“I? and to what end? Are you threatened? Only there really is an order with respect to carriages and boats-”
“‘An order’?”
“Yes; but it cannot concern you,- a simple measure of police.”
“What is it, Captain,- what is it?”
“To forbid all horses or boats to leave Nantes without a pass signed by the King.”
“Great God! but-”
D’Artagnan began to laugh. “All that is not to be put into execution before the arrival of the King at Nantes. So that you see plainly, Monseigneur, the order in no wise concerns you.”
Fouquet became thoughtful, and d’Artagnan feigned not to observe his preoccupation, and said, “It is evident from my thus confiding to you the orders which have been given to me that I am friendly towards you, and that I endeavor to prove to you that none of them are directed against you.”
“Without doubt! without doubt!” said Fouquet, still absent-minded.
“Let us recapitulate,” said the captain, his glance beaming with earnestness. “A special and severe guard of the castle, in which your lodging is to be, is it not? Do you know that castle? Ah, Monseigneur, a true prison! The total absence of M. de Gesvres, who has the honor of being one of your friends; the closing of the gates of the city, and of the river without a pass, but only when the King shall have arrived. Please to observe, M. Fouquet, that if, instead of speaking to a man like you, who are one of the first in the kingdom, I were speaking to a troubled, uneasy conscience, I should compromise myself forever! What a fine opportunity for any one who wished to be free! No police, no guards, no orders, the water free, the roads free, M. d’Artagnan obliged to lend his horses, if required! All this ought to reassure you, M. Fouquet, for the King would not have left me thus independent if he had had any evil designs. In truth, M. Fouquet, ask me whatever you like, I am at your service; and in return, if you will consent to it, render me a service,- that of offering my compliments to Aramis and Porthos, in case you embark for Belle-Isle, as you have a right to do, without changing your dress, immediately, in your robe de chambre,- just as you are.”
Having said these words, with a profound bow the musketeer, whose looks had lost none of their intelligent kindness, left the apartment. He had not reached the steps of the vestibule when Fouquet, quite beside himself, hung to the bell-rope, and shouted, “My horses! my lighter!” But nobody answered. The superintendent dressed himself with everything that came to hand.
“Gourville! Gourville!” cried he, while slipping his watch into his pocket; and the bell sounded again, while Fouquet repeated, “Gourville! Gourville!”
Gourville at length appeared, breathless and pale.
“Let us be gone! let us be gone!” cried the superintendent, as soon as he saw him.
“It is too late!” said the friend of poor Fouquet.
“Too late! why?”
“Listen!” And they heard the sounds of trumpets and drums in front of the castle.
“What does that mean, Gourville?”
“It is the King coming, Monseigneur.”
“The King!”
“The King, who has ridden double stages, who has killed horses, and who is eight hours in advance of your calculation.”
“We are lost!” murmured Fouquet. “Brave d’Artagnan, all is over; thou hast spoken to me too late!”
The King, in fact, was entering the city, which soon resounded with the cannon from the ramparts, and from a vessel which replied from the lower parts of the river. Fouquet’s brow darkened; he called his valets de chambre, and dressed in ceremonial costume. From his window, behind the curtains, he could see the eagerness of the people and the movement of a large troop, which had followed the Prince. The King was conducted to the castle with great pomp, and Fouquet saw him dismount under the portcullis, and speak something in the ear of d’Artagnan, who held his stirrup. D’Artagnan, when the King had passed under the arch, directed his steps towards the house Fouquet was in; but so slowly, and stopping so frequently to speak to his Musketeers, drawn up as a hedge, that it might be said he was counting the seconds or the steps before accomplishing his message. Fouquet opened the window to speak to him in the court.