“Nothing at all, Sire.”
“Surely he did not allow himself to be arrested without saying something?”
“He said he expected to be arrested, Sire.”
The King raised his head haughtily. “I presume,” he said, “that M. le Comte de la Fere has not continued to play his obstinate and rebellious part?”
“In the first place, Sire, what do you term rebellious?” quietly asked the musketeer. “Is that man a rebel, in the eyes of the King, who not only allows himself to be shut up in the Bastille, but who even opposes those who do not wish to take him there?”
“Who do not wish to take him there!” exclaimed the King. “What do you say, Captain? Are you mad?”
“I believe not, Sire.”
“You speak of persons who did not wish to arrest M. de la Fere?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“And who are they?”
“Those whom your Majesty intrusted with that duty, apparently.”
“But it is you whom I intrusted with it,” exclaimed the King.
“Yes, Sire; it is I.”
“And you say that, despite my orders, you had the intention of not arresting the man who had insulted me!”
“Yes, Sire, that was really my intention. I even proposed to the count to mount a horse that I had had prepared for him at the Barriere de la Conference.”
“And what was your object in getting this horse ready?”
“Why, Sire, in order that M. le Comte de la Fere might be able to reach Havre, and from that place make his escape to England.”
“You betrayed me then, Monsieur?” cried the King, kindling with a wild pride.
“Exactly so.”
There was nothing to say in answer to statements made in such a tone; the King was astounded at such an obstinate and open resistance on the part of d’Artagnan. “At least you had a reason, M. d’Artagnan, for acting as you did?” said the King, proudly.
“I have always a reason, Sire.”
“Your reason cannot be your friendship for the count, at all events,- the only one that can be of any avail, the only one that could possibly excuse you,- for I placed you entirely at your ease in that respect.”
“Me, Sire?”
“Did I not give you the choice to arrest or not to arrest M. le Comte de la Fere?”
“Yes, Sire; but-”
“But what?” exclaimed the King, impatiently.
“But you warned me, Sire, that if I did not arrest him, your captain of the Guards should do so.”
“Was I not considerate enough towards you when I did not compel you to obey me?”
“To me, Sire, you were, but not to my friend; for my friend would be arrested all the same, whether by myself or by the captain of the Guards.”
“And this is your devotion, Monsieur,- a devotion which argues and reasons! You are no soldier, Monsieur!”
“I wait for your Majesty to tell me what I am.”
“Well, then,- you are a Frondeur.”
“And since there is no longer any Fronde, Sire, in that case-”
“But if what you say is true-”
“What I say is always true, Sire.”
“What have you come to say to me, Monsieur?”
“I have come to say to your Majesty: Sire, M. de la Fere is in the Bastille.”
“That is not your fault, it would seem.”
“That is true, Sire. But, at all events, he is there; and since he is there, it is important that your Majesty should know it.”
“Ah, M. d’Artagnan, so you set your King at defiance!”
“Sire-”
“M. d’Artagnan, I warn you that you are abusing my patience.”
“On the contrary, Sire.”
“What do you mean by ‘on the contrary’?”
“I have come to get myself arrested too.”
“To get yourself arrested,- you!”
“Of course. My friend will be lonely down there; and I have come to propose to your Majesty to permit me to bear him company. If your Majesty will but give the word, I will arrest myself; I shall not need the captain of the Guards for that, I assure you.”
The King darted towards the table and seized a pen to write the order for d’Artagnan’s imprisonment. “Pay attention, Monsieur, that this is forever!” cried the King, in a tone of stern menace.