The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [90]
The Queen gasped at this intrusion; in her dismay she did not immediately recognize La Porte’s protégée.
“You have nothing to fear, Madame,” said the young servant. “I am Your Majesty’s, body and soul. Remote as I am from Your Majesty and lowly though my station be, I think I can find a way to help you.”
“You? Great Heavens, you! I am betrayed on all sides. Can I trust in you?”
Madame Bonacieux fell to her knees:
“Madame,” she vowed, “I swear upon my soul that I am ready to die for Your Majesty.” That cry of loyalty sprang from her innermost heart; its fervor and sincerity were unmistakable. “Ay, Madame,” the young woman continued, “there are traitors here in the Louvre! But by the Holy Name of the Virgin, I swear that no one is more devoted to Your Majesty than I am. These studs the King requests of you—you gave them to the Duke of Buckingham, did you not? They were in a little rosewood box which he took away with him. Am I mistaken?”
“Ah, God, ah, God!” the Queen moaned.
“We must get those studs back, Madame.”
“Of course, my child! But how? What to do? How to go about it?”
“Someone must be sent to the Duke.”
“But who? Who? Whom can I trust?”
“Have faith in me, Madame; do me this honor, my Queen, and I shall find the messenger, I promise you.”
“But I shall have to write a message!”
“Yes, of course, Madame. Two words in Your Majesty’s writing and your own seal will suffice.”
“But two words might bring about my arrest, divorce and exile!”
“Perhaps, if your message were to fall into the hands of an enemy. But I promise I can have it delivered safely to the Duke.”
“So I must place my life, my honor and my reputation in your hands?”
“Ay, Madame, you must. I know I can save you.”
“But how?”
“Madame, my husband was freed only two or three days ago; I have not yet had time to see him. He is a good, honest man; he has never loved or hated anyone on earth. He will do anything I wish. One word from me and he will go to London without even knowing what tidings he bears. And he will deliver Your Majesty’s letter to the address she desires, without even knowing it is from Your Majesty!”
Fervidly the Queen grasped the young woman’s hands and looked deep into her eyes. Convinced of her servant’s sincerity, the Queen embraced Madame Bonacieux.
“Do it,” she vowed, “and you will save the life and honor of your Queen.”
“But, Madame, these are not at stake. The service I beg to render is slight indeed. Alas, are you not the victim of treacherous plots?”
“True, all too true, my child!”
“Then give me that letter at once, Madame. Time presses.”
The Queen went to her desk, wrote two short lines, sealed her message with her private seal, and handed it to Madame Bonacieux.
“We are forgetting one very important thing,” she said.
“What is that, Madame?”
“Money.”
“Ay!” Madame Bonacieux blushed. “I must confess to Your Majesty that my husband—”
“Your husband has none. Is that what you mean?”
“Oh, yes, he has plenty, but he is very stingy. No one is perfect and avarice is his besetting sin. But Your Majesty must not worry about all this. We shall find some way—”
“The truth is that I have no money either,” the Queen confessed. “But wait!” She picked up her jewel-case: “Here,” she said breathlessly, “here is a ring of great value, I am told. It is a gift from my brother, the King of Spain; it belongs to me, I can dispose of it as I wish. Take this ring, sell it and let your husband leave for London at once.”
“You shall be obeyed within an hour, Madame.”
“You see the address,” the Queen added, almost inaudibly. “This message goes to His Grace the Duke of Buckingham, London.”
“The letter will be delivered to him in person.”
The Queen grasped Madame Bonacieux’s hands and sighed: “You generous child!”
Madame Bonacieux kissed the Queen’s hands, concealed the paper in her bodice