sweet expression to her voice which she could do at will,
“that in former days the queen had once need of a young,
brave and devoted cavalier — that she found this cavalier
— and that, although he might have thought that she had
forgotten him, she had kept a place for him in the depths of
her heart?”
“No, madame, I was ignorant of that,” said the musketeer.
“So much the worse, sir,” said Anne of Austria; “so much the
worse, at least for the queen, for to-day she has need of
the same courage and the same devotion.”
“What!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, “does the queen, surrounded as
she is by such devoted servants, such wise counselors, men,
in short, so great by merit or position — does she deign to
cast her eyes on an obscure soldier?”
Anne understood this covert reproach and was more moved than
irritated by it. She had many a time felt humiliated by the
self-sacrifice and disinterestedness shown by the Gascon
gentleman. She had allowed herself to be exceeded in
generosity.
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“All that you tell me of those by whom I am surrounded,
Monsieur d’Artagnan, is doubtless true,” said the queen,
“but I have confidence in you alone. I know that you belong
to the cardinal, but belong to me as well, and I will take
upon myself the making of your fortune. Come, will you do
to-day what formerly the gentleman you do not know did for
the queen?”
“I will do everything your majesty commands,” replied
D’Artagnan.
The queen reflected for a moment and then, seeing the
cautious demeanor of the musketeer:
“Perhaps you like repose?” she said.
“I do not know, for I have never had it, madame.”
“Have you any friends?”
“I had three, two of whom have left Paris, to go I know not
where. One alone is left to me, but he is one of those
known, I believe, to the cavalier of whom your majesty did
me the honor to speak.”
“Very good,” said the queen; “you and your friend are worth
an army.”
“What am I to do, madame?”
“Return at five o’clock and I will tell you; but do not
breathe to a living soul, sir, the rendezvous which I give
you.”
“No, madame.”
“Swear it upon the cross.”
“Madame, I have never been false to my word; when I say I
will not do a thing, I mean it.”
The queen, although astonished at this language, to which
she was not accustomed from her courtiers, argued from it a
happy omen of the zeal with which D’Artagnan would serve her
in the accomplishment of her project. It was one of the
Gascon’s artifices to hide his deep cunning occasionally
under an appearance of rough loyalty.
“Has the queen any further commands for me now?” asked
D’Artagnan.
“No, sir,” replied Anne of Austria, “and you may retire
until the time that I mentioned to you.”
D’Artagnan bowed and went out.
“Diable!” he exclaimed when the door was shut, “they seem to
have the greatest need of me just now.”
Then, as the half hour had already glided by, he crossed the
gallery and knocked at the cardinal’s door.
Bernouin introduced him.
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“I come for your commands, my lord,” he said.
And according to his custom D’Artagnan glanced rapidly
around and remarked that Mazarin had a sealed letter before
him. But it was so placed on the desk that he could not see
to whom it was addressed.
“You come from the queen?” said Mazarin, looking fixedly at
D’Artagnan.
“I! my lord — who told you that?”
“Nobody, but I know it.”
“I regret infinitely to tell you, my lord, that you are
mistaken,” replied the Gascon, impudently, firm to the
promise he had just made to Anne of Austria.
“I opened the door of the ante-room myself and I saw you
enter at the end of the corridor.”
“Because I was shown up the private stairs.”
“How so?”
“I know not; it must have been a mistake.”
Mazarin was aware that it was not easy to make D’Artagnan
reveal anything he was desirous of hiding, so he gave up,