us.”
“Perhaps,” said Anne; “but that idea, if at last I have it
—- ”
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“Your majesty will do us justice. In doing us justice you
will no longer treat us as men of vulgar stamp. You will see
in me an ambassador worthy of the high interests he is
authorized to discuss with his sovereign.”
“Where is the treaty?”
“Here it is.”
Anne of Austria cast her eyes upon the treaty that
D’Artagnan presented to her.
“I do not see here,” she said, “anything but general
conditions; the interests of the Prince de Conti or of the
Ducs de Beaufort, de Bouillon and d’Elbeuf and of the
coadjutor, are herein consulted; but with regard to yours?”
“We do ourselves justice, madame, even in assuming the high
position that we have. We do not think ourselves worthy to
stand near such great names.”
“But you, I presume, have decided to assert your pretensions
viva voce?”
“I believe you, madame, to be a great and powerful queen,
and that it will be unworthy of your power and greatness if
you do not recompense the arms which will bring back his
eminence to Saint Germain.”
“It is my intention so to do; come, let us hear you. Speak.”
“He who has negotiated these matters (forgive me if I begin
by speaking of myself, but I must claim that importance
which has been given to me, not assumed by me) he who has
arranged matters for the return of the cardinal, ought, it
appears to me, in order that his reward may not be unworthy
of your majesty, to be made commandant of the guards — an
appointment something like that of captain of the
musketeers.”
“‘Tis the appointment Monsieur de Treville held, you ask of
me.”
“The place, madame, is vacant, and although ’tis a year
since Monsieur de Treville has left it, it has not been
filled.”
“But it is one of the principal military appointments in the
king’s household.”
“Monsieur de Treville was but a younger son of a simple
Gascon family, like me, madame; he occupied that post for
twenty years.”
“You have an answer ready for everything,” replied the
queen, and she took from her bureau a document, which she
filled up and signed.
“Undoubtedly, madame,” said D’Artagnan, taking the document
and bowing, “this is a noble reward; but everything in the
world is unstable, and the man who happened to fall into
disgrace with your majesty might lose this office
to-morrow.”
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“What more do you want?” asked the queen, coloring, as she
found that she had to deal with a mind as subtle as her own.
“A hundred thousand francs for this poor captain of
musketeers, to be paid whenever his services shall no longer
be acceptable to your majesty.”
Anne hesitated.
“To think of the Parisians,” soliloquized D’Artagnan,
“offering only the other day, by an edict of the parliament,
six hundred thousand francs to any man soever who would
deliver up the cardinal to them, dead or alive — if alive,
in order to hang him; if dead, to deny him the rites of
Christian burial!”
“Come,” said Anne, “’tis reasonable, since you only ask from
a queen the sixth of what the parliament has proposed;” and
she signed an order for a hundred thousand francs.
“Now, then,” she said, “what next?”
“Madame, my friend Du Vallon is rich and has therefore
nothing in the way of fortune to desire; but I think I
remember that there was a question between him and Monsieur
Mazarin as to making his estate a barony. Nay, it must have
been a promise.”
“A country clown,” said Anne of Austria, “people will
laugh.”
“Let them,” answered D’Artagnan. “But I am sure of one thing
— that those who laugh at him in his presence will never
laugh a second time.”
“Here goes the barony.” said the queen; she signed a patent.
“Now there remains the chevalier, or the Abbe d’Herblay, as
your majesty pleases.”
“Does he wish to be a bishop?”
“No, madame, something easier to grant.”
“What?”
“It is that the king should deign to stand godfather to the