“I know a means of making the order come down with its money, as I know a means of forcing the Queen-Mother to concede what I require.”
“In that case, Duchess, we are all obliged to strike our flags to you. The victory is yours, and the triumph also is yours. Be clement, I entreat you!”
“But is it possible,” resumed the duchess, without taking notice of the irony, “that you really draw back from a miserable sum of five hundred thousand livres when it is a question of sparing you- I mean your friend- I beg your pardon, I ought rather to say your protector- the disagreeable consequences which a party contest produces?”
“Duchess, I will tell you why. Supposing the five hundred thousand livres were to be given to you, M. de Laicques will require his share, which will be another five hundred thousand livres, I presume; and then, after M. de Laicques’s and your own portions, will come the portions for your children, your poor pensioners, and various other persons; and these letters, however compromising they may be, are not worth from three to four millions. Good heavens! Duchess, the Queen of France’s diamonds were surely worth more than these bits of waste paper signed by Mazarin; and yet their recovery did not cost a fourth part of what you ask for yourself.”
“Yes, that is true; but the merchant values his goods at his own price, and it is for the purchaser to buy or to refuse.”
“Stay a moment, Duchess; would you like me to tell you why I will not buy your letters?”
“Pray tell me.”
“Because the letters which you say are Mazarin’s are false.”
“Nonsense!”
“I have no doubt of it; for it would, to say the least, be very singular that after you had quarrelled with the Queen through M. Mazarin’s means, you should have kept up any intimate acquaintance with the latter; it would savor of passion, of treachery, of- Upon my word, I do not like to make use of the term.”
“Oh pray say it!”
“Of compliance.”
“That is quite true; but what is not less so is that which the letter contains.”
“I pledge you my word, Duchess, that you will not be able to make use of it with the Queen.”
“Oh, yes, indeed; I can make use of everything with the Queen.”
“Very good,” thought Aramis. “Croak on, old owl! hiss, viper that you are!”
But the duchess had said enough, and advanced a few steps towards the door. Aramis, however, had reserved a humiliation which she did not expect,- the imprecation of the vanquished behind the car of the conqueror. He rang the bell. Candles immediately appeared in the room; and the bishop found himself completely encircled by lights, which shone upon the worn, haggard face of the duchess. Aramis fixed a long and ironical look upon her pale and withered cheeks, upon her dim, dull eyes, and upon her lips, which she kept carefully closed over her blackened and scanty teeth. He, however, had thrown himself into a graceful attitude, with his haughty and intelligent head thrown back; he smiled so as to reveal his teeth, which were still brilliant and dazzling in the candle-light.
The old coquette understood the trick that had been played upon her. She was standing immediately before a large mirror, in which all her decrepitude, so carefully concealed, was only made more manifest by the contrast. Thereupon, without even saluting Aramis, who bowed with the ease and grace of the musketeer of early days, she hurried away with tottering steps, which her very haste only the more impeded. Aramis sprang across the room like a zephyr to lead her to the door. Madame de Chevreuse made a sign to her huge lackey, who resumed his musket; and she left the house where such tender friends had not been able to understand each other only because they had understood each other too well.
Chapter II: Wherein May Be Seen That a Bargain Which Cannot Be Made with One Person Can Be Carried Out with Another
ARAMIS had been perfectly correct in his supposition. Immediately on leaving the house in the Place Baudoyer, Madame de Chevreuse had proceeded homeward. She was doubtless afraid of being followed, and had sought in this way to cover her steps; but as soon as she had arrived within the door of the hotel, and assured herself that no one who could cause her any uneasiness was on her track, she opened the door of the garden leading into another street, and hurried towards the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, where M. Colbert resided.