The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [84]
“But since he behaved like a vagabond and a thief, you should have—”
Louis XIII stopped, frightened at what he was about to say; Richelieu, craning his neck, waited in vain for the word which had died on the monarch’s lips.
“I should have—?”
“Nothing, nothing!” said the King. “But all the while he was in Paris, you kept your eye on him?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Where did he lodge?”
“Number 75 Rue de La Harpe.”
“Where is that?”
“Near the Luxembourg Palace.”
“You are sure he did not meet the Queen?”
“I believe the Queen too loyal to you to have done so.”
“But they corresponded. It was to him the Queen wrote all day yesterday. Monsieur le Cardinal, I must have those letters.”
“But Sire—”
“Monsieur le Cardinal, I must have them at all costs.”
“I beg Your Majesty to observe—”
“Are you too betraying me, Monseigneur? Why do you constantly oppose my will? Are you too in league with the Spaniards and the English, with Madame de Chevreuse and with the Queen?”
“Sire,” the Cardinal sighed, “I believed I had proved myself above suspicion.”
“Monsieur le Cardinal, you heard me: I will have those letters.”
“There is but one way—.”
“What is that?”
“Monsieur Séguier, Keeper of the Seals, might be entrusted with this task; it rests entirely within the competence of his post.”
“Let him be sent for instantly.”
“He is probably waiting for me now. We had an engagement this evening, when Your Majesty summoned me, I left word for him to await my return.”
“Let him be sent for instantly.”
“Your Majesty’s orders shall be executed, but—”
“But what?”
“But the Queen may perhaps refuse to obey.”
“To obey my orders?”
“Yes, if she does not know these orders come from the King.”
“Well then, to dispel any doubts she might have on that matter, I shall go tell her myself.”
“I beg you to remember, Sire, that I have done everything in my power to prevent a misunderstanding between Her Majesty and yourself.”
“Yes, Monseigneur, I know you are very indulgent—perhaps too indulgent—where the Queen is concerned. In fact, I warn you, we shall have cause to take up that matter presently.”
“Whenever it shall please Your Majesty. Meanwhile I shall always remain happy, nay proud, Sire, to assure perfect harmony between my royal masters.”
“Good, Monsieur le Cardinal, good. Now, pray send for the Keeper of the Seals; I go to call upon the Queen.”
With which the King departed.
The Queen was surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, Madame de Guitaut, Madame de Sablé, Madame de Montbazon and Madame de Guéménée. In one corner sat the Spanish Lady of the Bedchamber, Dona Estefana, who had followed the Queen from Madrid. Madame de Guéménée was reading aloud and everyone was listening attentively save the Queen, who, on the contrary, had suggested this reading. While pretending to listen, Her Majesty pursued the thread of her own thoughts.
These thoughts, though intent upon love, were tinged with melancholy. The Queen was recalling how she was deprived of her husband’s confidence . . . how relentlessly the Cardinal’s hatred dogged her footsteps . . . how Richelieu had never forgiven her for repulsing a more tender sentiment on his part . . . how the Queen Mother, Marie de Medici, had once granted Richelieu the favors Anne now refused . . . how Richelieu’s rancor had pursued the Queen Mother for years after the liaison was over . . . how Anne herself had seen her most devoted followers, her most intimate confidants and her most cherished favorites struck down on every side. . . . Truly, she was like those unfortunates who are damned with a fatal gift . . . she brought ruin to everything she touched . . . her very friendship was a fated signal for the persecution of those she befriended . . . Madame de Chevreuse and Madame de Vernet in exile . . . and now La Porte himself did not conceal from her that he expected to be arrested at any moment. . . .
The Queen was plunged in the