“Such has been my own thought. I came to Fontainebleau, then, with a double object in view. In the first place, I was summoned there by the Franciscan whom you knew. By the by, how did you know him?- for I have told you my story, and have not yet heard yours.”
“I knew him in a very natural way, Duchess. I studied theology with him at Parma; we became fast friends, but it happened, from time to time, that business or travels or war separated us from each other.”
“You were, of course, aware that he was the general of the Jesuits?”
“I suspected it.”
“But by what extraordinary chance did you come to the hotel where the affiliated travellers had met together?”
“Oh,” said Aramis, in a calm voice, “it was the merest chance in the world! I was going to Fontainebleau to see M. Fouquet, for the purpose of obtaining an audience of the King. I was passing by, unknown; I saw the poor dying monk in the road, and recognized him. You know the rest,- he died in my arms.”
“Yes, but bequeathing to you so vast a power in Heaven and on earth that you issue sovereign orders in his name.”
“He did leave me a few commissions to settle.”
“And for me?”
“I have told you,- a sum of twelve thousand livres was to be paid to you. I thought I had given you the necessary signature to enable you to receive it. Did you not get the money?”
“Oh, yes, yes! My dear prelate, you give your orders, I am informed, with so much mystery and such august majesty that it is generally believed you are the successor of the beloved dead.”
Aramis colored impatiently, and the duchess continued. “I have obtained information,” she said, “from the King of Spain himself; and he dispelled my doubts on the point. Every general of the Jesuits is nominated by him, and must be a Spaniard, according to the statutes of the order. You are not a Spaniard, nor have you been nominated by the King of Spain.”
Aramis did not reply to this remark, except to say, “You see, Duchess, how greatly you were mistaken, since the King of Spain told you that.”
“Yes, my dear Aramis; but there was something else of which I have been thinking.”
“What is that?”
“You know that I do a great deal of desultory thinking, and it occurred to me that you know the Spanish language.”
“Every Frenchman who has been actively engaged in the Fronde knows Spanish.”
“You have lived in Flanders?”
“Three years.”
“And have stayed at Madrid?”
“Fifteen months.”
“You are in a position, then, to become a naturalized Spaniard when you like.”
“Really?” said Aramis, with a frankness which deceived the duchess.
“Undoubtedly. Two years’ residence and an acquaintance with the language are indispensable. You have had three years and a half,- fifteen months more than is necessary.”
“What are you driving at, my dear lady?”
“At this,- I am on good terms with the King of Spain.”
“And I am not on bad terms,” thought Aramis to himself.
“Do you wish me to ask the King,” continued the duchess, “to confer the succession to the Franciscan’s office upon you?”
“Oh, Duchess!”
“You have it already, perhaps?” she said.
“No, upon my honor.”
“Very well, then, I can render you that service.”
“Why did you not render the same service to M. de Laicques, Duchess? He is a very talented man, and one whom you love.”
“Yes, no doubt; but that is not to be considered. At all events, putting Laicques aside, answer me, will you have it?”
“No, I thank you, Duchess.”
She paused. “He is nominated,” she thought; and then resumed aloud, “If you refuse me in this manner, it is not very encouraging for me to ask anything of you.”
“Oh, ask, pray ask!”
“Ask! I cannot do so if you have not the power to grant what I want.”
“However limited my power and ability, ask all the same.”
“I need a sum of money to restore Dampierre.”
“Ah!” replied Aramis, coldly, “money? Well, Duchess, how much would you require?”
“Oh, a tolerably round sum!”