Chapter 34 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexandre Dumas, translated by William Robson. This, certainly, provokes recording as in the public domain. Of the embarrassment of riches. D'Artagnan lost no time, and as soon as the thing was suitable and opportune, he paid a visit to the Lord Treasurer of his Majesty. He had then the satisfaction to exchange a piece of paper, covered with very ugly writing, for a prodigious number of crowns, recently stamped with the effigies of his very gracious Majesty Charles II. D'Artagnan easily controlled himself, and yet, on this occasion, he could not help evincing a joy which the reader will perhaps comprehend, if he deans to have some indulgence for a man who, since his birth, had never seen so many pieces and rolls of pieces juxtap placed in an order truly agreeable to the eye. The treasurer placed all the rolls and bags, and closed each bag with a stamp sealed with the arms of England, a favour which treasurers do not grant to everybody. Then, impassable, and just as polite as he ought to be towards a man honoured with the friendship of the King, he said to D'Artagnan, Take away your money, sir! Your money! These words made a thousand chords vibrate in the heart of D'Artagnan, which he had never felt before. He had the bags packed in a small cart, and returned home meditating deeply. A man who possesses three hundred thousand crowns, can no longer expect to wear a smooth brow. A wrinkle for every hundred thousand leva is not too much. D'Artagnan shut himself up, ate no dinner, closed his door to everybody, and with a lighted lamp and a loaded pistol on the table, he watched all night, ruminating upon the means of preventing these lovely crowns, which from the coffers of the King had passed into his coffers, from passing from his coffers into the pockets of any thief, whatever. The best means discovered by the Gascon was to enclose his treasure, for the present underlocked so solid that no wrist could break them, and so complicated that no master key could open them. D'Artagnan remembered that the English are masters in mechanics, and conservative industry, and he determined to go in the morning in search of a mechanic who would sell him a strong box. He did not go far. Master Will Jobson, dwelling in Piccadilly, listened to his propositions, comprehended his wishes, and promised to make him a safety lock that should relieve him from all future fear.  At the first serious attempt upon your lock, an invisible plate will open of itself and vomit forth a pretty copper bullet of the weight of a mark, which will knock down the intruder, and not without a loud report. What do you think of it? I think it very ingenious, cried D'Artagnan. The little copper bullet pleases me mightily, so now, Sir Mechanic, the terms... A fortnight for the execution, and fifteen hundred crowns payable on delivery, replied the artisan. D'Artagnan's brow darkened. A fortnight was delay enough to allow the thieves of London time to remove all occasion for the strong box. As to the fifteen hundred crowns, that would be paying too dear for what a little vigilance would procure him for nothing. I will think of it, said he. Thank you, sir. And he returned home at full speed. Nobody had yet touched his treasure. That same day Athos paid a visit to his friend and found him so thoughtful that he could not help expressing his surprise. How is this? said he.  You? Who were so anxious for wealth? My friend, the pleasures to which we are not accustomed oppress us more than the griefs with which we are familiar. Give me your opinion, if you please. I can ask you, who have always had money, when we have money, what do we do with it? That depends. What have you done with yours, seeing that it has not made you a miser or a prodigal, your avarice dries up the heart and prodigality drowns it? Is not that so? Fabricius could not have spoken more justly, but in truth my money has never been a burden to me. How so? Do you place it out at interest? No. You know I have a tolerably handsome house, and that house composes the better part of my property. I know it does, so that you can be as rich as I am and indeed more rich whenever you like by the same means. But your rents, do you lay them by? What do you think of a chest concealed in a wall? I never made use of such a thing. Then you must have some confidant, some safe man of business who pays you interest at a fair rate. Not at all. What heavens? What do you do with it, then?  That may be, but you are something of a prince. Fifteen or sixteen thousand lever melt away between your fingers, and then you have expenses and appearances. Well, I don't see why you should be less of a noble than I am, my friend. Your money would be quite sufficient. Three hundred thousand crowns? Two-thirds too much! I beg your pardon. Did you not tell me? I thought I heard you say, I fancied you had a partner. Ah, Maudu, that's true, cried D'Artagnan, coloring. There is planchette.  Well, there are my three hundred thousand crowns broken into. That's a pity. It was around some and sounded well. That is true, Atheus. I am no longer rich. What a memory you have! Tolerably good, yes. Thank God! The worthy planchette grumbled D'Artagnan. His was not a bad dream. What a speculation! Pestee! Well, what is said is said. How much are you to give him? Oh, said D'Artagnan. He is not a bad fellow. I shall arrange matters with him. I have had a great deal of trouble, you see, and expenses. All that must be taken into account. My dear friend, I can depend upon you and have no fear for the worthy planchette. His interests are better in your hands than in his own, but now that you have nothing more to do here, we shall depart, if you please. You can go and thank his Majesty, ask if he has any commands, and in six days we may be able to get sight of the towers of Notre-Dame. My friend, I am most anxious to be off, and will go at once and pay my respects to the King. I, said Athos, am going to call upon some friends of the city and shall then be at your service. Will you lend me Grimaud? With all my heart. What do you want to do with him? Something very simple and which will not fatigue him. I shall only beg him to take charge of my pistols, which lie there on the table near that coffer. Very well! replied Athos, imperturbably. And he will not stir, will he? Not more than the pistols themselves. Then I shall go and take leave of his Majesty. Au revoir! D'Artagnan arrived at St. James's, where Charles II, who was busy writing, kept him in the anti-chamber a full hour. Whilst walking about in the gallery from the door to the window, from the window to the door, he thought he saw a cloak like Athos' cross the vestibule, but at the moment he was going to ascertain if it were he, the usher summoned him to his Majesty's presence. Charles II rubbed his hands while receiving the thanks of our friend. Chevaillet! said he. You are wrong to express gratitude to me. I have not paid you a quarter of the value of the history of the box, into which you put the brave general, the excellent Duke of Alba Marl, I mean, and the King laughed heartily. D'Artagnan did not think it proper to interrupt his Majesty and bowed with much modesty. Apropos! continued Charles, knew you think my dear monk has really pardoned you. Pardoned me? Yes, I hope so, Sire. Heh! But it was a cruel trick, odd's fish, to pack up the first personage of the English Revolution like a herring. In your place, I would not trust him, Chevaillet. But, Sire? Yes, I know very well that monk calls you his friend, but he has to penetrating in eye not to have a memory, and to lofty a brow not to be very proud. You know, grande supercilium. I shall certainly learn Latin, said D'Artagnan to himself. But stop! cried the merry monarch. I must manage your reconciliation. I know how to set about it. So, D'Artagnan bid his moustache. Will your Majesty permit me to tell you the truth? Speak, Chevaillet! Speak! Well, Sire, you alarm me greatly. If your Majesty undertakes the affair as you seem inclined to do, I am a lost man. The duke will have me assassinated. The king burst into a fresh roar of laughter, which changed D'Artagnan's alarm into downright terror. Sire, I beg you to allow me to settle this matter myself, and if your Majesty has no further need of my services. No Chevaillet! What do you want to leave us? Replied Charles with a hilarity that grew more and more alarming. If your Majesty has no more commands for me? Charles became more serious. One single thing. See my sister, the Lady Henrietta. Do you know her? No, Sire, but an old soldier like me is not an agreeable spectacle for a young and gay princess. Ha! But my sister must know you. She must, in case of need, have you to depend upon. Sire, everyone that is dear to your Majesty will be sacred to me. Very well. Perry, come here, Perry. The side door opened and Perry entered, his face beaming with pleasure as soon as he saw D'Artagnan. What is Rochester doing? said the King. He is on the canal with the ladies, replied Perry. And Buckingham? He is there also. That is well. You will conduct the Chevaillet to Villiers. That is, the Duke of Buckingham, Chevaillet, and beg the Duke to introduce Mr. D'Artagnan to Princess Henrietta. He bowed and smiled to D'Artagnan. Chevaillet! continued the King. This is your parting audience. You can afterwards set out as soon as you please. Sire, I thank you. But be sure you make your peace with Monk. Oh, Sire! You know, there is one of my vessels at your disposal. Sire, you overpower me. I cannot think of putting your Majesty's officers to inconvenience on my account. The King slapped D'Artagnan upon the shoulder. Nobody will be inconvenienced on your account, Chevaillet. But for that of an ambassador I am about sending to France, and to whom you will willingly serve as a companion, I fancy, for you know him. D'Artagnan appeared astonished. He is a certain compte de la Faire, whom you call Athos, added the King, terminating the conversation, as he had begun it, by a joyous burst of laughter. Adieu, Chevaillet! Adieu! Love me as I love you! And thereupon making a sign to Perry to ask if there were anyone waiting for him in the adjoining closet. The King disappeared into that closet, leaving the Chevaillet perfectly astonished by this singular audience. The old man took his arm in a friendly way, and led him toward the garden. CHAPTER XXXV of the D'Artagnan Romances, vol. 3 Part 1 by Alexandre Dumas translated by William Robson, this Librivox recording is in the public domain. On the canal. On the green waters of the canal bordered with marble, upon which time had already scattered black spots and tufts of mossy grass, there glided majestically a long, flat bark, adorned with the arms of England, surmounted by a dais, and carpeted with long, damasque stuffs, which trailed their fringes in the water. Eight rowers, leaning lazily to their oars, made it move upon the canal with the graceful slowness of the swans, which, disturbed in their ancient possessions by the approach of the bark, looked from a distance at this splendid and noisy pageant. We say noisy, for the bark contained four guitar and lute players, two singers in several quarters, all sparkling with gold and precious stones, and showing their white teeth in emulation of each other. To please the Lady Henrietta Stewart, granddaughter of Henry IV, daughter of Charles I and sister of Charles II, who occupied the seat of honour under the dais of the bark, we know this young princess. We have seen her at the loo with her mother, wanting wood, wanting bread, and fed by the co-editor and the parliament. She had, therefore, like her brothers passed through an uneasy youth, then, all at once, she had just awakened from a long and horrible dream, seated on the steps of a throne, surrounded by courtiers and flatterers. Like Mary Stewart on leaving prison, she aspired not only to life and liberty, but to power and wealth. The Lady Henrietta, in growing, had attained remarkable beauty, which the recent restoration had rendered celebrated. Miss Fortune had taken from her the luster of pride, but prosperity had restored it to her. She was resplendent then in her joy and her happiness, like those hothouse flowers which, forgotten during a frosty autumn night, have hung their heads, but which on the morrow, warmed once more by the atmosphere in which they were born, rise again with greater splendour than ever. Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, son of him who played so conspicuous apart in the early chapters of this history, Villiers of Buckingham, a handsome cavalier, melancholy with women, a jester with men, and Wilmot Lord Rochester, a jester with both sexes, were standing at this moment before the Lady Henrietta, disputing the privilege of making her smile. As to that young and beautiful princess reclining upon a cushion of velvet bordered with gold, her hands hanging listlessly so as to dip in the water, she listened carelessly to the musicians without hearing them, and heard the two courtiers without appearing to listen to them. This Lady Henrietta, this charming creature, this woman who joined the graces of France to the beauties of England, not having yet loved, was cruel in her cocketry. The smile then, that innocent favour of young girls, did not even lighten her countenance, and if, at times, she did raise her eyes it was to fasten them upon one or other of the cavaliers with such a fixity that their gallantry bold as it generally was took the alarm, and became timid. In the meanwhile, the boat continued its course, the musicians made a great noise, and the courtiers began like them to be out of breath. Besides, the excursion became doubtless monotonous to the princess, for all at once, shaking her head with an air of impatience. Come, gentlemen, enough of this, let us land. Ah, madame, said Buckingham, we are very unfortunate, we have not succeeded in making the excursion agreeable to your royal hymns. My mother expects me, replied the princess, and I must frankly admit, gentlemen, I am bored. And whilst uttering this cruel word, Henrietta endeavored to console by a look each of the two young men who appeared terrified at such frankness. The look produced its effect. The two faces brightened, but immediately as if the royal coquette thought she had done too much for simple mortals, she made a movement, turned her back on both her adorers, and appeared plunged in a reverie in which it was evident they had no part. Buckingham bit his lips with anger, for he was truly in love with Lady Henrietta, and in that case took everything in a serious light. Rochester bit his lips likewise, but his wit always dominated over his heart. It was purely and simply to repress a malicious smile. The princess was then allowing the eyes she turned from the young nobles to wander over the green and flowery turf of the park when she perceived Perry and D'Artagnan at a distance. Who is coming yonder? said she. The two young men turned round with the rapidity of lightning. Perry, replied Buckingham, nobody but Perry. I beg your pardon, said Rochester, but I think he has a companion. Yes, said the princess at first with anger, but then what mean those words, nobody but Perry, say my lord? Because madame, replied Buckingham, peaked. Because the faithful Perry, the wandering Perry, the eternal Perry, is not, I believe, of much consequence. You are mistaken, Duke. Perry, the wandering Perry, as you call him, has always wandered in the service of my family, and the sight of that old man always gives me satisfaction. The Lady Henrietta followed the usual progress of pretty women, particularly cockatish women. She passed from caprice to contradiction. The gallant had undergone the caprice. The courtier must bend beneath the contradictory humor. Buckingham bowed, but made no reply. It is true, madame, said Rochester, bowing in his turn, that Perry is the model of servants, but, madame, he is no longer young, and we laugh only when we see cheerful objects.  Enough, my lord, said the Princess Cooley. The subject of conversation is unpleasant to me. Then, as if speaking to herself, it is really unaccountable, said she, how little regard my brother's friends have for his servants. Ah, madame, cried Buckingham, your royal highness pierces my heart with a dagger forged by your own hands. What is the meaning of that speech, which has turned so like a French madrigal duke, I do not understand it? It means, madame, that you yourself, so good, so charming, so sensible, you have laughed sometimes, smiled, I should say, at the idle prattle of that good Perry, for whom your royal highness today entertains such a marvellous susceptibility. Well, my lord, if I have forgotten myself so far, said Henrietta, you do wrong to remind me of it. And she made a sign of impatience. The good Perry wants to speak to me, I believe. Please order them to row to the shore, my lord Rochester. Rochester hastened to repeat the Princess's command, and a moment later the boat touched the bank. Let us land, gentlemen, said Henrietta, taking the arm which Rochester offered her, although Buckingham was nearer to her, and had presented his. Then Rochester, with an ill-dissembled pride which pierced the heart of the unhappy Buckingham through and through, led the Princess across the little bridge which the rowers had cast from the royal boat to the shore. Which way would your royal highness go? Rochester, you see, my lord, toward that good Perry, who is wandering, as my lord of Buckingham says, and seeking me with eyes weakened by the tears he has shed over our misfortunes. Good heavens! said Rochester, how sad your royal highness is today!  Speak for yourself, my lord! said Buckingham with vexation. For my part I displease her royal highness to such a degree that I appear absolutely nothing to her. Neither Rochester nor the Princess made any reply. Henrietta only urged her companion more quickly on. Buckingham remained behind and took advantage of this isolation to give himself up to his anger. He bit his anchor-chief so furiously that it was soon in shreds. Perry, my good Perry, said the Princess with her gentle voice. Come hither, I see you are seeking me and I am waiting for you. Ah, madame! said Rochester, coming charitably to the help of his companion, who had remained as we have said behind. If Perry cannot see your royal highness, the man who follows him is a sufficient guide, even for a blind man, for he has eyes of flame. That man is a double-lamped lantern. Lighting a very handsome martial countenance, said the Princess, determined to be as ill-natured as possible, Rochester bowed. One of those vigorous soldiers' heads seen nowhere but in France, added the Princess with the perseverance of a woman sure of impunity. Rochester and Buckingham looked at each other as much as to say, what can be the matter with her? See, my lord Buckingham, what Perry wants, said Henrietta. The young man who considered this order as a favour resumed his courage and hastened to meet Perry, who followed by D'Artagnan advanced slowly on account of his age. D'Artagnan walked slowly but nobly as D'Artagnan, doubled by the third of a million ought to walk, that is to say, without conceit or swagger, but without timidity. When Buckingham, there he eager to comply with the desire of the Princess, who had sat herself on a marble bench as if fatigued with the few steps she had gone, when Buckingham, there we say, was at a distance of only a few paces from Perry, the latter recognized him. Ah, my lord! cried he quite out of breath. Will your grace obey the king? In what, Mr. Perry? said the young man with the kind of coolness tempered by a desire to make himself agreeable to the Princess. Well, His Majesty begs your grace to present this gentleman to her royal highness, the Princess Henrietta. In the first place, what is the gentleman's name? said the Duke, heartily. D'Artagnan, as we know, was easily affronted, and the Duke of Buckingham's tone displeased him. He surveyed the courtier from head to foot, and two flashes beamed from beneath his bent brows. But after a struggle, Mr. Le Chevalier D'Artagnan, my lord, replied he quietly, pardon me, sir, that name teaches me your name, but nothing more.  I am more fortunate than you, sir, replied D'Artagnan, for I have had the honor of knowing your family, and particularly my lord Duke of Buckingham, your illustrious father. My father, said Buckingham. Well, I think I now remember. Mr. Chevalier D'Artagnan, do you say? D'Artagnan bowed. In person, said he.  Exactly, my lord Duke, I am one of those Frenchmen. Then, sir, permit me to say that it was strange my father never heard of you during his lifetime. No, monsieur, but he heard of me at the moment of his death. It was I who sent to him through the hands of the valet de Chambre of Anne of Austria, notice of the dangers which threatened him. Unfortunately, it came too late. Never mind, monsieur, said Buckingham. I understand now that, having had the intention of rendering a service to the father, you have come to claim the protection of the son. In the first place, my lord, replied D'Artagnan, flagmatically, I claim the protection of no man. His Majesty Charles II, to whom I have had the honor of rendering some services. I may tell you, my lord, my life has been passed in such occupations. King Charles II, then, who wishes to honor me with some kindness, desires me to be presented to her Royal Highness the Princess Henrietta, his sister, to whom I shall, perhaps, have the good fortune to be of service hereafter. Now, the King knew that you at this moment were with her Royal Highness and sent me to you. There is no other mystery. I ask absolutely nothing of you. And if you will not present me to her Royal Highness, I shall be compelled to do so without you and present myself. At least, sir, said Buckingham, determined to have the last word. You will not refuse me an explanation provoked by yourself. I never refuse, my lord, said D'Artagnan. As you have had relations with my father, you must be acquainted with some private details. These relations are already far removed from us, my lord, for you were not then born, and for some unfortunate diamond studs which I received from his hands and carried back to France, it is really not worthwhile awakening so many remembrances. Ah, sir, said Buckingham, warmly, going up to D'Artagnan and holding out his hand to him. It is you, then. You whom my father sought everywhere and who had a right to expect so much from us. To expect, my lord, in truth, that is my forte. All my life I have expected. At this moment the princess who was tired of not seeing the stranger approach her arose and came toward them. At least, sir, said Buckingham, you shall not wait for the presentation you claim of me. Then turning toward the princess and bowing, Madame, said the young man, the king your brother desires me to have the honor of presenting to your royal highness, Miss Ursula Chevaet D'Artagnan. In order that your royal highness may have, in case of need a firm support and a sure friend, added Perry, D'Artagnan bowed. You have still something to say, Perry? replied Henrietta, smiling upon D'Artagnan, while addressing the old servant. Yes, Madame, the king desires you to preserve religiously in your memory the name and merit of Miss D'Artagnan, to whom his majesty owes he serves, the recovery of his kingdom. Buckingham, the princess and Rochester looked at each other. That, said D'Artagnan, is another little secret of which in all probability I shall not boast to his majesty's son, as I have done to you with the respect to the diamond studs. Madame, said Buckingham, monsieur has just for the second time recalled to my memory an event which excites my curiosity to such a degree, but I shall venture to ask your permission to take him to one side for a moment, to converse in private. Do, my lord, said the princess, but restore to the sister as quickly as possible, this friend so devoted to the brother. And she took the arm of Rochester whilst Buckingham took that of D'Artagnan. Oh, tell me Chevalier, said Buckingham, all that affair of the diamonds, which nobody knows in England, not even the son of him who was the hero of it. My lord, one person alone had a right to relate all that affair as you call it, and that was your father. He thought proper to be silent. I must beg you to allow me to be so likewise. And D'Artagnan bowed like a man upon whom it was evident no entreaties could prevail. Since it is so, sir, said Buckingham, pardon my indiscretion, I beg you, and if at any time I should go into France. And he turned round to take a last look at the princess, who took but little notice of him, totally occupied as she was or appeared to be, with Rochester, Buckingham's side. Well, said D'Artagnan, I was saying that if any day I were to go to France. You will go, my lord, said D'Artagnan. I shall answer for that. And how so? Oh, I have strange powers of prediction. If I do predict anything, I am seldom mistaken. If then you do come to France. Well, then, monsieur, you, whom kings ask that valuable friendship which restores crowns to them, I will venture to beg of you a little of that great interest you took in my father. My lord, replied D'Artagnan, believe me, I shall deem myself highly honoured, if in France you remember having seen me here. And now permit. Then turning toward the princess, Madame, said he, your royal highness is a daughter of France, and in that quality I hope to see you again in Paris. One of my happy days will be that on which your royal highness shall give me any command whatever, thus proving to me that you have not forgotten the recommendations of your august brother.  Madame, said Buckingham in a subdued voice, what can a man do to obtain a similar favour from your royal highness? Dame, my lord, replied Henrietta, ask monsieur D'Artagnan, he will tell you. End of Chapter 35 Recording by John Van Stan Savannah, Georgia Chapter 36 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Ropson. This Librebox recording is in the public domain. How D'Artagnan drew, as a fairy would have done, a country seat from a deal box. The king's words regarding the wounded pride of Monk had not inspired D'Artagnan with a small portion of apprehension. The lieutenant had had, all his life, the great art of choosing his enemies, and when he had found them implacable and invincible, it was when he had not been able under any pretense to make them otherwise. But points of view change greatly in the course of a life. It is a magic lantern of which the eye of man every year changes the aspects. It results that from the last day of a year on which we saw white, to the first day of the year on which we shall see black, there is but the interval of a single night. Now, D'Artagnan, when he left Calais with his ten scamps, would have hesitated a little in attacking a Goliath, a Nebuchadnezzar, or a Hallefernes, as he would in crossing swords with a recruit, or cavilling with a landlady. Then he resembled the sparrow hawk which, when fasting, will attack a ram. Hunger is blind, but D'Artagnan satisfied. D'Artagnan rich, D'Artagnan a conqueror, D'Artagnan proud of so difficult a triumph, D'Artagnan had too much to lose not to reckon, figure by figure with probable misfortune. His thoughts were employed, therefore, all the way on the road from his presentation with one thing, and that was, how he should conciliate a man like Monk, a man whom Charles himself, kind as he was, conciliated with difficulty. For, scarcely established, the protected might again stand in need of the protector, and would consequently not refuse him such, being the case, the petty satisfaction of transporting Mr. D'Artagnan, or of confining him in one of the Middlesex prisons, or drowning him a little on his passage from Dover to Bologna. Such sorts of satisfaction kings are accustomed to render to vice-voys without disagreeable consequences. It would not be at all necessary for the king to be active in that counterparty of the play in which Monk should take his revenge. The part of the king would be confined to simply pardoning the vice-roy of Ireland, all he should undertake against D'Artagnan. Nothing more was necessary to place the conscience of the Duke of Albemarle, at rest, than a Tay-Absolvo said with a laugh, or the scrawl of Charles, the king traced at the foot of a parchment, and with these two words pronounced, and these two words written, poor D'Artagnan was forever crushed beneath the ruins of his imagination. And then, a thing sufficiently disquieting for a man with such foresight as a musketeer, he found himself alone, and even the friendship of Athos could not restore his confidence. Certainly, if the affair had only concerned a free distribution of sword-thrusts, the musketeer would have counted upon his companion, but in delicate dealings with a king, when that perhaps of an unlucky chance should arise in justification of Monk or of Charles of England. D'Artagnan knew Athos well enough to be sure he would give the best possible colouring to the loyalty of the survivor, and would content himself with shedding floods of tears on the tomb of the dead, supposing the dead to be his friend, and afterwards composing his epitaph in the most pompous superlatives. Decidedly, thought the Gascon, and this thought was the result of the reflections which he had just whispered to himself, and which we have repeated aloud. Decidedly, I must be reconciled with Mr. Monk, and acquire a proof of his perfect indifference for the past. If, and God forbid it should be so, he is still sulky and reserved in the expression of this sentiment, I shall give my money to Athos to take away with him, and remain in England just long enough to unmask him then, as I have a quick eye and a light foot. I shall notice the first hostile sign to decamp or conceal myself at the residence of my lord of Buckingham, who seems a good sort of devil at the bottom, and to whom in return for his hospitality I shall relate all that history of the diamonds, which can now compromise nobody but an old queen, who need not be ashamed, after being the wife of a miserly creature like Mazarin, of having formerly been the mistress of a handsome nobleman like Buckingham, Morde, that is the thing, and this Monk shall not get the better of me. Eh, and besides I have an idea. We know that in general, D'Artagnan was not wanting an ideas, and during this soliloquy, D'Artagnan buttoned his vest up to the chin, and nothing excited his imagination like this preparation for a combat of any kind, called a sanction by the Romans. He was quite heated when he reached the mansion of the Duke of Albemarle. He was introduced to the viceroy with a promptitude which proved that he was considered as one of the household.  My lord, said D'Artagnan with that expression of frankness which the Gascog knew so well, how to assume, my lord, I have come to ask your graces advice. Monk has closely buttoned up morally, as his antagonist was physically replied, ask my friend, and his countenance presented an expression not less open than that of D'Artagnan. My lord, in the first place, promise me secrecy and indulgence. I promise you all you wish. What's the matter? Speak. It is, my lord, that I am not quite pleased with the king. Indeed! And on what account, my dear lieutenant? Because his majesty gives way sometimes to jest, very compromising for his servants, and jesting, my lord, is a weapon that seriously wounds men of the sword, as we are.  Well, now for my part, said he with the most natural air possible. I am not an enemy of jesting, my dear Mr. D'Artagnan. My soldiers will tell you that, even many times in camp, I listened very indifferently and with a certain pleasure, to the satirical songs which the army of Lambert passed into mine, and which certainly would have caused the ears of a general more susceptible than I am to tingle.  I know you have been for a long time placed above human miseries, but there are jests and jests of a certain kind, which have the power of irritating me beyond expression. May I inquire what kind, my friend? Such as are directed against my friends, or against people I respect, my lord. Monk made a slight movement which D'Artagnan perceived. Hey, and in what? asked Monk. In what can the stroke of a pin which scratches another tickle your skin? Answer me that. My lord, I can explain it to you in one single sentence. It concerns you. Monk advanced a single step toward D'Artagnan. Concerns me? said he. Yes, and this is what I cannot explain. But that arises perhaps from my want of knowledge of his character. How can the king of the heart digest about a man who has rendered him so many in such great services? How can one understand that he should amuse himself in setting by the ears a lion, like you, with a net like me? I cannot conceive that in any way, said Monk. But so it is. The king, who owed me a reward, might have rewarded me as a soldier, without contriving that history of the ransom, which affects you, my lord. No, said Monk, laughing. It does not affect me in any way. I can assure you. Not as regards me I can understand. You know me, my lord. I am so discreet that the grave would appear a babbler compared to me. But do you understand, my lord? No, replied Monk, with persistent obstinacy. If another knew the secret which I know. What secret? Hey, my lord, why, that unfortunate secret of Newcastle. Oh, the million of Miss Sherlockoptil Affair! No, my lord, no. The enterprise made upon your gracious person. It was well-plague, Chevalier. That is all, and no more is to be said about it. You are a soldier, both brave and cunning, which proves that you unite the qualities of Fabius and Hannibal. You employed your means, force, and cunning. There is nothing to be said against that. I ought to have been on guard. Ah, yes. I know, my lord, and I expected nothing less from your partiality, so that if it were only the abduction itself, that would be nothing. But there are... What? The circumstances of that abduction. What circumstances? Oh, you know very well what I mean, my lord. No, curse me if I do. There is, in truth, it is difficult to speak it. There is? Well, there is that devil of a box. Monk colored visibly. Well, I have forgotten it. Deal box, continued D'Artagnan, with holes for the nose and mouth. In truth, my lord, all the rest was well. But the box, the box, that was really a coarse joke, Monk fidgeted about in his chair. And notwithstanding my having done that, resumed D'Artagnan. I, a soldier of fortune, it was quite simple because, by the side of that action, a little inconsiderate I admit, which I committed, but which the gravity of the case may excuse, I am circumspect and reserved. Oh, said Monk, believe me, I know you well, Mr. D'Artagnan, and I appreciate you. D'Artagnan never took his eyes off Monk, studying all which passed in the mind of the general as he prosecuted his idea. But it does not concern me, resumed he. Well, then, whom does it concern? said Monk, who began to grow a little impatient. It relates to the king, who will never restrain his tongue. Well, and suppose he should say all he knows? said Monk with a degree of hesitation. My lord, replied D'Artagnan, do not disemble, I implore you, with a man who speaks so frankly as I do. You have a right to feel your susceptibility excited, however benignant it may be.  It is not a place of a serious man, it is not a place of a serious man, I said, to be shut up in a box like some freak of natural history. For you must understand it would make all your enemies ready to burst with laughter, and you are so great, so noble, so generous, that you must have many enemies. This secret is enough to set half the human race laughing if you were represented in that box. It is not decent to have the second personage in the kingdom laughed at. Monk was quite out of countenance at the idea of seeing himself represented in his box. Ridicule, as D'Artagnan had judiciously foreseen, acted upon him in a manner which neither the chances of war, the aspirations of ambition nor the fear of death had been able to do. Good, thought the Gascon, he has frightened. I am safe. Oh, as to the king, said Monk, fear nothing, my dear Mr. D'Artagnan, the king will not jest with Monk by assure you. The momentary flash of his eye was noticed by D'Artagnan. Monk lowered his tone immediately. The king, continued he, is of too noble a nature. The king's heart is too high to allow him to wish ill to those who do him good. Oh, certainly, cried D'Artagnan, I am entirely of your grace's opinion with regard to his heart, but not as to his head. It is good, but it is trifling. The king will not trifle with Monk. Be assured. Then you are quite at ease, my lord. On that side, at least. Yes, perfectly. Oh, I understand you. You are at ease as far as the king is concerned. I have told you I was. But you are not so much so on my account. I thought I had told you that I had faith in your loyalty and discretion. No doubt, no doubt. But you must remember one thing. What is that? That I was not alone, that I had companions, and what companions? Oh, yes, I know them. And unfortunately, my lord, they know you too. Well? Well, they are yonder, at Bologna, waiting for me. And you fear? Yes, I fear that in my absence par bleu, if I were near them I could answer for their silence. Was I not right in saying that the danger, if there was any danger, would not come from his majesty, however disposed he may be to jest, but from your companions as you say. To be laughed at by a king may be tolerable, but by horse boys and scamps of the army, damn it! Yes, I understand that would be unbearable. That is why, my lord, I came to say, do you not think it would be better for me to set out for France as soon as possible? Certainly, if you think your presence would impose silence upon those scoundrels. Oh, I am sure of that, my lord. Your presence will not prevent the report from spreading, if the tale has already transpired. Oh, it has not transpired, my lord. I will wager. At all events, be assured I am determined upon one thing. What is that? To blow out the brains of the first who shall have propagated that report, and of the first who has heard it, after which I shall return to England to seek an asylum and perhaps employment with your grace. Oh, come back, come back!  Listen to me, Mr. D'Artagnan, replied Monk.  You deserve all the good fortune this world can bring you.  Oh, my lord, that is impossible. At present I have a sacred duty to perform. I have to watch over your glory. I have to prevent a low jester from tarnishing in the eyes of our contemporaries. Who knows, in the eyes of posterity, the splendor of your name. Of posterity, Mr. D'Artagnan? Doubtless. It is necessary, as regards posterity, that all the details of that history should remain a mystery, for admit that this unfortunate history of the deal-box should spread, and it should be asserted that you had not re-established the King voyally, and of your own free will, but in consequence of a compromise entered into at Shvinagon, between you two. It would be vain for me to declare how the thing came about, for though I know I should not believe it, it would be said that I had received my part of the cake, and was eating it. Monk knitted his brow. Glory, honour, probity, said he. You are but empty words. Mist, replied D'Artagnan, nothing but mist, through which nobody can see clearly. Well, then go to France, my dear Mr. D'Artagnan, said Monk. Go, and to render England more attractive and agreeable to you, accept a remembrance of me. What now? thought D'Artagnan. I have on the banks of the Clyde, continued Monk, a little house and a grove, cottage, as it is called here. To this house are attached a hundred acres of land, except it as a souvenir. Oh, my lord, faith, you will be there in your own home, and that will be the place of refuge you spoke of just now. For me to be obliged to your lordship to such an extent, really, your grace, I am ashamed. Not at all, not at all, monsieur, replied Monk with an arch-smile. It is I who shall be obliged to you, and, pressing the hand of the musketeer, I shall go up and draw up the deed of gift. And he left the room. D'Artagnan looked at him as he went out with something of a pensive and even an agitated air. After all, said he, he is a brave man. It is only a sad reflection that it is from fear of me and not affection that he acts thus. Well, I shall endeavour that affection may follow. Then, after an instance deeper reflection, said he, to what purpose? He is an Englishman. And he in his turn went out, a little confused after the combat. So, said he, I am a land-owner. But how the devil am I to share the cottage with planchette? Unless I give him the land and I take the chateau, whether he takes the house, and I… Nonsense! Monsieur Monk will never allow me to share a house he has inhabited with a grosser. He is too proud for that. Besides, why should I say anything about it to him? It was not with the money of the company I have acquired that property. It was with my mother-wit alone. It is all mine then. So, now I will go and find Athos. And he directed his steps toward the dwelling of the Comte de l'affaire. End of Chapter 36, Recording by John Van Stan, Savannah, Georgia Chapter 37 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. How D'Artagnan regulated the assets of the company before he established its liabilities. Decidedly, said D'Artagnan to himself, I have struck a good vein. That star which shines once in the life of every man, which shown for Job and Eris, the most unfortunate of the Jews and the poorest of the Greeks, has come at last to shine on me. I will commit no folly. I will take advantage of it. It comes quite late enough to find me reasonable. He supp'd that evening in very good humour with his friend Athos. He said nothing to him about the expected donation, but he could not forbid questioning his friend while eating about country produce, sowing, and planting. Athos replied complacently as he always did. His idea was that D'Artagnan wished to become a landowner, only he could not help regretting more than once the absence of the lively humour and amusing sallies of the cheerful companion of former days. In fact, D'Artagnan was so absorbed that, with his knife, he took advantage of the grease left at the bottom of his plate to trace ciphers and make additions of surprising rotundity. That order, or rather license for their embarkation, arrived at Athos's lodgings that evening. While this paper was remitted to the compt, another messenger brought to D'Artagnan a little bundle of parchments, adorned with all the seals employed and setting off property deeds in England. Athos surprised him turning over the leaves of these different acts which established the transmission of property. The prudent monk, others would say the generous monk, had commuted the donation into a sale and acknowledged the receipt of the sum of fifteen thousand crowns at the price of the property seated. The messenger was gone. D'Artagnan still continued reading. Athos watched him with a smile. D'Artagnan, surprising one of those smiles over his shoulder, put the bundle in its wrapper. I beg your pardon, said Athos. Oh, not at all, my friend! replied the lieutenant. I shall tell you. No.  Orders are things so sacred that to one's brother, one's father, the person charged with such orders should never open his mouth. Thus I, who speak to you, and love you more tenderly than brother, father, or all the world. Except your Raul. I shall love Raul still better when he shall be a man, and I shall have seen him develop himself in all the phases of his character and his actions, as I have seen you, my friend. You said then that you had an order likewise, and that you would not communicate it to me. Yes, my dear D'Artagnan. The Gaskon sighed. There was a time, said he, when you would have placed that order open upon the table, saying, D'Artagnan, read this scrawl to Porthos Aramis and to me. That is true. Oh, that was the time of youth. Confidence, the generous season when the blood commands, when it is warmed by feeling. Well, Athos, will you allow me to tell you? Speak, my friend. That delightful time, that generous season, that ruling by warm blood, were all very fine things, no doubt. But I do not regret them at all. It is absolutely like the period of studies. I have constantly met with fools who would boast of the days of pensomes, ferals, and crusts of dry bread. It is singular, but I never loved all that. For my part, however active and sober I might be—you know if I was so, Athos—however simple I might appear in my clothes, I would not the less have preferred the braveries and embroideries of Porthos to my little perforated cassock, which gave passage to the wind in winter and the sun in summer. I should always, my friend, mistrust him, who would pretend to prefer evil to good. Now, in times past, all went wrong with me, and every month found a fresh hole in my cassock and in my skin, a gold crown less in my poor purse, of that extricable time of small beer and seesaw. I regret absolutely nothing, nothing, nothing save our friendship, for within me I have a heart, and it is as a miracle that heart has not been dried up by the wind of poverty which passed through the holes of my cloak, or pierced by the swords of all shapes which passed through the holes in my poor flesh. Do not regret our friendship, said Athos. That will only die with ourselves. Friendship is composed above all things, of memories and habits, and if you have just now made a little satire upon mine, because I hesitate to tell you the nature of my mission to France. Who, I? Oh, heavens, if you knew, my dear friend, how indifferent all the missions of the world will henceforth become to me, and he laid his hand upon the parchment in his vest pocket. Athos rose from the table and called the host in order to pay the reckoning. Since I have known you, my friend, said D'Artagnan, I have never discharged the reckoning. Porthos often did.  I am now rich, and should like to try if it is heroic to pay. Do so, said Athos, returning his purse to his pocket. The two friends then directed their steps toward the port, not, however, without D'Artagnan's frequently turning round to watch the transportation of his dear crowns. Knight had just spread her thick veil over the yellow waters of the Thames. They heard those noises of casks and pulleys, the preliminaries of preparing to sail, which had so many times made the hearts of the musketeers beat when the dangers of the sea were the least of those they were going to face. This time they were to embark on board a large vessel which awaited them at Gravesend, and Charles II, always delicate in small matters, had sent one of his yachts, with twelve men of his scotch guard to do the honour to the ambassadors he was sending to France. At midnight the yacht had deposited its passengers on board the vessel, and at eight o'clock in the morning the vessel landed, the ambassador and his friend, on the wharf at Boulogne. Whilst the comped, with Grimaud, was busy procuring horses to go straight to Paris, D'Artagnan hastened to the hostel re-wear, according to his orders, his little army was to wait for him. These gentlemen were at breakfast upon oysters, fish, and spiced brandy when D'Artagnan appeared. They were all very gay, but not one of them had yet exceeded the bounds of reason. A hurrah of joy welcomed the general. Here I am, said D'Artagnan. The campaign is ended. I am come to bring to each his supplement of pay as agreed upon. Their eyes sparkled. I will lay a wager there are not. At this moment a hundred crowns remaining in the purse of the richest among you. That is true! cried they in chorus. Gentlemen, said D'Artagnan, then this is the last order. The treaty of commerce has been concluded thanks to our coup de man which made us masters of the most skillful financier of England. For now I am at liberty to confess to you that the man we had to carry off was the treasurer of a general monk. This word treasurer produced a certain effect on his army. D'Artagnan observed that the eyes of Menoveil alone did not evince perfect faith. This treasurer, he continued, I conveyed to a neutral territory, Holland. I forced him to sign the treaty. I have even reconducted him to Newcastle, and as he was obliged to be satisfied with our proceedings toward him, the deal coughed for being always carried without jolting, and being lined softly. I asked for a gratification for you. Here it is! He threw a respectable looking purse upon the cloth, and all involuntarily stretched out their hands. One moment, my lambs, said D'Artagnan, if there are profits, there are also charges. murmured they. We are about to find ourselves, my friends, in a position that would not be tenable for people without brains. I speak plainly. We are between the gallows and the Bastille. Ho-ho! said the chorus. That is easily understood. It was necessary to explain to General Monk the disappearance of his treasurer. I waited for that purpose till the very unhoped-for moment of the restoration of King Charles II, who was one of my friends. The army exchanged a glance of satisfaction in reply to the sufficiently proud look of D'Artagnan. The King being restored. I restored to Monk his man of business. A little plucked, it is true. But, in short, I restored him. Now, General Monk, when he pardoned me, for he has pardoned me, could not help repeating these words to me which I charge every one of you to engrave deeply there between the eyes under the vault of the cranium. Monsieur, the joke has been a good one, but I don't naturally like jokes. If ever a word of what you have done, you understand me, Menoveal. Escapes from your lips, or the lips of your companions I have in my government of Scotland and Ireland, seven hundred and forty-one wooden gibbets of strong oak clamped with iron and freshly greased every week. I will make a present of one of these gibbets to each of you, and observe well, Monsieur D'Artagnan. Added he. Observe it also, Monsieur Menoveal. I shall still have seven hundred and thirty left for my private pleasure, and still further. Ah-ha! said the auxiliaries. Is there more still? A mere trifle. Monsieur D'Artagnan, I send to the King of France the treaty in question, with a request that he will cast into the Bastille provisionally, and then send to me all who have taken part in this expedition, and that is a prayer with which the King will certainly comply. A cry of terror broke from all corners of the table. There, there, there! said D'Artagnan. This brave Monsieur Monk has forgotten one thing, and that is, he does not know the name of any one of you. I alone know you, and it is not I. You may well believe who will betray you. Why should I? As for you, I cannot suppose you will be silly enough to denounce yourselves, for then the King to spare himself the expense of feeding and lodging you will send you off to Scotland, where the seven hundred and forty one gibbets are to be found. That is all, messieurs. I have not another word to add to what I have had the honour to tell you. I am sure you have understood me perfectly well. Have you not, Monsieur Menneville? Perfectly. replied the latter. Now, the crowns! said D'Artagnan. Shut the doors! he cried, and opened the bag upon the table from which rolled several fine gold crowns. Everyone made a movement toward the floor. Gently! cried D'Artagnan, let no one stoop, and then I shall not be out in my reckoning. He found it all right, gave fifty of those splendid crowns to each man, and received as many benedictions as he bestowed pieces. Now, said he, if it were possible for you to reform a little, if you could become good and honest citizens. That is rather difficult, said one of the troop. What then, Captain? said another. Because I might be able to find you again, and who knows what other good fortune? He made a sign to Menneville, who listened to all he said with a composed air. Menneville, said he, come with me. Adieu, my brave fellows, I need not warn you to be discreet. Menneville followed him, whilst the salutations of the auxiliaries were mingled with the sweet sound of the money clinking in their pockets. Menneville, said D'Artagnan, when they were once in the street. You were not my dupe, beware of being so. You did not appear to me to have any fear of the gibbets of Monk, or the best steal of his majesty, King Louis XIV, but you will do me the favour of being afraid of me.  I have absolution from our holy Father the Pope in my pocket. I assure you, I know absolutely nothing, my dear Mr. D'Artagnan, and that your words have all been to me so many articles of faith. I was quite sure you were an intelligent fellow, said the musketeer. I have tried you for a length of time. These fifty gold crowns which I give you above the rest will prove the esteem I have for you. Take them. Thanks, Mr. D'Artagnan, said Menneville. With that sum you can really become an honest man, replied D'Artagnan in the most serious tone possible. It would be disgraceful for a mind like yours, and a name you no longer dare to bear, to sink forever under the rust of an evil life. Become a gallant man, Menneville, and live for a year upon those hundred gold crowns. It is a good provision, twice the pay of a high officer. In a year come to me, and more dear, I will make something of you." Menneville swore, as his comrades had sworn, that he would be as silent as the grave. And yet someone must have spoken, and as certainly it was not one of the nine companions, and quite certainly it was not Menneville. It must have been D'Artagnan, who in his quality of a gas-gon had his tongue very near to his lips. For in short, if it were not he, who could it be? And how can it be explained that the secret of the deal-coffer pierced with holes should come to our knowledge, and in so complete a fashion, that we have, as has been seen, related the history of it in all its most minute details. Details which, besides, throw a light as new as unexpected upon all that portion of the history of England, which has been left up to the present day completely in darkness by the historian of our neighbours. Chapter 38 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. In which it is seen that the French grocer had already been established in the seventeenth century. His accounts once settled, and his recommendations made. D'Artagnan thought of nothing but returning to Paris as soon as possible. Athos, on his part, was anxious to reach home and to rest a little. However whole the character and the man may remain after the fatigues of a voyage, the traveller perceives with pleasure at the close of the day. Even though the day has been a fine one, that night is approaching, and will bring a little sleep with it. So from Belon to Paris, jogging on side by side, the two friends in some degree absorbed each in his individual thoughts, converse of nothing sufficiently interesting for us to repeat to our readers. Each of them given up to his personal reflections and constructing his future after his own fashion, was above all anxious to abridge the distance by speed. Athos and D'Artagnan arrived at the gates of Paris on the evening of the fourth day after leaving Belon. Where are you going, my friend? asked Athos. I shall direct my course straight to my hotel. And I straight to my partners. To Planchets? Yes, at the peon door. Well, but shall we not meet again? If you remain in Paris, yes, for I shall stay here. No. After having embraced Raoul, with whom I have appointed a meeting at my hotel, I shall set out immediately for l'affaire. Well, adieu, then, dear and true friend. Au revoir. I should rather say, for why can you not come and live with me at Bois?  I shall purchase for you, if you like, a handsome estate in the vicinity of Chevénie or of Bressieux. On the one side you will have the finest woods in the world which join those of Chambord. On the other, admirable marshes.  You will find pheasants, rail and teal, without counting sunsets and excursions on the water, to make you fancy yourself Nimrod and Apollo themselves. While awaiting the purchase, you can live at l'affaire, and we shall go together to fly our hawks among the vines, as Louis XIII used to do. That is a quiet amusement for old fellows like us. D'Artagnan took the hands of Athos in his own. Dear Count, said he, I shall say neither yes nor no. Let me pass in Paris the time necessary for the regulation of my affairs, and accustom myself by degrees to the heavy and glittering idea which is beating in my brain and dazzles me. I am rich, you see, and from this moment until the time when I shall have acquired the habit of being rich, I know myself, and I shall be an insupportable animal now. I am not enough of a fool to wish to appear to have lost my wits before a friend like you, Athos. The cloak is handsome, the cloak is richly gilded, but it is new, and it does not seem to fit me. Athos smiled. So be it, said he, but apropos of this cloak, dear D'Artagnan, will you allow me to offer you a little advice? Yes, willingly. You will not be angry. Proceed. When wealth comes to a man late in life or all at once, that man in order not to change must most likely become a miser. That is to say, not spend much more money than he had done before, or else become a prodigal, and contract so many debts as to become poor again. Oh, but what you say looks very much like a sophism, my dear philosophic friend. I do not think so. Will you become a miser? No, pardon you, I was one already, having nothing, let us change. Then be prodigal. Still less, more to, debts terrify me, creditors appear to me by anticipation like those devils who turn the damned upon the grid-irons, and as patience is not my dominant virtue, I am always tempted to thrash those devils. You are the wisest man I know, and stand in no need of advice from anyone. Great fools must be they who think they have anything to teach you, but are we not at the Rue Saint-Honor? Yes, dear Athos. Look yonder, on the left that small long white house is the hotel where I lodge. You may observe that it has but two stories. I occupy the first, the other is led to an officer whose duties oblige him to be absent eight or nine months in the year, so I am in that house as in my own home without the expense. Oh, how well you manage, Athos, what order and what liberality they are what I wish to unite, but of what use trying? That comes from birth and cannot be acquired.  Well, adieu, dear friend, apropos. Remember me to Master Planchett, he was always a bright fellow. And a man of heart, too, Athos. Adieu. And they separated. During all this conversation, D'Artagnan had not for a moment lost sight of a certain pack-horse, in whose panniers, under some hay, were spread these hocages, messenger bags, with the portmanteau. Nine o'clock was striking at St. Mary, Planchett's helps were shutting up his shop. D'Artagnan stopped the postillian who rode the pack-horse at the corner of the Rue de Lombard under a penthouse, and calling one of Planchett's boys, he desired him not only to take care of the two horses, but to watch the postillian, after which he entered the shop of the grocer, who had just finished supper, and who, in his little private room, was, with a degree of anxiety, consulting the calendar on which every evening he scratched out the day that was passed.  "'Oh, good lord!' cried Planchett. The worthy grocer could say no more. He had just perceived his partner. D'Artagnan entered with a bent back and a dull eye. The Gascon had an idea with regard to Planchett. "'Good God!' thought the grocer, looking earnestly at the traveler. "'He looks sad.' The musketeer sat down. "'My dear Mr. D'Artagnan,' said Planchett, with a horrible palpitation of the heart. "'Here you are. And your health?' "'Tolerably good, Planchett. Tolerably good,' said D'Artagnan with a profound sigh. "'You have not been wounded, I hope.' "'Few.' "'Ah, I see,' continued Planchett, more and more alarmed. "'The expedition has been a trying one.' "'Yes,' said D'Artagnan. A shudder ran down Planchett's back. "'I should like to have something to drink,' said the musketeer, raising his head piteously. Planchett ran to the cupboard and poured out to D'Artagnan some wine in a large glass. D'Artagnan examined the bottle. "'What wine is that?' asked he. "'Alas, that which you prefer, monsieur,' said Planchett. "'That good old Andrew wine, which was one day nearly costing us all so dear.' "'Ah,' replied D'Artagnan with a melancholy smile.  "'Come, I have been a soldier and consequently have some courage. Do not make me linger, dear monsieur D'Artagnan. Our money is lost! Is it not?' Before he answered, D'Artagnan took his time, and that appeared an age to the poor grosser. Nevertheless he did nothing but turn about on his chair. "'And if that were the case,' said he, slowly moving his head up and down. "'If that were the case, what would you say, my dear friend?' Planchett, from being pale, turned yellow. It might have been thought he was going to swallow his tongue so full became his throat, so red were his eyes. "'Twenty thousand lever,' murmured he.  Planchett drew up a sigh from the deepest cavities of his breast. "'Well,' said he, "'I see how it is. Let us be men. It is all over, is it not? The principal thing is, monsieur, that your life is safe.' "'Doubtless. Doubtless. Life is something. But I am ruined.' "'Good dear, monsieur,' said Planchett. "'If it is so, we must not despair for that. You shall become a grosser with me. I shall take you for my partner. We will share the profits. And if there should be no more profits, well, why then we shall share the almonds, raisins, and prunes, and we will nibble together the last quarter of Dutch cheese.' D'Artagnan could hold out no longer. "'More due,' cried he with great emotion. "'That was a brave fellow on my honour, Planchett. You have not been playing a part, have you? You have not seen the pack-horse with the bags under the shed yonder?' "'What horse? What bags?' said Planchett, whose trembling heart began to suggest that D'Artagnan was mad. "'Why, the English bags. More due,' said D'Artagnan, all radiant, quite transfigured. "'Ah, good God!' articulated Planchett, drawing back before the dazzling fire of his looks. "'Himbisil!' cried D'Artagnan. "'You think me mad. More due. On the contrary, never was my head more clear, or my heart more joyous. To the bags, Planchett, to the bags!' "'But to what bags? Good heavens!' D'Artagnan pushed Planchett towards the window under the shed yonder. "'Don't you see a horse?' "'Yes.' "'Don't you see how his back is laden?' "'Yes. Yes.' "'Don't you see your lad talking with the postillian?' "'Yes. Yes. Yes.'  Call him.' "'Em-don! Em-don!' fussifrated Planchett from the window. "'Bring the horse,' shouted D'Artagnan. "'Bring the horse,' screamed Planchett. "'Now give ten crowns to the postillian,' said D'Artagnan, in the tone he would have employed in commanding a maneuver. Two lads to bring up the two first bags. Two to bring up the two last. "'And move. More due. Be lively!' Planchett rushed down the stairs, as if the devil had been at his heels. A moment later the lads ascended the staircase, bending beneath their burden. D'Artagnan sent them off to their garrets, carefully closed the door, and addressing Planchett, who, in his turn, looked a little wild. "'Now, we are by ourselves,' said he, and he spread upon the floor a large cover, and emptied the first bag into it. Planchett did the same with the second. Then D'Artagnan, all in a tremble, let out the precious bowels of the third with a knife. When Planchett heard the provoking sound of the silver and gold, when he saw bubbling out of the bags the shining crowns which glittered like fish from the sweep net, when he felt himself plunging his hands up to the elbow and that still rising tide of yellow and white coins, a giddiness seized him, and like a man struck by lightning, he sank heavily down upon the enormous heap, which his weight caused to roll away in all directions. Planchett, suffocated with joy, had lost his senses.  "'Good heavens! Good heavens! Good heavens!' said Planchett, wiping his moustache and beard. At that time, as they do now, grocers wore the cavalier moustache and the lasquinet beard. Only the money-baths, already rare in those days, have become almost unknown now. "'More do!' said D'Artagnan.   Miss D'Artagnan, the lovely sum!' I confessed that half an hour ago. I regretted that I had to give you so much. But now I no longer regret it. Thou art a brave grocer, Planchett. There. Let us close our accounts for, as they say, short reckonings make long friends.' "'Oh, rather, in the first place, tell me the whole history,' said Planchett. "'That must be better than the money.' "'Muffois!' said D'Artagnan, stroking his moustache. "'I can't say no, and if ever the historian turns to me for information, he will be able to say he has not dipped his bucket into a dry spring. Listen, then, Planchett. I will tell you all about it.' "'And I shall build piles of crowns,' said Planchett. "'Begin, my dear master.' "'Well, this is it,' said D'Artagnan, drawing breath. "'And that is it,' said Planchett, picking up his first handful of crowns. "'End of Chapter thirty-eight, recording by John Van Stans of Anna, Georgia.' Chapter thirty-nine of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume three, part one by Alexander de Ma, translated by William Robson. This leap of oxycording is in the public domain. Mazarin's gaming party. In a large chamber of the Palais Royale, hung with a dark-colored velvet which threw into strong relief the gilded frames of a great number of magnificent pictures on the evening of the arrival of the two Frenchmen, the whole court was assembled before the alcove of Monsieur le Cardinal de Mazarin, who gave a card party to the king and queen. A small screen separated three prepared tables. At one of these tables the king and the two queens were seated. Louis XIV placed opposite to the young queen his wife, smiled upon her with an expression of real happiness. Anne of Austria held the cards against the cardinal, and her daughter-in-law assisted her in the game when she was not engaged in smiling at her husband. As for the cardinal who was lying on his bed with a weary and care-worn face, his cards were held by the comptest de soissons, and he watched them with an incessant look of interest and cupidity. The cardinal's face had been painted by Benouane, but the rouge which glowed only on his cheeks threw into stronger contrast the sickly pallor of his countenance and the shining yellow of his brow. His eyes alone acquired a more brilliant luster from this auxiliary, and upon those sick man's eyes were, from time to time, turned the uneasy looks of the king, the queen, and the couriers. The fact is that the two eyes of the Signor Mazarin were the stars, more or less brilliant in which the France of the seventeenth century read its destiny every evening and every morning. Monsignor neither won nor lost. He was therefore neither gay nor sad.  To win would have been dangerous, because Mazarin would have changed his indifference into an ugly grimace. To lose would likewise have been dangerous, because she must have cheated, and the Infanta who watched her game would doubtless have exclaimed against her partiality for Mazarin. Profiting by this calm, the couriers were chatting. When not in a bad humour, Mishir Mazarin was a very debonair prince, and he who prevented nobody from singing, provided they paid, was not tyrant enough to prevent people from talking, provided they made up their minds to lose. They were therefore chatting. At the first table the king's younger brother Philip, Duke d'Angus, was admiring his handsome face in the glass of a box. His favourite, the Chevalier de Lorraine, leaning over the back of the prince's chair, was listening with secret envy to the comp de Guiche, another of Philip's favourites, who was relating in choice terms the various vistasitudes of fortune of the royal adventurer Charles II. He told, as so many fabulous events, all the history of his peregrinations in Scotland, and his terrors when the enemy's party was so close on his track, of nights spent in trees, and days spent in hunger and combats. By degrees, the fate of the unfortunate king interested his auditor so greatly that the play languished even at the royal table, and the young king, with a pensive look and downcast eye, followed without appearing to give any attention to it, the smallest details of this odyssey very picturesquely related by the comp de Guiche. The comp test the soissons interrupted the narrator. Confess count, you are inventing. Madam, I am repeating like a parrot all the stories related to me by different Englishmen. To my shame I am compelled to say I am as exact as a copy. Charles II would have died before he could have endured all that. Louis XIV raised his intelligent and proud head. Madam, said he in a grave tone, still partaking something of the timid child. Monsieur Le Cardinal will tell you that during my minority the affairs of France were in jeopardy, and that if I had been older and obliged to take sword in hand it would sometimes have been for the evening meal. Thanks to God! said the Cardinal who spoke for the first time. Your Majesty exaggerates, and your supper has always been already with the debt of your servants. The king coloured. Oh! cried Philip inconsiderately, from his place and without ceasing to admire himself. I recollect once at Malune the supper was laid for nobody, and the king ate two-thirds of a slice of bread, and abandoned to me the other third. The whole assembly, seeing Mesodine's smile began to laugh. Courtiers flattered kings with the remembrance of past distresses, as with the hopes of future good fortune. It is not to be denied that the crown of France has always remained firm upon the head of its kings. Anne of Austria hastened to say, and that it has fallen off of that of the king of England, and when by chance that crown oscillated a little, for there are throne-quakes as well as earth-quakes. Every time I say that rebellion threatened it, a good of victory restored tranquility. Weed the few gems added to the crown, said Mesodine. The comp de Guiche was silent. The king composed his countenance, and Mesodine exchanged looks with Anne of Austria, as if to thank her for her intervention. It is of no consequence, said Philip, smoothing his hair. My cousin Charles is not handsome, but he is very brave and fought like a landsknecht, and if he continues to fight thus, no doubt he will finish by gaining a battle like Raccroy. He has no soldiers, interrupted the Chevalier de Lorraine. The king of Holland, his ally, will give him some. I would willingly have given him some if I had been king of France. Louis XIV blushed excessively. Mesodine affected to be more attentive to his game than ever. By this time resumed the comp de Guiche. The fortune of this unhappy prince has decided. If he has been deceived by monk, he is ruined. Imprisonment, perhaps death, will finish what exile, battles, and privations have commenced. Mesodine's brow became clouded. Is it certain, said Louis XIV, that his majesty Charles II has quitted the haig? Quite certain, your majesty, replied the young man. My father has received the letter containing all the details. It is even known that the king has landed at Dover. Some fishermen saw him entering the port. The rest is still a mystery. Louis XIV colored again. That was the third time within an hour. Ask my lord Cardinal, replied he in a tone which made Mesodine, Anne of Austria, and everybody else open their eyes. That means my son, said Anne of Austria, laughing, that the king does not like affairs of state to be talked of out of the council. Philip received the reprimand with good grace, and bowed, first smiling at his brother and then his mother. But Mesodine saw from the corner of his eye that a group was about to be formed in the corner of the room, and that the duke d'en jus, with the comp de guiche and the Chevalier de Lorraine, prevented from talking aloud, might say in a whisper what it was not convenient should be said. He was beginning then to dart at them glances full of mistrust and uneasiness, inviting Anne of Austria to throw perturbation in the midst of the unlawful assembly. When suddenly Benouane, entering from behind the tapestry of the bedroom, whispered in the ear of Mesodine, Monsignor, an envoy from his majesty, the king of England! Mesodine could not help exhibiting a slight emotion, which was perceived by the king. To avoid being indiscreet, rather than appear useless, Louis XIV rose immediately in approaching his eminence, wished him good night. All the assembly had risen with a great noise of rolling of chairs and tables being pushed away. Let everybody depart by degrees, said Mesodine in a whisper to Louis XIV, and be so good as to excuse me for a few minutes. I am going to dispatch an affair about which I wish to converse with your majesty this very evening. And the queens, asked Louis XIV, and Monsieur la Tuctange, said his eminence. At the same time he turned round in his roya, the curtains of which, in falling, concealed the bed. The cardinal, nevertheless, did not lose sight of the conspirators. Said he in a fretful voice whilst putting on behind the curtain his dressing-gown with the assistance of Benouane. I am here, my lord. Said the young man as he approached. Take my cards. You are lucky. Win a little money for me of these gentlemen. Yes, my lord. The young man sat down at the table from which the king withdrew to talk with the two queens. A serious game was commenced between the Comte and several rich courtiers. In the meantime, Philip was discussing the questions of dress with the Chevalier de la Reine, and they had ceased to hear the rustling of the cardinal's silk robe from behind the curtain. His eminence had followed Benouane into the closet adjoining the bedroom. End of Chapter 39 Recording by John Van Stan Savannah, Georgia Chapter 40 of the D'Artagnan Romances Volume 3 Part 1 by Alexander Dumas Translated by William Robson This LibriVox recording is in the public domain An Affair of State The cardinalon passing into his cabinet found the Comte l'affaire, who was waiting for him engaged in admiring a very fine Raphael placed over a sideboard covered with plate. His eminence came in softly, lightly, and silently as a shadow, and surprised the countenance of the Comte as he was accustomed to do, pretending to divine by the simple expression of the face of his interlocutor what would be the result of the conversation. By this time, Masoudine was foiled in his expectation. He read nothing upon the face of Athos, not even the respect he was accustomed to see on all faces. Athos was dressed in black with a simple lacing of silver. He wore the Holy Ghost, the Garter, and the Golden Fleece. Three orders of such importance that a king alone, or else a player, could wear them all at once. Masoudine rummaged a long time in his somewhat troubled memory to recall the name he ought to give to this icy figure, but he did not succeed. I am told, said he at length, you have the message from England for me. And he sat down dismissing Ben-Huann, who in his quality of secretary was getting his pen ready. On the part of His Majesty the King of England, yes, your eminence. You speak very good French for an Englishman, monsieur, said Masoudine graciously, looking through his fingers at the Holy Ghost, Garter, and Golden Fleece, but more particularly at the face of the messenger. I am not an Englishman, but a Frenchman, monsieur Le Cardinal, replied Athos. It is remarkable that the King of England should choose a Frenchman for his ambassador. It is an excellent augury. Your name, monsieur, if you please. Compte l'affaire, replied Athos, bowing more slightly than the ceremonial and pride of the all-powerful minister required. Masoudine bent his shoulders as if to say, I do not know that name. Athos did not alter his courage. And you come, monsieur, continued Masoudine, to tell me. I come on the part of His Majesty the King of Great Britain to announce to the King of France Masoudine frowned. To announce to the King of France continued Athos imperturbably. The happy restoration of His Majesty Charles II to the throne of his ancestors. This shade did not escape his cunning eminence. Masoudine was too much a custom-demand kind not to see in the cold and almost haughty politeness of Athos an index of hostility which was not of the temperature of that hot-house called a court. You have powers, I suppose. Asked Masoudine in a short, quereless tone. Yes, Monsignor. And the word Monsignor came so painfully from the lips of Athos that it might be said it skinned them. Athos took from an embroidered velvet bag which he carried under his doublet a dispatch. The cardinal held out his hand for it. Your pardon, Monsignor, said Athos. My dispatch is for the King. Since you are a Frenchman, monsieur, you ought to know the position of a prime minister at the court of France. There was a time, replied Athos, when I occupied myself with the importance of prime ministers, but I have formed long ago a resolution to treat no longer with any but the King. Then, monsieur, said Masoudine, who began to be irritated, you will now receive the minister, nor the King. Masoudine rose. Athos replaced his dispatch in its bag, bowed gravely, and made several steps toward the door. This coolness exasperated Masoudine. What a strange diplomatic proceedings are these, cried he. Have we returned to the times when Cromwell sent us bullies in the guise of charges deferred?  Monsieur, said Athos dryly, I have never had as you have the advantage of treating with Cromwell, and I have only seen his charges, defare, sword, and hand. I am therefore ignorant of how he treated with prime ministers. As for the King of England Charles II, I know that when he writes to his Majesty King Louis XIV, he does not write to his eminence the cardinal Masoudine. I see no diplomacy in that distinction. Ah! cried Masoudine, raising his attenuated hand and striking his head. I remember now. Athos looked at him in astonishment. Yes, and that is it, said the cardinal, continuing to look at his interlocutor. Yes, and that is a certainly it. I know you, monsieur. Ha! Diavolo! I am no longer astonished. In fact, I was astonished that with your eminence's excellent memory. Reply, Athos smiling, you had not recognized me before. Always refractory and grumbling, monsieur. Monsieur. What do they call you? Stop. Name of a river. Potamos. No. The name of an island. Naxos. No. Pergiove. The name of a mountain. Athos. Now I have it.  Fronde. Still fronde. A cursed fronde. What grudges! Why, monsieur, have your antipathy survived mine. If anyone had caused to complain, I think it could not be you, who got out of the affair not only in a sound skin, but with the cordon of the holy ghost around your neck. My lord cardinal, replied Athos, permit me not to enter into considerations of that kind. I have a mission to fulfill. Will you facilitate the means of my fulfilling that mission, or will you not? I am astonished, said Massarine, quite delighted at having recovered his memory and bristling with malice. I am astonished, monsieur, Athos, that a frondeur like you should have accepted a mission for the Massarine, as used to be said in the good old times. And Massarine began to laugh, in spite of a painful cough, which cut short his sentences, converting them into sobs. I have only accepted the mission near the King of France, monsieur, the cardinal. Retorted the compt, though with less disparity, for he thought he had sufficiently the advantage to show himself moderate. Yet, monsieur, la frondeur, said Massarine gaily, The affair which you have taken in charge must, from the king. With which I have been given in charge, Monsignor, I do not run after affairs. Be it so, I say that this negotiation must pass through my hands. Let us lose no precious time, then. Tell me the conditions. I have had the honour of assuring your eminence, that only the letter of his Majesty, King Charles II, contains the revelation of his wishes. Poo, you are meticulous with your obstinacy, monsieur Athos. It is plain you have kept company with the puret in Zander, as to your secret. I know it better than you do, and you have done wrongly, perhaps, in not having shown some respect for a very old and suffering man who has laboured much during his life and kept the field for his ideas as bravely as you have yours. You will not communicate your letter to me. You will say nothing to me. Very well, come with me into my chamber. You shall speak to the king, and before the king. Now, then, one last word. Who gave you the fleece? I remember you passed for having the garter, but as to the fleece, I do not know. Recently, my lord, Spain, on the occasion of the marriage of his Majesty Louis XIV, sent King Charles II to brevet of the fleece in blank. Charles II immediately transmitted it to me, filling up the blank with my name. Maserina rose, and, leaning on the arm of Banuann, who returned to his royal at the moment the name of Monsieur Le Prance was being announced. The Prince de Cond, the First Prince of the Blood, the Conqueror of Recroy, Lens and Norlegan, was in fact entering the apartment of Monsieur de Maserine, followed by his gentlemen, and had already saluted the king when the Prime Minister raised his curtain. Athos had time to see Raoul pressing the hand of the comp de Guiche, and sent him a smile in return for his respectful bow. He had time, likewise, to see the radiant countenance of the cardinal when he perceived before him upon the table an enormous heap of gold, which the comp de Guiche had won in a run of luck after his eminence had confided his cards to him. So, forgetting Ambassador, Embassy and Prince, his first thought was of the gold. What? cried the old man. All of that won. Some fifty thousand crowns, yes, Monsignor. Replied the comp de Guiche rising. Must I give up my place to your eminence, or shall I continue? Give up, give up, you are mad. You would lose all you have won. My lord, said the Prince de Cond bowing. Good evening, Monsieur le Prance, said the Minister in a careless tone. It is very kind of you to visit an old, sick friend. A friend, murmured the comp de l'affaire, at witnessing with stupor this monstrous alliance of words. Friends, when the parties of Cond and Maserine! Maserine seemed to divine the thought of the frondure, for he smiled upon him with triumph and immediately. Sire, said he to the king, I have the honour of presenting to your Majesty, Monsieur le comp de l'affaire, Ambassador from his Britannic Majesty, an affair of state, gentlemen. Added he, waving his hand to all who filled the chamber, and who the Prince de Cond had at their head, all disappeared at the simple gesture. Raoul, after a last look cast at the comp, followed by Monsieur de Cond, Philip, of Anjou and the Queen, appeared to be consulting about departing. A family affair, said Maserine, suddenly, detaining them in their seats. This gentleman is the bearer of a letter, in which King Charles II, a completely restored to his throne, demands an alliance between Monsieur, the brother of the king, and menmoselle Henrietta, granddaughter of Henry IV. Will you remit your letter of credit to the king, Monsieur le comp de? Athos remained for a minute stupefied. How could the minister possibly know the contents of the letter which had never been out of his keeping for a single instant? Nevertheless, always master of himself, he held out the dispatch to the young king Louis XIV, who took it with a blush. A solemn silence reigned in the cardinal's chamber. It was only troubled by the dull sound of the gold, which Maserine, with his yellow dry hand, piled up in a casket, whilst the king was reading.