Alexandre Dumas - The Three Musketeers

On the day after these events had happened, as Athos had not returned to them, d’Artagnan and Porthos informed M. de Treville of his disappearance.

As for Aramis, he had requested leave of absence for five days, and it was said that he was at Rouen on some family affairs.

M. de Treville was the father of his soldiers. The humblest individual amongst them, from the time that he put on the uniform of the company, was as certain of his assistance and support, as M. de Treville’s own brother could have been.

He went, therefore, at once to the criminal lieutenant. The officer who commanded at La Croix Rouge was sent for, and from various inquiries it was ascertained that Athos was at that time lodged at Fort l’Eveque.

Athos had been subjected to the same trials as we have seen Bonancieux exposed to.

We have witnessed the confrontation of the two prisoners. Athos, who, till then, had said nothing, from fear that d’Artagnan had not had the time he needed, from that moment declared that his name was Athos, and not d’Artagnan. He added that he knew neither M. nor Madame Bonancieux; that he had never spoken either to the one or the other; and that he had gone at about ten at night to pay a visit to his friend, M. d’Artagnan, but until that hour he had been at M. de Treville’s, where he had dined. Twenty witnesses, he added, could confirm this fact, and he named many distinguished gentlemen, amongst whom was the Duc de la Tremouille.

The second commissary was as much surprised as the first, at this simple but firm declaration of the musketeer, on whom he would gladly have taken that revenge which civilians so much love to take on soldiers; but the names of Treville and la Tremouille demanded consideration.

Athos was, therefore, sent to the cardinal; but his eminence was, unfortunately, at the Louvre with the king.

It was just at this time that M. de Treville, having in vain sought Athos from the lieutenant and the governor of Fort l’Eveque, came to make an application to his majesty; to whom he had, as captain of the musketeers, the right of immediate access upon all occasions.

The prejudices of the king against the queen are well known—prejudices which were skilfully fostered by the cardinal, who, in political intrigues, had much greater fear of women than of men. One of the chief causes of this prejudice was the friendship of the queen for Madame de Chevreuse. These two women gave his eminence more uneasiness than the Spanish war, the rupture with England, and the embarrassment of the finances, all combined. He was convinced that Madame de Chevreuse served the queen, not only in political intrigues, but—what was far more vexatious to him—in amorous intrigues as well.

At the first word which the cardinal had uttered, that Madame de Chevreuse, who was exiled to Tours, and had been supposed to be in that city, had come to Paris, and had stayed there five days, escaping the police, the king became furiously enraged. At once capricious, and a false husband, Louis still wished to be distinguished as the just and the chaste . Posterity will, with difficulty, understand this character, which history explains, not by reasoning, but by facts.

But when the cardinal added that not only had Madame de Chevreuse been to Paris, but that the queen had renewed her friendship with her by means of one of those mysterious correspondences which were then called cabals —when he affirmed that he, the cardinal, had all but unravelled the threads of this intrigue—when, at the moment that he was about to detect in the very fact, provided with the fullest proofs, an emissary of the queen, who was in communication with the exile, a musketeer, had dared violently to interrupt the course of justice, by falling, sword in hand, upon the honest officers of the law, who had been charged to examine the whole affair with impartiality, in order to lay it before the king—Louis was no longer able to restrain himself. He took a step towards the queen’s apartments, with that pale and speechless indignation, which, when it burst out, led that prince to acts of the most unfeeling cruelty.

And yet, in all this, the cardinal had not said one word concerning the Duke of Buckingham.

It was at that moment that M. de Treville entered, cool, polite, and with a manner perfectly unobjectionable.

Warned of what had taken place by the presence of the cardinal, and by the change in the king’s countenance, M. de Treville felt himself as strong as Samson in the presence of the Philistines.

The king had already placed his hand upon the handle of the door; but, at the noise of M. de Treville’s entrance, he turned round.

“You come in good time, sir,” said his majesty; who, when his passions were thoroughly excited, never dissembled, “for I hear fine things of your musketeers.”

“And I,” said Treville coolly, “have fine things to tell you of your civilians.”

“What is that you say?” said the king haughtily.

“I have the honour to inform your majesty,” said Treville in the same tone, “that a party of lawyers, commissaries, and police agents—people very respectable in their way, but very bitter, as it appears, against the military—have presumed to arrest in a house, to drag through the public streets, and to cast into Fort l’Eveque (and all this under an order which they refuse to show me), one of my musketeers, or rather of yours, sir, of irreproachable conduct, of an almost illustrious reputation, and favourably known to your majesty—M. Athos!”

“Athos,” said the king mechanically; “yes, I certainly do know that man!”

“Your majesty may remember,” said M. de Treville, “M. Athos is the musketeer who, in the vexatious duel that you heard of, had the misfortune to wound M. de Cahusac severely:—by the bye, my lord,” continued Treville, addressing the cardinal, “M. de Cahusac is entirely recovered, is he not?”

“Yes, thank you,” said the cardinal, biting his lips with anger.

“M. Athos,” continued Treville, “had gone to visit one of his friends who was from home, a young Bearnese, a cadet in his majesty’s guards, in the company of Essarts; but scarcely had he settled himself in his friend’s room, and taken up a book whilst waiting, when a cloud of bailiffs and soldiers, mingled together, laid siege to the house, and broke open several doors.”

The cardinal here made the king a sign, which signified, “It was on account of the business which I have been telling you.”

“We know all that,” said the king, “for it was all done in our service.”

“And was it,” asked Treville, “in your majesty’s service, also, that one of my musketeers, who was perfectly innocent, has been seized, placed between two guards like a criminal, and marched through the midst of an insolent crowd, although he is a gallant man, who has shed his blood for your majesty ten times, and is yet ready to shed it again?”

“Bah,” said the king, somewhat shaken; “and was that really the way of it?”

“M. de Treville does not say,” replied the cardinal with the greatest indifference, “that this innocent musketeer, this gallant man, had, only one hour before, attacked, sword in hand, four commissaries delegated by me to collect information concerning an affair of the greatest importance.”

“I defy your eminence to prove it,” cried Treville, with true Gascon frankness, and true military bluntness, “for, an hour before, M. Athos, who, I can assure you, is a man of the noble origin, did me the honour, after having dined with me, of conversing in my drawing-room with the Count de Chalons and the Duc de la Tremouille.”

The king looked at the cardinal.

“It is proved by a deposition,” said the cardinal, in answer to the mute interrogation of the king; “and the individuals who were ill-treated have prepared what I have now the honour to present to your majesty.”