The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [113]
“What, Sire!” cried the Queen, feigning surprise, “you are giving me two more! Then I shall have fourteen in all!”
The King, at last in a position to count, could scarcely believe his eyes. Turning aside sulkily, he summoned the Cardinal and, sternly:
“Well, Monsieur le Cardinal,” he asked, “what does this mean?”
“It means, Sire, that I wished to present Her Majesty with those two studs but, not venturing to present them myself, I adopted this means of doing so.”
The Queen flashed him a smile which for all its brilliant graciousness yet proved that she was not duped by this ingenious piece of gallantry.
“I am the more grateful to Your Eminence,” she said blandly, “because I am sure these two studs have cost you as much as the other twelve cost the King.”
Then, having bowed to the King and the Cardinal, the Queen went back to her dressing-room.
And so these events took place among the most illustrious—King, Queen and Cardinal—while other important or frivolous activities occupied the flower of French nobility, the cream of the magistracy, and the choicest Parisian citizenry. Meanwhile, anonymous and unseen, a young Gascon, a guardsman, the man to whom Anne of Austria owed her extraordinary triumph over the Cardinal, was lost in a throng gathered at one of the doors. With pardonable satisfaction, he had surveyed a scene comprehensible to four people alone: the King, the Queen—the Cardinal and—himself!
The Queen made her exit and D’Artagnan was about to go home when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Turning around he saw a young woman who beckoned him to follow her. This young woman wore a black velvet mask, but despite this precaution, taken against others rather than against him, he recognized his quondam guide, the alert, sprightly and shapely Madame Bonacieux.
The evening before, they had barely exchanged a few words in the quarters of Germain, at the gatekeeper’s lodge. So eager was the lover, with the objects and message he brought, and so eager was his lady to communicate both to the Queen, that love was neglected and Madame Bonacieux tarried but a few moments. This evening, however, D’Artagnan hoped for better, moved as he was by both love and curiosity. As he followed her on and on through corridors that became more and more deserted, he sought to stop the young woman, grasp her and look into her eyes if only for an instant. But, quick and elusive as a bird, she always slipped through his hands. Whenever he sought to speak, her finger placed over her lips, in a little imperious gesture full of charm, enjoined silence, reminding him that he must obey blindly and in every particular. Finally, after winding to left and right down various passageways, through vestibules and across landings, Madame Bonacieux opened a door and ushered him into a small antechamber that was completely dark. There again she bade him be silent, placing her finger upon his lips this time. Then she opened an inner door concealed by a tapestry, a brilliant light spread through the room, she disappeared, and all was silence and darkness again.
D’Artagnan stood motionless for a moment, wondering where he was and what was about to happen. Presently a ray of light penetrated into the chamber . . . he felt a current of warm perfumed air . . . he heard the voices of two, then three ladies conversing . . . he could not distinguish what they said but he noted the refinement and ceremony of their tones . . . the word Majesty occurred several times . . . so he could but conclude that he was in a chamber adjoining the Queen’s dressing-room. . . .
He stood there waiting in the shadows. Now the sounds from the next room came more clearly. The Queen sounded cheerful and happy, at which her ladies seemed to be somewhat astonished, for, as everyone knew, Her Majesty was usually worried and anxious. D’Artagnan actually caught a few words of the conversation. As a lady with a high, slight voice congratulated the Queen on her new-found gaiety, he heard Her Majesty reply that she was