astounded by this returning courage.
“I will tell you all,” replied Anne. “Listen: there were in
truth, at that epoch, four devoted hearts, four loyal
spirits, four faithful swords, who saved more than my life
— my honor —- ”
“Ah! you confess it!” exclaimed Mazarin.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“Is it only the guilty whose honor is at the sport of
others, sir? and cannot women be dishonored by appearances?
Yes, appearances were against me and I was about to suffer
dishonor. However, I swear I was not guilty, I swear it by
—- ”
The queen looked around her for some sacred object by which
she could swear, and taking out of a cupboard hidden in the
tapestry, a small coffer of rosewood set in silver, and
laying it on the altar:
“I swear,” she said, “by these sacred relics that Buckingham
was not my lover.”
“What relics are those by which you swear?” asked Mazarin,
smiling. “I am incredulous.”
The queen untied from around her throat a small golden key
which hung there, and presented it to the cardinal.
“Open, sir,” she said, “and look for yourself.”
Mazarin opened the coffer; a knife, covered with rust, and
two letters, one of which was stained with blood, alone met
his gaze.
“What are these things?” he asked.
“What are these things?” replied Anne, with queen-like
dignity, extending toward the open coffer an arm, despite
the lapse of years, still beautiful. “These two letters are
the only ones I ever wrote to him. This knife is the knife
with which Felton stabbed him. Read the letters and see if I
have lied or spoken the truth.”
But Mazarin, notwithstanding this permission, instead of
reading the letters, took the knife which the dying
Buckingham had snatched out of the wound and sent by Laporte
to the queen. The blade was red, for the blood had become
rust; after a momentary examination during which the queen
became as white as the cloth which covered the altar on
which she was leaning, he put it back into the coffer with
an involuntary shudder.
“It is well, madame, I believe your oath.”
“No, no, read,” exclaimed the queen, indignantly; “read, I
command you, for I am resolved that everything shall be
finished to-night and never will I recur to this subject
again. Do you think,” she said, with a ghastly smile, “that
I shall be inclined to reopen this coffer to answer any
future accusations?”
Mazarin, overcome by this determination, read the two
letters. In one the queen asked for the ornaments back
again. This letter had been conveyed by D’Artagnan and had
arrived in time. The other was that which Laporte had placed
in the hands of the Duke of Buckingham, warning him that he
was about to be assassinated; that communication had arrived
too late.
“It is well, madame,” said Mazarin; “nothing can gainsay
such testimony.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“Sir,” replied the queen, closing the coffer and leaning her
hand upon it, “if there is anything to be said, it is that I
have always been ungrateful to the brave men who saved me —
that I have given nothing to that gallant officer,
D’Artagnan, you were speaking of just now, but my hand to
kiss and this diamond.”
As she spoke she extended her beautiful hand to the cardinal
and showed him a superb diamond which sparkled on her
finger.
“It appears,” she resumed, “that he sold it —he sold it in
order to save me another time — to be able to send a
messenger to the duke to warn him of his danger — he sold
it to Monsieur des Essarts, on whose finger I remarked it. I
bought it from him, but it belongs to D’Artagnan. Give it
back to him, sir, and since you have such a man in your
service, make him useful.”
“Thank you, madame,” said Mazarin. “I will profit by the
advice.”
“And now,” added the queen, her voice broken by her emotion,
“have you any other question to ask me?”
“Nothing,” — the cardinal spoke in his most conciliatory
manner — “except to beg of you to forgive my unworthy