made by the man in stooping a portion of his face was
uncovered and D’Artagnan recognized the coadjutor.
“It is certainly the king,” said the man, rising again. “God
bless his majesty!”
“Yes,” repeated the leader in a whisper, “God bless his
majesty!” and all these men, who had entered enraged, passed
from anger to pity and blessed the royal infant in their
turn.
“Now,’, said Planchet, “let us thank the queen. My friends,
retire.”
They all bowed, and retired by degrees as noiselessly as
they had entered. Planchet, who had been the first to enter,
was the last to leave. The queen stopped him.
“What is your name, my friend?” she said.
Planchet, much surprised at the inquiry, turned back.
“Yes,” continued the queen, “I think myself as much honored
to have received you this evening as if you had been a
prince, and I wish to know your name.”
“Yes,” thought Planchet, “to treat me as a prince. No, thank
you.”
D’Artagnan trembled lest Planchet, seduced, like the crow in
the fable, should tell his name, and that the queen, knowing
his name, would discover that Planchet had belonged to him.
“Madame,” replied Planchet, respectfully, “I am called
Dulaurier, at your service.”
“Thank you, Monsieur Dulaurier,” said the queen; “and what
is your business?”
“Madame, I am a clothier in the Rue Bourdonnais.”
“That is all I wished to know,” said the queen. “Much
obliged to you, Monsieur Dulaurier. You will hear again from
me.”
“Come, come,” thought D’Artagnan, emerging from behind the
curtain, “decidedly Monsieur Planchet is no fool; it is
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evident he has been brought up in a good school.”
The different actors in this strange scene remained facing
one another, without uttering a single word; the queen
standing near the door, D’Artagnan half out of his hiding
place, the king raised on his elbow, ready to fall down on
his bed again at the slightest sound that would indicate the
return of the multitude, but instead of approaching, the
noise became more and more distant and very soon it died
entirely away.
The queen breathed more freely. D’Artagnan wiped his damp
forehead and the king slid off his bed, saying, “Let us go.”
At this moment Laporte reappeared.
“Well?” asked the queen
“Well, madame,” replied the valet, “I followed them as far
as the gates. They announced to all their comrades that they
had seen the king and that the queen had spoken to them;
and, in fact, they went away quite proud and happy.”
“Oh, the miserable wretches!” murmured the queen, “they
shall pay dearly for their boldness, and it is I who promise
this.”
Then turning to D’Artagnan, she said:
“Sir, you have given me this evening the best advice I have
ever received. Continue, and say what we must do now.”
“Monsieur Laporte,” said D’Artagnan, “finish dressing his
majesty.”
“We may go, then?” asked the queen.
“Whenever your majesty pleases. You have only to descend by
the private stairs and you will find me at the door.”
“Go, sir,” said the queen; “I will follow you.”
D’Artagnan went down and found the carriage at its post and
the musketeer on the box. D’Artagnan took out the parcel
which he had desired Bernouin to place under the seat. It
may be remembered that it was the hat and cloak belonging to
Monsieur de Gondy’s coachman.
He placed the cloak on his shoulders and the hat on his
head, whilst the musketeer got off the box.
“Sir,” said D’Artagnan, “you will go and release your
companion, who is guarding the coachman. You must mount your
horse and proceed to the Rue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la
Chevrette, whence you will take my horse and that of
Monsieur du Vallon, which you must saddle and equip as if
for war, and then you will leave Paris, bringing them with
you to Cours la Reine. If, when you arrive at Cours la
Reine, you find no one, you must go on to Saint Germain. On
the king’s service.”
The musketeer touched his cap and went away to execute the
orders thus received.
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