“Ah! a walk with the King?”
“Yes, certainly, a walk with the King; and I believe the King has very frequently before taken walks with ladies, without on that account-”
“You would not have written to me, shall I say again, if there had been nothing unusual in this promenade?”
“I know that while the storm lasted, it would have been far better if the King had taken shelter somewhere else than to have remained with his head uncovered before La Valliere; but-”
“But?”
“The King is so courteous!”
“Oh, De Guiche, De Guiche, you are killing me!”
“Do not let us talk any more, then.”
“Nay; let us continue. This walk was followed by others, I suppose?”
“No- I mean yes; there was the adventure of the oak, I think. But I know nothing about the matter at all.” Raoul rose; De Guiche endeavored to imitate him, notwithstanding his weakness. “Well, I will not add another word; I have said either too much or not enough. Let others give you further information if they will, or if they can; my duty was to warn you, and that I have done. Watch over your own affairs now, yourself!”
“Question others? Alas! you are no true friend to speak to me in that manner,” said the young man, in utter distress. “The first man I shall question may be either evilly disposed or a fool,- if the former, he will tell me a lie to torment me; if the latter, he will do still worse. Ah! De Guiche, De Guiche, before two hours are over, I shall have been told ten falsehoods, and shall have as many duels on my hands. Save me, then! Is it not best to know one’s whole misfortune?”
“But I know nothing, I tell you. I was wounded, in a fever; my senses were gone, and I have only effaced impressions of it all. But there is no reason why we should search very far, when the very man we want is close at hand. Is not d’Artagnan your friend?”
“Oh, true, true!”
“Go to him, then. He will throw light on the subject and without seeking to injure your eyes.”
At this moment a lackey entered the room. “What is it?” said De Guiche.
“Some one is waiting for Monseigneur in the Cabinet des Porcelaines.”
“Very well. Will you excuse me, my dear Raoul? I am so proud since I have been able to walk again.”
“I would offer you my arm, De Guiche, if I did not guess that the person in question is a lady.”
“I believe so,” said De Guiche, smiling, as he quitted Raoul.
Raoul remained motionless, absorbed, overwhelmed, like the miner upon whom a vault has just fallen in: he is wounded, his life-blood is welling fast, his thoughts are confused; he endeavors to recover himself, and to save his life and his reason. A few minutes were all Raoul needed to dissipate the bewildering sensations which had been occasioned by these two revelations. He had already recovered the thread of his ideas, when suddenly through the door he fancied he recognized Montalais’s voice in the Cabinet des Porcelaines. “She!” he cried. “Yes; it is indeed her voice! Oh! here is a woman who can tell me the truth; but shall I question her here? She conceals herself even from me; she is coming, no doubt, from Madame. I will see her in her own apartment. She will explain her alarm, her flight, the strange manner in which I was driven out; she will tell me all that,- after M. d’Artagnan, who knows everything, shall have given me fresh strength and courage. Madame- a coquette, I fear, and yet a coquette who is herself in love- has her moments of kindness; a coquette who is as capricious and uncertain as life or death, but who causes De Guiche to say that he is the happiest of men. He at least is lying on roses.” And so he hastily quitted the count’s apartments; and reproaching himself as he went for having talked of nothing but his own affairs to De Guiche, he arrived at d’Artagnan’s quarters.
Chapter XII: Bragelonne Continues His Inquiries