I should have passed by your door as by that of a stranger.”
“It is but too true,” said Athos, replying with his voice to
the first part of the king’s speech, and with a bow to the
second; “it is but too true, indeed, that your majesty has
seen many evil days.”
“And the worst, alas!” replied Charles, “are perhaps still
to come.”
“Sire, let us hope.”
“Count, count,” continued Charles, shaking his head, “I
entertained hope till last night, and that of a good
Christian, I swear.”
Athos looked at the king as if to interrogate him.
“Oh, the history is soon related,” said Charles.
“Proscribed, despoiled, disdained, I resolved, in spite of
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all my repugnance, to tempt fortune one last time. Is it not
written above, that, for our family, all good fortune and
all bad fortune shall eternally come from France? You know
something of that, monsieur, — you, who are one of the
Frenchmen whom my unfortunate father found at the foot of
his scaffold, on the day of his death, after having found
them at his right hand on the day of battle.”
“Sire,” said Athos modestly, “I was not alone. My companions
and I did, under the circumstances, our duty as gentlemen,
and that was all. Your majesty was about to do me the honor
to relate —- ”
“That is true. I had the protection, — pardon my
hesitation, count, but, for a Stuart, you, who understand
everything, you will comprehend that the word is hard to
pronounce; — I had, I say, the protection of my cousin the
stadtholder of Holland; but without the intervention, or at
least without the authorization of France, the stadtholder
would not take the initiative. I came, then, to ask this
authorization of the king of France, who has refused me.”
“The king has refused you, sire!”
“Oh, not he; all justice must be rendered to my younger
brother Louis; but Monsieur de Mazarin —- ”
Athos bit his lips.
“You perhaps think I should have expected this refusal?”
said the king, who had noticed the movement.
“That was, in truth, my thought, sire,” replied Athos,
respectfully, “I know that Italian of old.”
“Then I determined to come to the test, and know at once the
last word of my destiny. I told my brother Louis, that, not
to compromise either France or Holland, I would tempt
fortune myself in person, as I had already done, with two
hundred gentlemen, if he would give them to me, and a
million, if he would lend it me.”
“Well, sire?”
“Well, monsieur, I am suffering at this moment something
strange, and that is, the satisfaction of despair. There is
in certain souls, — and I have just discovered that mine is
of the number, — a real satisfaction in the assurance that
all is lost, and the time is come to yield.”
“Oh, I hope,” said Athos, “that your majesty is not come to
that extremity.”
“To say so, my lord count, to endeavor to revive hope in my
heart, you must have ill understood what I have just told
you. I came to Blois to ask of my brother Louis the alms of
a million, with which I had the hopes of re-establishing my
affairs; and my brother Louis has refused me. You see, then,
plainly, that all is lost.”
“Will your majesty permit me to express a contrary opinion?”
“How is that, count? Do you think my heart of so low an
order that I do not know how to face my position?”
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“Sire, I have always seen that it was in desperate positions
that suddenly the great turns of fortune have taken place.”
“Thank you, count, it is some comfort to meet with a heart
like yours, that is to say, sufficiently trustful in God and
in monarchy, never to despair of a royal fortune, however
low it may be fallen. Unfortunately, my dear count, your
words are like those remedies they call `sovereign,’ and
which, though able to cure curable wounds or diseases, fail
against death. Thank you for your perseverance in consoling