - asked Planchet.
“You could say that,” d’Artagnan shrugged. “Although I would rather call her cousin.” Well, you understand, my friend, we were not so close, I mean related, that this would prevent us from becoming closer than brother and sister can afford.
- So Francois is your closest relative, if you have no closer relatives? - asked Planchet.
“You know, Planchet, I’ve never been seriously married!” - continued d'Artagnan. - In the sense that he never had a wife. At least my own. Not my God. That’s why I don’t have, I would say, legitimate children. But there is a legitimate nephew, so to speak. That is absolutely my nephew. In other words, I want to bequeath everything to Fran;ois, except for the part that I bequeath to you, my friend Planchet.
“Did you remember me too, Monsieur d’Artagnan?” - exclaimed Planchet.
- But of course! - the captain smiled. “Neither you, nor Bazin, nor Grimaud are left out in the will. Unfortunately, poor Muston has already passed on to another world, otherwise he would not have been forgotten. So, the will is kept, as I already said, by Master Duvalier, and in this envelope there is a certified copy of it. You will give it to Francois when I... When I... In a word, when it is necessary. And I would really like him to inherit my family name. It says so there. Do you think Fran;ois d'Artagnan sounds good?
“The name d’Artagnan sounds great in any combination, Mister Captain!” - exclaimed Planchet.
“Today, my friend Planchet, we will all have dinner with you,” said the flattered d’Artagnan. - Just like the good old days. And the deceased Athos and Porthos, and the now living Aramis, as well as the monsignor, who once already dined and spent the night with you.
- You are welcome, Mr. Captain. Receiving your friends Mr. Count, Mr. Baron and Mr. Duke is always a great pleasure and great joy for me.
- And the monsignor too, Planchet! - added d'Artagnan. - But keep quiet about this!
- You know me! Planchet smiled. — When it comes to trade secrets, I am as dumb as the grave.
- Exactly about the commercial one, Planchet! - D'Artagnan winked.

CXLV. Friends dinner

In the evening everyone gathered at Planchet's establishment in a separate room.
“Monseigneur,” d’Artagnan turned to Philip. “Don’t judge us harshly for the choices we had to make.” We did not act, of course, as you would have liked, and, most likely, to the detriment of all of us, but this decision will benefit France.
“You didn’t see the King in me, or do you think I’m unworthy?” - asked Philip.
“You are worthy to take the place of the king of France, monsignor,” said Athos, “but there is a more worthy contender, and fate itself has already chosen him once.”
“We, like you, do not like Monsieur Colbert, monsignor,” added Aramis, “but this man has proven in practice that France needs him.” However I may feel about M. Fouquet, I must admit that his interests centered mainly around luxury for his family and for his so-called friends, while Colbert's interests coincide exactly with the interests of France as a state in need of strengthening its economic condition and political power, that is, its finances, its army and its navy.
“You yourself told me, Monsieur d’Herblay, that I should remove Colbert and leave Monsieur Fouquet alone!” — Philip was surprised.
“I told this to a man who has no opinion on how France should be governed,” Aramis replied. “I was blinded, I wanted to rule France on my own, using you as a means.” D'Artagnan showed me in practice that this path is not suitable. The King of France cannot remain someone's puppet. A real King should sit on the throne of France. You tried to become one, but you are not very good at it.
- But no one noticed the substitution! - Philip exclaimed.
“No one in your immediate circle probably noticed,” Aramis agreed. “But this is only due to the fact that you left Colbert in his position.” This man managed to prove that he is not only an ardent enemy of Fouquet, but, above all, he is an ardent friend of France. With all his methods, this vile espionage, intrigue, fight against competitors, and so on, which I happened to learn about, I cannot help but admire the activity and purposefulness of his nature. Compared to him, Fouquet is just an arrogant peacock who boasts that he has the good fortune to manage the royal treasury. Recognizing his scrupulousness and decency in some matters, I cannot help but admit that he has many shortcomings, and besides, this decency of his in some cases becomes nothing more than stupidity.
“So, it was my mistake to fire Colbert?” - asked Philip.
“This is only a small part of what we have observed and a tiny part of what we can foresee in the future,” said Athos.
- So, gentlemen, have you decided that the four of you can decide the fate of France and choose a King for it at your own discretion? - Philip said defiantly.
“Not so, monseigneur,” objected d’Artagnan. “We are convinced that the four of us cannot decide the fate of France and choose a King for it at our own discretion, since Fate has already decided this issue itself. We recognized our actions as insolence and rejected the result to which they led.
“Why didn’t you put me in the Bastille, as your King, Louis, ordered you?” - asked Philip.
“Because your father’s legitimate son should not stay where your brother sent you, monsignor,” answered Athos. “There are orders that should not be carried out, even if you could pay for it with your life.” D'Artagnan did not dare to put your brother in a casemate, preferring to leave him in the abbey, which became a fatal misfortune for you, but he did not dare to put you in a casemate either, which will be some consolation for you.
- So, will you take me to the abbey? To a monastery? - asked Philip.
“No, monseigneur,” answered d’Artagnan. - I invite you and my friends to be my guests in Scotland, where I have a wonderful house near the river and mountains. Monsieur Comte de La F;re had already been there and liked it there.
- We will be able to walk in the mountains, hunt, and do other things as free people. Your life will not be limited to one or two rooms and several dozen books. You will live the life of a free man,” said Athos. “But for the good of France, you will not lay claim to the French throne, as that would cause civil war, and we will not allow that.”
“You want to isolate me from life,” Philip said sadly.
“Only from political life,” answered d’Artagnan. — However, if politics still interests you, you can receive information about all events in the world. But you will not influence them.
“I tried to get involved in politics, and I didn’t like it,” Philip answered. “Apparently this is the reason why you chose to return my brother to the French throne.”
“Monsignor,” said Porthos, “is it worth doing what you don’t have a soul for?” Isn't it better to live the life that you like more and, therefore, gives you more pleasure?
“I had a palace, I had a luxurious life, I had women,” Philip said sadly.
“Well, we don’t promise you a palace and a luxurious life,” said d’Artagnan, “but you won’t have to lead the life of a hermit and recluse.”
“And you four will remain my jailers for life?” - asked Philip.
“Perhaps not all four, perhaps not always the same, and perhaps not for life,” answered d’Artagnan.
- So you allow my return to the throne of France? - Philip asked almost completely indifferently.
“We promise nothing and do not exclude anything, monsignor,” Athos replied. - Life is such an unpredictable thing!
- I understand! - Philip exclaimed. - Do you want me to be your guarantee? Just in case?
“We want you to be a guarantee of France, monsignor,” answered Athos. “Therefore, we see nothing wrong with you reading books on the history of France and the history of Europe, studying Spanish and following news from around the world.

CXLVI. Death of d'Artagnan

Colbert's prediction came true: in the spring, war broke out with Holland.
D'Artagnan performed the functions of a marshal without formally receiving this title, which both Kings so often promised him for his services, which were by no means military. It was proposals like these that most depressed our hero. He would be glad to receive this title for successful military operations under his leadership and for personal military qualities such as courage, valor, heroism. He was offered this title for the vile murder of friends or for performing the functions of a jailer. As a result, the title of Marshal of France acquired a negative connotation for him. Thus, he set out at the head of a corps of twelve thousand cavalry and infantry, remaining captain of the royal musketeers. He received orders to capture one fortress after another, and carried out these orders, trying to save people and ammunition within the limits of the opportunity that is given to the commander-in-chief in such circumstances, that is, having almost no such opportunity.
In a month, d'Artagnan's corps took twelve fortresses, if not exclusively due to his military talent and personal valor, then, in any case, in large part due to these qualities of his.
Meanwhile, Louis XIV , who returned Louise de La Valli;re from the monastery, divided his attention between her, his legal wife Maria Theresa, and the rising star of the court, Madame de Montespan. The favorites competed with each other in everything, even in coming up with nicknames for the Sun King. If Louise began to call him Louis the Victorious, then gentlemen Montespan called him Louis the Invincible, which served as her next victory over her rival, putting her in first place and relegating Louise to the background. Thus, the predictions of the Duchess de Chevreuse began to come true that the King is just a man, so Louise can, of course, lay claim to the role of the King's first favorite, but in no way can she hope to be his last favorite at the same time. Satisfied Louis completely forgave d'Artagnan for all the humiliations that he had to endure, which was greatly facilitated by the choice that d'Artagnan and Aramis ultimately made on that significant day for all of France, which no one in France suspected. The Duchess de Chevreuse was also favored by the King and received additional privileges in addition to the privilege received from Anna of Austria to live in the right wing of the Louvre, occupying, together with her servants, ten of the best rooms.
One fine day, the King decided to fulfill the promise that he had so often given to d'Artagnan and had not yet fulfilled.
The king, at his next meeting with Colbert, told him:
“Mr. Colbert, the promise given to M. d’Artagnan should long ago be fulfilled, because he strictly fulfills my orders and his promises.”
“I have long ago ordered that a marshal’s baton and a box for him be prepared for M. d’Artagnan,” answered Colbert. — The patent for the title of Marshal of France has also been prepared for a long time, it is enough just to put Your Majesty’s signature on it. However, every such action requires a proper occasion and a suitable time.
— Do you think that the capture of twelve enemy fortresses is not a sufficient reason for this? - asked the King.
“Now time is lost; the last fortress was taken more than a week ago,” said Colbert. “If we sign the patent now, Monsieur d’Artagnan may reproach us for being slow.” Or he will decide that you, Your Majesty, have long doubted whether to give him this title or not. It would be much better to present him with this award on the day of the capture of the thirteenth fortress. This will appear as an award that is given immediately upon the fulfillment of the relevant conditions by that applicant. Or you can give it as an advance for the capture of the thirteenth fortress.
“Perhaps you are right, Monsieur Colbert, but this looks like something petty,” said Louis with a sour expression. - One fortress more, one fortress less. Why pull?
“I understand you, Your Majesty,” Colbert answered with a bow. - I will immediately bring the patent to you for signature.
“Okay,” the King nodded, but feeling that the victory over Colbert was too easy for him, and fearing that this might offend his minister, he reluctantly added. - However, perhaps you are right. Let this patent be yours, and you hand it over to Monsieur d'Artagnan when you see fit.
Thus, in this small competition, Colbert remained the winner, and the loser, as usual, was Justice.
Meanwhile, d'Artagnan was preparing an assault on the thirteenth fortress. For greater success, he ordered to fill up a hill at night with a gentle slope on the side of the French army and with a sharp cliff on the side of the Dutch army. He ordered four cannons to be rolled out onto this artificial hill, protecting the gunners with bags of earth, which formed something like a fortress wall. Under his command, the cannons continuously fired at the fortress. Thanks to their elevated position, they allowed better aim; the cannonballs flew over the fortress wall and caused serious damage to the enemy. D'Artagnan personally led the gunners, and his figure in a hat with a white feather was clearly visible to both the French and Dutch soldiers.
The Dutch, irritated by this unexpected misfortune, concentrated the fire of the fortress cannons on this man-made embankment, hoping to eliminate all four French cannons. When the cannonballs began to arrive one after another, d'Artagnan said to his gunners:
- Take care of yourselves, gentlemen, move to a safe distance. At night we will further strengthen our firing point, replenish our supplies of gunpowder and cannonballs, and tomorrow the fortress will be ours.
- What about you, Monsieur d'Artagnan? - asked the faithful d'Arlencourt.
“I’ll also come down to you in a minute,” answered the captain. “I’ll just take a final look at the destruction we caused to them.”
After these words, d'Artagnan took a telescope and, under the cover of one of the cannons, began to carefully study the cracks in the enemy's fortress wall. At that moment, a cannonball flew from the direction of the fortress, which struck directly at the cannon behind which d'Artagnan stood. The cannon, rolling away, hit the captain in the chest, on which, despite the shell that covered it, a bloody stain immediately appeared. At the same time, another cannonball tore out a huge piece of earth from the embankment, which almost covered d'Artagnan, who had fallen from the first blow.
- Captain d'Artagnan is wounded! - cried d'Arlencourt and rushed to the rescue of his captain.
- This is the finger of God! - said d'Artagnan, breathless.
- Shut up, captain, shut up! - exclaimed d'Arlencourt. “We will take you beyond the range of enemy guns.” The doctor will see you soon.
D'Arlencourt motioned to two soldiers to pick up D'Artagnan and carry him to the doctor's tent.
- What's happened? - asked one of the gunners. — Our commander-in-chief has been killed?
“We all walk under God,” answered d’Arlencourt, “I hope he is only wounded.”
Military doctor Stephane Duval examined d'Artagnan and said sadly:
“You have at least three broken ribs, Monsieur d'Artagnan.”
- What else? - asked the captain, breathing heavily.
-Can you take a deep breath? - asked the doctor. -Where do you feel pain?
“Right here,” answered d’Artagnan, pointing to his chest.
“Perhaps I will be able to save your life,” said the doctor, “but not under these conditions.”
- Monsieur d'Artagnan! - exclaimed d'Arlencourt, looking into the tent. - An urgent message has arrived for you!
“Read, d’Arlencourt,” said d’Artagnan, swallowing air with difficulty.
“Monsieur Captain, this letter is from Monsieur Colbert,” said d’Arlencourt.
He broke the seal on the letter and read the following words:

"Monsieur d'Artagnan! The King instructs me to inform you that, in consideration of your excellent service and the honor you bring to his army, he appoints you Marshal of France. His Majesty is delighted with the victories you have won and looks forward to further victories of the corps under your leadership. I am also sending you a box with a marshal's baton and a patent signed by His Majesty.
Signed: J.-B. Colbert."

“D’Arlencourt,” said d’Artagnan, straining all his strength, “I instruct you to restore the embankment tonight and replace the broken cannon with a serviceable one.” Place three more cannons there. Tomorrow at dawn you will make artillery preparation. Hit with all your guns under the twelfth tooth, if you count from the right. There's a good crack there. Five accurate hits will bring down this wall. Immediately after the collapse, give the signal for the assault. By lunchtime the fortress will be ours.
“Captain, you can’t talk,” said the doctor.
“Mr. Duval, thank you, I have already said everything,” answered d’Artagnan and closed his eyes.
- Will he live? asked d'Arlencourt.
“I won’t return it to you for tomorrow’s attack, but we’ll see,” Duval replied. “You have to act as if you don’t have it.”
“Yes, d’Arlencourt,” said d’Artagnan, opening his eyes. - Tomorrow you will be me. Take this letter and this box. I won't need them anymore.
- What's wrong with the captain? - one of the officers asked d'Arlencourt. - Is he alive? Will he live?
“I don’t know,” answered d’Arlencourt. - They brought him a patent for the title of Marshal of France and a marshal's baton, but. I don't think it made any impression on him.
- Is he really that bad? - the officer asked concerned. “Did he even understand what was being said?”
“He gave me the last instructions regarding tomorrow’s battle and tonight’s preparations for it,” answered d’Arlencourt. - Tomorrow I will be your commander.
The night's actions and the morning attack were carried out in full accordance with d'Artagnan's instructions and led to the results he predicted. The fortress wall under the twelfth tooth collapsed, the infantry rushed into the breach and the fortress was taken.
At three o'clock in the afternoon d'Arlencourt found the doctor.
-Where is our captain? asked d'Arlencourt.
“He is no longer here,” replied Dr. Duval, meaning that he had ordered d’Artagnan to be transported far to the rear, since he required long-term treatment. - I ordered...
“No need,” d’Arlencourt interrupted him. - Just tell me, what were his last words?
- Last words? - Dr. Duval was surprised. - Let me go! He said the following: “Athos, Porthos, see you soon. Aramis, goodbye forever!
- What does this mean? asked d'Arlencourt.
“I can’t explain that to you,” Dr. Duval replied. - Sorry, I'm hurrying to the other wounded.
“Doctor Duval,” a gray-haired man turned to the doctor, who had approached them a few minutes earlier and heard their entire conversation. “I am Count Rochefort, friend of Captain d'Artagnan. This is true? The captain was hit by a cannonball?
- You heard! - answered the doctor. - Sorry, I'm in a hurry.
- What fate! - Rochefort said thoughtfully. “He got exactly the death he talked about two months before!” And his last words were about his friends! What a pity that I was not one of them for so long!

D'Artagnan lost a lot of blood and almost lost his strength. Despite the fact that Dr. Duval treated his wounds, the wounded man's condition was on the verge between life and death. Realizing the value of the commander-in-chief, Dr. Duval ordered him to be sent to France on a ship that was leaving there in the very near future. He also ordered the sister of mercy, Mademoiselle Campredon, to accompany the captain.
So, in an unconscious state, d'Artagnan departed for the shores of France, leaving his marshal's baton and the patent of the marshal of France in the hands of senior lieutenant d'Arlencourt.

On the evening of the same day, Mr. Colbert arrived among the troops.
- I wish to see Monsieur d'Artagnan! - he said.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan is not here,” answered d’Arlencourt. “He was hit by a cannonball during yesterday’s battle.”
- He died? Colbert asked.
“They took him on a ship, the doctor said he was very ill,” answered d’Arlencourt. — The doctor’s last words were that Captain d’Artagnan was no more.
- Why do you call him captain? - Colbert was surprised. “Didn’t he receive a patent from the Marshal of France?”
“He did not have time to take up this position,” answered d’Arlencourt. - I return to you the letter, the patent and the box with the marshal's baton.
“Well...” said Colbert. - This is destiny! I will report to the King.

Epilogue

Some time later, after the events described in this novel, D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramis had a picnic in the middle of a forest clearing in Scotland, not far from the Monqueville estate, owned by D'Artagnan.
“My friends, this picnic reminds me of a couple of others,” said d’Artagnan.
- By my sword, I know what you're talking about! - exclaimed Porthos. – Firstly, is this dinner at the La Rochelle fortress? Those were great days!
“I agree,” Aramis smiled softly.
- For our youth, friends! Why are your cups empty? - Athos exclaimed, although his cup could hardly be called full, because he had hardly drunk in recent years.
- Well, what about the second one? – asked d'Artagnan.
“Of course, the one where we planned this glorious event,” said Aramis with the same soft smile.
- That's it, friends! How glad I am that we are together again, as then, and as, I hope, always! - exclaimed d'Artagnan, knocking over his goblet of excellent Anjou wine. – And do you know what came to my mind now?
“Apparently, we’ll find out now,” Athos grinned.
“And the fact that the four of us have been keeping our finger on the pulse of history for almost forty years now.”
- For goodness sake, d'Artagnan, are we really that old? – Aramis protested.
“I remember, Aramis, you are not good at mathematics,” d’Artagnan inserted the pin.
- Not strong, by God! – Aramis answered.
“But in architecture,” continued d’Artagnan.
- Let's not talk about this! So what did you say about the pulse of history?
— I claim that history is us, and we are history. We sometimes correct its course, that is, I say that we hold the reins of this restive horse in our hands.
“As always, I agree with you, d’Artagnan,” Aramis replied after he furtively felt a certain envelope on his chest and made sure that the letter was still where it was supposed to be.
- And no one can stop us! - continued d'Artagnan. “No one will dare cross our path.”
- Nobody! - Aramis confirmed, - But for God's sake, be quiet!
At this time, a dry branch cracked under the foot of Didier du Trabuson, who fled from the Ottoman Empire and swore an oath to kill Monsieur d'Artagnan and Monsieur d'Herblay.
“Can they really hear us here in the forest?” – d'Artagnan was surprised. “I heard that walls have ears, but there aren’t even walls here.” Only trees.
- Is it some kind of stupid wild animal? For example, a squirrel,” with these words Aramis phlegmatically shot into the bushes.
Aramis's bullet hit du Trabuson in the chest, he screamed and fell to the ground face-first into an anthill.
“I think I heard a scream?” – d'Artagnan was wary.
- Squirrel, sir! Squirrel,” Aramis objected.
- As for me, it was a whole boar! - Porthos exclaimed, - I think I’ll take a look.
- No need, Porthos. - Athos objected softly, - Aramis told you that it was a squirrel, therefore, it was a squirrel.
- Squirrel, or marten. I’m weak in biology, as well as in mathematics,” Aramis grinned.
“I hope there weren’t any other… squirrels with her,” Porthos grinned.
“We stayed too long,” Athos answered and silently indicated to Grimaud that he could tidy up his things.
“Mademoiselle Campredon has already been waiting for our marshal,” Porthos smiled.
“And Mrs. Thomson has been waiting for our baron,” d’Artagnan inserted a reply.
“Aunt Miss Grefton is very pretty,” Porthos smiled. “Besides, she finds me impressive.”
“I was not interested in how Mademoiselle Suzanne Campredon finds me,” answered d’Artagnan, “it is much more important to me that I find her charming.”
- My friends! - exclaimed Porthos. “It seems our friend intends to get married and make half a dozen little d’Artagnans!” After this we will have to move out of Montville.
“What do you have to fear, Porthos?” - asked d'Artagnan. - After all, Francois turned all your estates into money and transferred this money to your account! You are rich, my friend, and you can buy ten of these Monkvilles.
- This is true! - Porthos answered proudly. “But I haven’t decided yet where I would like to spend the rest of my days.” I haven't chosen a suitable lock yet. Here in Scotland all the estates are a bit too modest.
“My friends,” said Athos, “Aramis and I are happy for you.” You can enjoy a little family happiness.
- Listen, Athos! - said Aramis. - Have you really never met a woman in your entire life who could...
- Dear friend! - Athos interrupted him. — I asked myself this question, but I still cannot answer it. Sometimes it seems to me that... However, no, I’m already too old for family life.
- And you, Aramis? - asked d'Artagnan. — It seems you were going to become Pope?
“Not this year,” Aramis smiled. - And our young friend Philip, it seems, is not at all burdened by his lot?
“Wait, Aramis, don’t think so far ahead,” answered Athos. — Times change, and people change too.
“And we change too, Athos,” Aramis agreed.
- Damn it, if anything is constant in this ever-changing world? - asked Porthos.
“Yes,” answered d’Artagnan. - Our friendship. One for all!
- And all for one! - Athos, Porthos and Aramis exclaimed in one voice, after which all four laughed cheerfully, jumped on their horses and galloped off.

They galloped in the direction that I will tell my dear readers about in the follow-up book of my novel, because what you just finished reading was only the first book of my new novel, Two Years Later. The second book will appear if...

Author's afterword

When I already wrote this book, it seemed to me that it was no good. That's why I didn't send it to the publisher. First I have to show it to my little tormentor.
Will she say anything about this?
Whether the second book will appear now depends entirely on her.

Translator's afterword

Author of the book, V.A. Zhmud, stylized his work after Alexandre Dumas, just as many authors of the past passed off their works as genuine memoirs of other authors.
For example, Gasien de Courtille de Sandre wrote his books under the guise of memoirs of Count Rochefort, Captain d'Artagnan and other real historical figures. Alexandre Dumas himself presents his novel “The Princess of Monaco” to readers as the princess’s authentic diary. Daniel Defoe indicated in the title of the book, known to most readers as “Robinson Crusoe,” that this book was written by Robinson himself and recounts the true events that happened to him. The book makes no claims to historical accuracy. Thus, in particular, the excessive condescension of Alexandre Dumas towards certain historical figures, such as Superintendent Fouquet, to whom Dumas attributed extreme nobility, truly royal generosity and absolute innocence, is accompanied by an absolutely negative image, for example, of Jean Baptiste Colbert, who, Of course, he was not such a villain as the writer showed him. It should be noted that Dumas himself sometimes portrayed different historical figures in completely different ways in different books. So, if in the novel “The Three Musketeers” the image of Cardinal Richelieu is sharply negative, then in the novel “Twenty Years Later” the heroes remember him with warmth, and in the novel “The Red Sphinx” the image of this man is clearly positive. The same metamorphoses can be pointed out in relation to the figures of the French Revolution. The author of this novel, thus, tried rather to reveal the likely assessment of historical figures that the writer Alexandre Dumas could give, and not an impartial historian. The only purpose of this work is to provide readers with the opportunity to once again enjoy the nobility, loyalty and courage of the four heroes of the trilogy by Alexandre Dumas, and above all, the adventures of the main character of the trilogy - Captain d'Artagnan. You can leave your reviews about the novel and ratings of the work on the Proza.Ru website.
Especially if you want to read the second book in this duology.