The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [320]
“You have been arrested by my orders, Monsieur.”
“So I have been told, Monseigneur.”
“Do you know why?”
“No, Monseigneur, I do not. Certainly there are grounds for my arrest, but Your Eminence has not yet learned them.”
Richelieu looked steadily at the young man.
“What, Monsieur?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
“If Monseigneur will be kind enough to tell me in the first place what crimes I am charged with, I shall then inform him of what I have already done.”
“You are charged with crimes which have brought down far loftier heads than yours, Monsieur.”
“What crimes, Monseigneur?” D’Artagnan asked with a calmness that amazed the Cardinal.
“You are indicted for correspondence and intelligence with the enemies of the Kingdom, for violation of secrets of State, and for attempting to thwart the plans of your Commanding General.”
“But by whom were these charges preferred, Monseigneur?” D’Artagnan asked, knowing that it was certainly Milady.
And before the Cardinal could speak, he was answering his own question:
“By a woman whom the justice of our country has branded: by a woman who espoused one man in France and another in England; by a woman who poisoned her second husband and who attempted both to poison and to slay me.”
“What in the world are you saying, Monsieur? What woman are you talking about?”
“I am talking about Lady Clark. Since you have honored me with your confidence, Monseigneur, I have no doubt you are ignorant of Milady’s crimes.”
“If Lady Clark has committed these crimes, Monsieur, you may be sure she will be duly punished.”
“Monseigneur, she has already been punished.”
“By whom, pray?”
“By my three friends and myself.”
“She is in prison?”
“She is dead.”
“Dead!” the Cardinal exclaimed incredulously. “Dead! You say she is dead?”
“Thrice she attempted to kill me and I pardoned her,” D’Artagnan said. “But when she murdered the woman I loved, my friends and I seized, tried and sentenced her.”
D’Artagnan then related how Madame Bonacieux was poisoned in the Carmelite convent at Béthune, how the trial was held in the lonely house and how Milady was executed on the banks of the Lys.
The Cardinal, a man renowned for his phlegm, shuddered at the recital. Then, perhaps reacting to some secret thought, he seemed to change completely. His gloomy expression gradually cleared and, perfectly serene:
“So you and your friends dared to sit as judges!” he declared in a tone that contrasted strangely with the severity of his words. “Do you realize that those who punish without license to punish are guilty of murder?”
“I swear to you, Monseigneur, that it never for a moment occurs to me to defend my life against you,” D’Artagnan answered. “I shall willingly submit to any punishment Your Eminence may please to order. I have never held life so precious as to be afraid of death.”
“Monsieur, I know you to be a brave man,” the Cardinal said almost affectionately. “I can therefore tell you immediately that you will be tried and probably convicted.”
“Another might assure Your Eminence that he had his pardon in his pocket. For my part, I am content to say: ‘Command as you see fit, Monseigneur, I shall obey.’”
“Your pardon in your pocket?” said Richelieu, surprised.
“Ay, Monseigneur!”
“A pardon signed by whom?” Richelieu asked, adding with a singular tone of contempt: “By the King?”
“No, by Your Eminence.”
“By me? You are insane, Monsieur.”
“Surely Monseigneur will recognize his own handwriting?” D’Artagnan said. And he handed over the precious note which Athos had seized from Milady and had given him to serve for a safeguard. His Eminence accepted the paper, scanned it carefully, and read the text slowly, syllable by syllable:
December third, 1627
It is by my order and for the service of the State that the bearer of this note has done what he