involuntarily, he darted a glance at the minister which
would have terrified him, if Mazarin, at the moment, had not
concealed his head under his pillow.
“Monsieur,” said the young Duc d’Anjou, placing his hand,
delicate and white as that of a woman, upon the arm of
Athos, “tell that brave man, I beg you, that Monsieur,
brother of the king, will to-morrow drink his health before
five hundred of the best gentlemen of France.” And, on
finishing these words, the young man, perceiving that his
enthusiasm had deranged one of his ruffles, set to work to
put it to rights with the greatest care imaginable.
“Let us resume business, sire,” interrupted Mazarin who
never was enthusiastic, and who wore no ruffles.
“Yes, monsieur,” replied Louis XIV. “Pursue your
communication, monsieur le comte,” added he, turning towards
Athos.
Athos immediately began and offered in due form the hand of
the Princess Henrietta Stuart to the young prince, the
king’s brother. The conference lasted an hour; after which
the doors of the chamber were thrown open to the courtiers,
who resumed their places as if nothing had been kept from
them in the occupations of that evening. Athos then found
himself again with Raoul, and the father and son were able
to clasp each other’s hands.
CHAPTER 42
In which Mazarin becomes Prodigal
Whilst Mazarin was endeavoring to recover from the serious
alarm he had just experienced, Athos and Raoul were
exchanging a few words in a corner of the apartment. “Well,
here you are at Paris, then, Raoul?” said the comte.
“Yes, monsieur, since the return of M. le Prince.”
“I cannot converse freely with you here, because we are
observed; but I shall return home presently, and shall
expect you as soon as your duty permits.”
Raoul bowed, and, at that moment, M. le Prince came up to
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them. The prince had that clear and keen look which
distinguishes birds of prey of the noble species; his
physiognomy itself presented several distinct traits of this
resemblance. It is known that in the Prince de Conde, the
aquiline nose rose out sharply and incisively from a brow
slightly retreating, rather low than high, and according to
the railers of the court, — a pitiless race even for
genius, — constituted rather an eagle’s beak than a human
nose, in the heir of the illustrious princes of the house of
Conde. This penetrating look, this imperious expression of
the whole countenance generally disturbed those to whom the
prince spoke, more than either majesty or regular beauty
could have done in the conqueror of Rocroy. Besides this,
the fire mounted so suddenly to his projecting eyes, that
with the prince every sort of animation resembled passion.
Now, on account of his rank, everybody at the court
respected M. le Prince, and many even, seeing only the man,
carried their respect as far as terror.
Louis de Conde then advanced towards the Comte de la Fere
and Raoul, with the marked intention of being saluted by the
one, and of speaking to the other. No man bowed with more
reserved grace than the Comte de la Fere. He disdained to
put into a salutation all the shades which a courtier
ordinarily borrows from the same color — the desire to
please. Athos knew his own personal value, and bowed to the
prince like a man, correcting by something sympathetic and
undefinable that which might have appeared offensive to the
pride of the highest rank in the inflexibility of his
attitude. The prince was about to speak to Raoul. Athos
forestalled him. “If M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne,” said he,
“were not one of the humble servants of your royal highness,
I would beg him to pronounce my name before you — mon
prince.”
“I have the honor to address Monsieur le Comte de la Fere,”
said Conde instantly.
“My protector,” added Raoul, blushing.
“One of the most honorable men in the kingdom,” continued
the prince; “one of the first gentlemen of France, and of
whom I have heard so much that I have frequently desired to
number him among my friends.”
“An honour of which I should be unworthy,” replied Athos,