without a kingdom is, in my opinion, a grain of seed which
will blossom in some season or other, provided a skillful,
discreet, and vigorous hand sow it duly and truly, selecting
soil, sky, and time.”
Planchet still approved by a nod of his head, which showed
that he did not perfectly comprehend all that was said.
“`Poor little seed of a king,’ said I to myself, and really
I was affected, Planchet, which leads me to think I am
entering upon a foolish business. And that is why I wished
to consult you, my friend.”
Planchet colored with pleasure and pride.
“`Poor little seed of a king! I will pick you up and cast
you into good ground.'”
“Good God!” said Planchet, looking earnestly at his old
master, as if in doubt as to the state of his reason.
“Well, what is it?” said D’Artagnan; “who hurts you?”
“Me! nothing, monsieur.”
“You said, `Good God!'”
“Did I?”
“I am sure you did. Can you already understand?”
“I confess, M. d’Artagnan, that I am afraid —- ”
“To understand?”
“Yes.”
“To understand that I wish to replace upon his throne this
King Charles II., who has no throne? Is that it?”
Planchet made a prodigious bound in his chair. “Ah, ah!”
said he, in evident terror, “that is what you call a
restoration!”
“Yes, Planchet; is it not the proper term for it?”
“Oh, no doubt, no doubt! But have you reflected seriously?”
“Upon what?”
“Upon what is going on yonder.”
“Where?”
“In England.”
“And what is that? let us see, Planchet.”
“In the first place, monsieur, I ask your pardon for
meddling in these things, which have nothing to do with my
trade; but since it is an affair that you propose to me —
for you are proposing an affair, are you not? —- ”
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“A superb one, Planchet.”
“But as it is business you propose to me, I have the right
to discuss it.”
“Discuss it, Planchet; out of discussion is born light.”
“Well, then, since I have monsieur’s permission, I will tell
him that there is yonder, in the first place, the
parliament.”
“Well, next?”
“And then the army.”
“Good! Do you see anything else?”
“Why, then the nation.”
“Is that all?”
“The nation which consented to the overthrow and death of
the late king, the father of this one, and which will not be
willing to belie its acts.”
“Planchet,” said D’Artagnan, “you argue like a cheese! The
nation — the nation is tired of these gentlemen who give
themselves such barbarous names, and who sing songs to it.
Chanting for chanting, my dear Planchet; I have remarked
that nations prefer singing a merry chant to the plain
chant. Remember the Fronde; what did they sing in those
times? Well those were good times.”
“Not too good, not too good! I was near being hung in those
times.”
“Well, but you were not.”
“No.”
“And you laid the foundation of your fortune in the midst of
all those songs?”
“That is true.”
“Then you have nothing to say against them.”
“Well, I return, then, to the army and parliament.”
“I say that I borrow twenty thousand livres of M. Planchet,
and that I put twenty thousand livres of my own to it, and
with these forty thousand livres I raise an army.”
Planchet clasped his hands; he saw that D’Artagnan was in
earnest, and, in good truth, he believed his master had lost
his senses.
“An army! — ah, monsieur,” said he, with his most agreeable
smile, for fear of irritating the madman, and rendering him
furious, — “an army! — how many?”
“Of forty men,” said D’Artagnan.
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“Forty against forty thousand! that is not enough. I know
very well that you, M. d’Artagnan, alone, are equal to a
thousand men, but where are we to find thirty-nine men equal
to you? Or, if we could find them, who would furnish you
with money to pay them?”
“Not bad, Planchet. Ah, the devil! you play the courtier.”
“No, monsieur, I speak what I think, and that is exactly why
I say that, in the first pitched battle you fight with your