The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas (read people like a book txt) 📕

pounds of powder, twelve cargoes of Northern timber, matches, grenades, pitch, tar—I know not what! with a saving of seven per cent upon what all those articles would cost me fabricated in France.”

“That is a capital and quaint idea,” replied D’Artagnan, “to have Dutch cannon-balls cast which will return to the Dutch.”

“Is it not, with loss, too?” And Colbert laughed aloud. He was delighted with his own joke.

“Still further,” added he, “these same Dutch are building for the king, at this moment, six vessels after the model of the best of their name. Destouches—Ah! perhaps you don’t know Destouches?”

“No, monsieur.”

“He is a man who has a sure glance to discern, when a ship is launched, what are the defects and qualities of that ship—that is valuable, observe! Nature is truly whimsical. Well, this Destouches appeared to me to be a man likely to prove useful in marine affairs, and he is superintending the construction of six vessels of seventy-eight guns, which the Provinces are building for his majesty. It results from this, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan, that the king, if he wished to quarrel with the Provinces, would have a very pretty fleet. Now, you know better than anybody else if the land army is efficient.”

D’Artagnan and Aramis looked at each other, wondering at the mysterious labors this man had undertaken in so short a time. Colbert understood them, and was touched by this best of flatteries.

“If we, in France, were ignorant of what was going on,” said D’Artagnan, “out of France still less must be known.”

“That is why I told monsieur l’ambassadeur,” said Colbert, “that, Spain promising its neutrality, England helping us—”

“If England assists you,” said Aramis, “I promise the neutrality of Spain.”

“I take you at your word,” Colbert hastened to reply with his blunt bonhomie. “And, a propos of Spain, you have not the ‘Golden Fleece,’ Monsieur d’Almeda. I heard the king say the other day that he should like to see you wear the grand cordon of St. Michael.”

Aramis bowed. “Oh!” thought D’Artagnan, “and Porthos is no longer here! What ells of ribbons would there be for him in these largesses! Dear Porthos!”

“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” resumed Colbert, “between us two, you will have, I wager, an inclination to lead your musketeers into Holland. Can you swim?” And he laughed like a man in high good humor.

“Like an eel,” replied D’Artagnan.

“Ah! but there are some bitter passages of canals and marshes yonder, Monsieur d’Artagnan, and the best swimmers are sometimes drowned there.”

“It is my profession to die for his majesty,” said the musketeer. “Only, as it is seldom in war that much water is met with without a little fire, I declare to you beforehand, that I will do my best to choose fire. I am getting old; water freezes me—but fire warms, Monsieur Colbert.”

And D’Artagnan looked so handsome still in quasi-juvenile strength as he pronounced these words, that Colbert, in his turn, could not help admiring him. D’Artagnan perceived the effect he had produced. He remembered that the best tradesman is he who fixes a high price upon his goods, when they are valuable. He prepared his price in advance.

“So, then,” said Colbert, “we go into Holland?”

“Yes,” replied D’Artagnan; “only—”

“Only?” said M. Colbert.

“Only,” repeated D’Artagnan, “there lurks in everything the question of interest, the question of self-love. It is a very fine title, that of captain of the musketeers; but observe this: we have now the king’s guards and the military household of the king. A captain of musketeers ought to command all that, and then he would absorb a hundred thousand livres a year for expenses.”

“Well! but do you suppose the king would haggle with you?” said Colbert.

“Eh! monsieur, you have not understood me,” replied D’Artagnan, sure of carrying his point. “I was telling you that I, an old captain, formerly chief of the king’s guard, having precedence of the marechaux of France—I saw myself one day in the trenches with two other equals, the captain of the guards and the colonel commanding the Swiss. Now, at no price will I suffer that. I have old habits, and I will stand or fall by them.”

Colbert felt this blow, but he was prepared for it.

“I have been thinking of what you said just now,” replied he.

“About what, monsieur?”

“We were speaking of canals and marshes in which people are drowned.”

“Well!”

“Well! if they are drowned, it is for want of a boat, a plank, or a stick.”

“Of a stick, however short it may be,” said D’Artagnan.

“Exactly,” said Colbert. “And, therefore, I never heard of an instance of a marechal of France being drowned.”

D’Artagnan became very pale with joy, and in a not very firm voice, “People would be very proud of me in my country,” said he, “if I were a marechal of France; but a man must have commanded an expedition in chief to obtain the baton.”

“Monsieur!” said Colbert, “here is in this pocket-book which you will study, a plan of campaign you will have to lead a body of troops to carry out in the next spring.” 12

D’Artagnan took the book, tremblingly, and his fingers meeting those of Colbert, the minister pressed the hand of the musketeer loyally.

“Monsieur,” said he, “we had both a revenge to take, one over the other. I have begun; it is now your turn!”

“I will do you justice, monsieur,” replied D’Artagnan, “and implore you to tell the king that the first opportunity that shall offer, he may depend upon a victory, or to behold me dead—or both.”

“Then I will have the fleurs-de-lis for your marechal’s baton prepared immediately,” said Colbert.

On the morrow, Aramis, who was setting out for Madrid, to negotiate the neutrality of Spain, came to embrace D’Artagnan at his hotel.

“Let us love each other for four,” said D’Artagnan. “We are now but two.”

“And you will, perhaps, never see me again, dear D’Artagnan,” said Aramis; “if you knew how I have loved you! I am old, I am extinct—ah, I am almost dead.”

“My friend,” said D’Artagnan, “you will live longer than I shall: diplomacy commands you to live; but, for my part, honor condemns me to die.”

“Bah! such men as we are, monsieur le marechal,” said Aramis, “only die satisfied with joy in glory.”

“Ah!” replied D’Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, “I assure you, monsieur le duc, I feel very little appetite for either.”

They once more embraced, and, two hours after, separated—forever.

The Death of D’Artagnan.

Contrary to that which generally happens, whether in politics or morals, each kept his promises, and did honor to his engagements.

The king recalled M. de Guiche, and banished M. le Chevalier de Lorraine; so that Monsieur became ill in consequence. Madame set out for London, where she applied herself so earnestly to make her brother, Charles II., acquire a taste for the political counsels of Mademoiselle de Keroualle, that the alliance between England and France was signed, and the English vessels, ballasted by a few millions of French gold, made a terrible campaign against the fleets of the United Provinces. Charles II. had promised Mademoiselle de Keroualle a little gratitude for her good counsels; he made her Duchess of Portsmouth. Colbert had promised the king vessels, munitions, victories. He kept his word, as is well known. At length Aramis, upon whose promises there was least dependence to be placed, wrote Colbert the following letter, on the subject of the negotiations which he had undertaken at Madrid:

“MONSIEUR COLBERT,—I have the honor to expedite to you the R. P. Oliva, general ad interim of the Society of Jesus, my provisional successor. The reverend father will explain to you, Monsieur Colbert, that I preserve to myself the direction of all the affairs of the order which concern France and Spain; but that I am not willing to retain the title of general, which would throw too high a side-light on the progress of the negotiations with which His Catholic Majesty wishes to intrust me. I shall resume that title by the command of his majesty, when the labors I have undertaken in concert with you, for the great glory of God and His Church, shall be brought to a good end. The R. P. Oliva will inform you likewise, monsieur, of the consent His Catholic Majesty gives to the signature of a treaty which assures the neutrality of Spain in the event of a war between France and the United Provinces. This consent will be valid even if England, instead of being active, should satisfy herself with remaining neutral. As for Portugal, of which you and I have spoken, monsieur, I can assure you it will contribute with all its resources to assist the Most Christian King in his war. I beg you, Monsieur Colbert, to preserve your friendship and also to believe in my profound attachment, and to lay my respect at the feet of His Most Christian Majesty. Signed,

“LE DUC D’ALMEDA.” 13

Aramis had performed more than he had promised; it remained to be seen how the king, M. Colbert, and D’Artagnan would be faithful to each other. In the spring, as Colbert had predicted, the land army entered on its campaign. It preceded, in magnificent order, the court of Louis XIV., who, setting out on horseback, surrounded by carriages filled with ladies and courtiers, conducted the elite of his kingdom to this sanguinary fete. The officers of the army, it is true, had no other music save the artillery of the Dutch forts; but it was enough for a great number, who found in this war honor, advancement, fortune—or death.

M. d’Artagnan set out commanding a body of twelve thousand men, cavalry, and infantry, with which he was ordered to take the different places which form knots of that strategic network called La Frise. Never was an army conducted more gallantly to an expedition. The officers knew that their leader, prudent and skillful as he was brave, would not sacrifice a single man, nor yield an inch of ground without necessity. He had the old habits of war, to live upon the country, keeping his soldiers singing and the enemy weeping. The captain of the king’s musketeers well knew his business. Never were opportunities better chosen, coups-de-main better supported, errors of the besieged more quickly taken advantage of.

The army commanded by D’Artagnan took twelve small places within a month. He was engaged in besieging the thirteenth, which had held out five days. D’Artagnan caused the trenches to be opened without appearing to suppose that these people would ever allow themselves to be taken. The pioneers and laborers were, in the army of this man, a body full of ideas and zeal, because their commander treated them like soldiers, knew how to render their work glorious, and never allowed them to be killed if he could help it. It should have been seen with what eagerness the marshy glebes of Holland were turned over. Those turf-heaps, mounds of potter’s clay, melted at the word of the soldiers like butter in the frying-pans of Friesland housewives.

M. d’Artagnan dispatched a courier to the king to give him an account of the last success, which redoubled the good humor of his majesty and his inclination to amuse the ladies. These victories of M. d’Artagnan gave so much majesty to the prince, that Madame de Montespan no longer called him anything but Louis the Invincible. So that Mademoiselle de la Valliere, who only called the king Louis the Victorious, lost much of his majesty’s favor. Besides, her eyes were frequently red, and to an Invincible nothing is more disagreeable than a mistress who weeps while everything is smiling round her. The star of Mademoiselle de la Valliere was being drowned in clouds and tears. But the gayety of Madame de Montespan redoubled with the successes of the king, and consoled him for every other unpleasant circumstance. It was to D’Artagnan the king owed this; and his majesty was anxious to acknowledge these services; he wrote to M. Colbert:

“MONSIEUR COLBERT,—We have a promise to fulfil with M. d’Artagnan, who