The Vicomte de Bragelonne

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[Illustration: HARDLY HAD THE LADDER BEEN PROPERLY PLACED THAN THE
KING BEGAN TO ASCEND.--_Page 155._]

THE WORKS

OF

ALEXANDRE DUMAS

THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE

OR

TEN YEARS LATER

BEING THE COMPLETION OF

"THE THREE MUSKETEERS" AND "TWENTY YEARS AFTER"

_PART II_

* * * * *

_Copiously Illustrated with elegant Pen and Ink and Wood Engravings,
specially drawn for this edition by eminent French and American Artists._

* * * * *

COMPLETE IN NINE VOLUMES

VOLUME FOUR

* * * * *

NEW YORK
PETER FENELON COLLIER, PUBLISHER.
1893

* * * * *

CONTENTS.

THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE.

(PART II.)

I. Showing what neither the Naiad
nor Dryad had anticipated 5

II. The new General of the Jesuits 9

III. The Storm 14

IV. The Shower of Rain 18

V. Toby 25

VI. Madame's four Chances 29

VII. The Lottery 33

VIII. Malaga 37

IX. A Letter from M. de Baisemeaux 44

X. In which the Reader will be
delighted to find that Porthos
has lost nothing of his
Strength 46

XI. The Rat and the Cheese 55

XII. Planchet's Country-House 59

XIII. Showing what could be seen from
Planchet's House 62

XIV. How Porthos, Truechen, and Planchet
parted with each other
on friendly terms, thanks to
D'Artagnan 65

XV. The Presentation of Porthos at
Court 67

XVI. Explanations 69

XVII. Madame and Guiche 73

XVIII. Montalais and Malicorne 77

XIX. How De Wardes was received at
Court 81

XX. The Combat 87

XXI. The King's Supper 93

XXII. After Supper 96

XXIII. Showing in what way D'Artagnan
discharged the Mission with
which the King had intrusted
him 98

XXIV. The Encounter 101

XXV. The Physician 104

XXVI. Wherein D'Artagnan perceives
that it was he who was mistaken,
and Manicamp who was
right 106

XXVII. Showing the advantage of having
two Strings to one's Bow 109

XXVIII. M. Malicorne the Keeper of the
Records of the Realm of France 115

XXIX. The Journey 118

XXX. Triumfeminate 121

XXXI. The First Quarrel 124

XXXII. Despair 129

XXXIII. The Flight 132

XXXIV. Showing how Louis, on his side,
had passed the time from Ten
to half-past Twelve at Night 135

XXXV. The Ambassadors 138

XXXVI. Chaillot 142

XXXVII. Madame 147

XXXVIII. Mademoiselle de la Valliere's
Pocket-Handkerchief 151

XXXIX. Which treats of Gardeners, of
Ladders, and Maids of Honor 153

XL. Which treats of Carpentry Operations,
and furnishes Details
upon the Mode of constructing
Staircases 157

XLI. The Promenade by Torchlight 161

XLII. The Apparition 166

XLIII. The Portrait 170

XLIV. Hampton Court 174

XLV. The Courier from Madame 180

XLVI. Saint-Aignan follows Malicorne's
Advice 185

XLVII. Two Old Friends 188

XLVIII. Wherein may be seen that a
Bargain which cannot be made
with one Person, can be carried
out with Another 196

XLIX. The Skin of the Bear 201

L. An Interview with the Queen-Mother 204

LI. Two Friends 209

LII. How Jean de la Fontaine wrote
his first Tale 213

LIII. La Fontaine in the Character of
a Negotiator 215

LIV. Madame de Belliere's Plate and
Diamonds 219

LV. M. de Mazarin's Receipt 221

LVI. Monsieur Colbert's rough Draft 225

LVII. In which the Author thinks it is
now time to return to the
Vicomte de Bragelonne 231

LVIII. Bragelonne continues his Inquiries 234

LIX. Two Jealousies 236

LX. A Domiciliary Visit 239

LXI. Porthos' Plan of Action 243

LXII. The Change of Residence, the
Trap-Door, and the Portrait 247

LXIII. Rival Politics 253

LXIV. Rival Affections 255

LXV. King and Nobility 259

LXVI. After the Storm 264

LXVII. Heu! Miser! 267

LXVIII. Wounds upon Wounds 269

LXIX. What Raoul had Guessed 272

LXX. Three Guests astonished to find
themselves at Supper together 275

LXXI. What took place at the Louvre
during the Supper at the
Bastille 278

LXXII. Political Rivals 282

LXXIII. In which Porthos is convinced
without having understood
anything 286

LXXIV. M. de Baisemeaux's "Society" 289

LXXV. The Prisoner 293

LXXVI. How Mouston had become fatter
without giving Porthos notice
thereof, and of the
Troubles which consequently
befell that worthy Gentleman 307

LXXVII. Who Messire John Percerin
was 311

LXXVIII. The Patterns 315

LXXIX. Where, probably, Moliere formed
his first Idea of the Bourgeois
Gentilhomme 319

LXXX. The Beehive, the Bees, and the Honey 323

LXXXI. Another Supper at the Bastille 328

LXXXII. The General of the Order 331

LXXXIII. The Tempter 336

LXXXIV. Crown and Tiara 340

LXXXV. The Chateau de Vaux-le-Vicomte 344

LXXXVI. The Wine of Melun 347

LXXXVII. Nectar and Ambrosia 350

LXXXVIII. A Gascon, and a Gascon and a
half 352

LXXXIX. Colbert 359

XC. Jealousy 362

XCI. High Treason 366

XCII. A Night at the Bastille 371

XCIII. The Shadow of M. Fouquet 374

XCIV. The Morning 383

XCV. The King's Friend 387

XCVI. Showing how the Countersign
was respected at the Bastille 395

XCVII. The King's Gratitude 400

XCVIII. The False King 404

XCIX. In which Porthos thinks he is
pursuing a Duchy 409

C. The Last Adieux 412

CI. Monsieur de Beaufort 415

CII. Preparations for Departure 419

CIII. Planchet's Inventory 423

CIV. The Inventory of M. de Beaufort 426

CV. The Silver Dish 429

CVI. Captive and Jailers 433

CVII. Promises 438

CVIII. Among Women 444

CIX. The Last Supper 449

CX. In the Carriage of M. Colbert 453

CXI. The Two Lighters 456

CXII. Friendly Advice 460

CXIII. How the King, Louis XIV.,
played his little Part 463

CXIV. The White Horse and the Black Horse 468

CXV. In which the Squirrel falls--in
which the Adder flies 472

CXVI. Belle-Isle-en-Mer 477

CXVII. The Explanations of Aramis 482

CXVIII. Result of the Ideas of the King,
and the Ideas of D'Artagnan 487

CXIX. The Ancestors of Porthos 489

CXX. The Son of Biscarrat 491

CXXI. The Grotto of Locmaria 494

CXXII. The Grotto 497

CXXIII. An Homeric Song 501

CXXIV. The Death of a Titan 504

CXXV. The Epitaph of Porthos 508

CXXVI. The Round of M. de Gesvres 511

CXXVII. King Louis XIV. 514

CXXVIII. The Friends of M. Fouquet 518

CXXIX. Porthos' Will 522

CXXX. The Old Age of Athos 525

CXXXI. The Vision of Athos 527

CXXXII. The Angel of Death 531

CXXXIII. The Bulletin 533

CXXXIV. The last Canto of the Poem 536

EPILOGUE 539

THE DEATH OF D'ARTAGNAN 549

* * * * *

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

I.--_Frontispiece._--Hardly had the ladder been properly placed
than the king began to ascend.

II.--As the rain dripped more and more through the foliage of the oak,
the king held his hat over the head of the young girl.

III.--D'Artagnan, reclining upon an immense straight-backed chair, with
his legs not stretched out, but simply placed upon a stool, formed an
angle of the most obtuse form that could possibly be seen.

IV.--De Guiche turned round also, and, at the moment the horse was quiet
again, he fired, and the ball carried off De Wardes' hat from his head.

V.--Athos broke his sword across his knee, slowly placed the two pieces
upon the floor, and saluting the king, who was almost choking from rage
and shame, he quitted the cabinet.

VI.--Raoul, presenting his pistol, threw himself on the leader,
commanding the coachman to stop.

VII.--Aramis saw that the young man was stretched upon his bed, his face
half-concealed by his arms.

VIII.--"You will look through the opening, which answers to one of the
false windows made in the dome of the king's apartment. Can you see?"

IX.--"What is this, monsieur, and what is the meaning of this jest?" "It
is no jest," replied in a deep voice the masked figure that held the
lantern.

X.--The king entered into the cell without pronouncing a single word: he
was pale and haggard.

XI.--They saw, by the red flashes of the lightning against the violet
fog which the wind stamped upon the bankward sky, they saw pass gravely
at six paces behind the governor, a man clothed in black and masked by a
visor of polished steel, soldered to a helmet of the same nature, which
altogether enveloped the whole of his head.

XII.--The Deathbed of Athos--"Here I am!"

THE

VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE.

CHAPTER I.

SHOWING WHAT NEITHER THE NAIAD NOR DRYAD HAD ANTICIPATED.

Saint-Aignan stopped at the foot of the staircase which led to the
_entresol_, where the maids of honor were lodged, and to the first
floor, where Madame's apartments were situated. Then, by means of one of
the servants who was passing, he sent to apprise Malicorne, who was
still with Monsieur. After having waited ten minutes, Malicorne arrived,
looking full of suspicion and importance. The king drew back toward the
darkest part of the vestibule. Saint-Aignan, on the contrary, advanced
to meet him, but at the first words, indicating his wish, Malicorne drew
back abruptly.

"Oh! oh!" he said, "you want me to introduce you into the rooms of the
maids of honor?"

"Yes."

"You know very well that I cannot do anything of the kind, without being
made acquainted with your object."

"Unfortunately, my dear Monsieur Malicorne, it is quite impossible for
me to give you any explanation: you must therefore confide in me as in a
friend who got you out of a great difficulty yesterday, and who now begs
you to draw him out of one to-day."

"Yet, I told you, monsieur, what my object was; that my object was not
to sleep out in the open air, and any man might express the same wish,
while you, however, admit nothing."

"Believe me, my dear Monsieur Malicorne," Saint-Aignan persisted, "that
if I were permitted to explain myself, I would do so."

"In that case, my dear monsieur, it is impossible for me to allow you to
enter Mademoiselle de Montalais's apartment."

"Why so?"

"You know why better than any one else, since you caught me on the wall
paying my addresses to Mademoiselle de Montalais; it would, therefore,
be an excess of kindness, on my part, you will admit, since I am paying
my attentions to her, to open the door of her room to you."

"But who told you it was on her account I asked you for the key?"

"For whom, then?"

"She does not lodge there alone, I suppose?"

"No, certainly; for Mademoiselle de la Valliere shares her rooms with
her; but, really, you have nothing more to do with Mademoiselle de la
Valliere than with Mademoiselle de Montalais, and there are only two men
to whom I would give this key; to M. de Bragelonne, if he begged me to
give it him, and to the king if he ordered me to do so."

"In that case, give me the key, monsieur, I order you to do so," said
the king, advancing from the obscurity, and partially opening his cloak.
"Mademoiselle de Montalais will step down to talk with you, while we go
upstairs to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for, in fact, it is she only
whom we require."

"The king," exclaimed Malicorne, bowing down to the very ground.

"Yes, the king," said Louis, smiling, "the king, who is as pleased with
your resistance as with your capitulation. Rise, monsieur, and render
us the service we request of you."

"I obey your majesty," said Malicorne, leading the way up the staircase.

"Get Mademoiselle de Montalais to come down," said the king, "and do not
breathe a word to her of my visit."

Malicorne bowed in sign of obedience, and proceeded up the staircase.
But the king, after a hasty reflection, followed him, and that, too,
with such rapidity, that although Malicorne was already more than
half-way up the staircase, the king reached the room at the same moment
he did. He then observed by the door which remained half-opened behind
Malicorne, La Valliere, sitting in an armchair with her head thrown
back, and in the opposite corner Montalais, who, in her dressing-gown,
was standing before a looking-glass, engaged in arranging her hair, and
parleying all the while with Malicorne. The king hurriedly opened the
door, and entered the room. Montalais called out at the noise made by
the opening of the door, and, recognizing the king, made her escape. La
Valliere rose from her seat, like a dead person who had been galvanized,
and then fell back again in her armchair. The king advanced slowly
toward her.

"You wished for an audience, I believe," he said, coldly; "I am ready to
hear you. Speak."

Saint-Aignan, faithful to his character of being deaf, blind, and dumb,
had stationed himself in a corner of the door, upon a stool which he
fortuitously found there. Concealed by the tapestry which covered the
doorway, and leaning his back against the wall, he could in this way
listen without been seen; resigning himself to the post of a good
watch-dog, who patiently waits and watches without ever getting in his
master's way.

La Valliere, terror-stricken at the king's irritated aspect, again rose
a second time, and assuming a posture of humility and entreaty,
murmured, "Forgive me, sire."

"What need is there for my forgiveness?" asked Louis.

"Sire, I have been guilty of a great fault; nay, more than a great
fault, a great crime."

"You?"

"Sire, I have offended your majesty."

"Not the slightest degree in the world," replied Louis XIV.

"I implore you, sire, not to maintain toward me that terrible
seriousness of manner which reveals your majesty's just anger. I feel I
have offended you, sire; but I wish to explain to you how it was that I
have not offended you of my own accord."

"In the first place," said the king, "in what way can you possibly have
offended me? I cannot perceive how. Surely not on account of a young
girl's harmless and very innocent jest? You turned the credulity of a
young man into ridicule--it was very natural to do so; any other woman
in your place would have done the same."

"Oh! your majesty overwhelms me by your remark."

"Why so?"

"Because if I had been the author of the jest, it would not have been
innocent."

"Well! is that all you had to say to me in soliciting an audience?" said
the king, as though about to turn away.

Thereupon, La Valliere, in an abrupt and broken voice, her eyes dried up
by the fire of her tears, made a step toward the king, and said, "Did
your majesty hear everything?"

"Everything, what?"

"Everything I said beneath the royal oak."

"I did not lose a syllable."

"And when your majesty heard me, you were able to think I had abused
your credulity."

"Credulity; yes, indeed you have selected the very word."

"And your majesty did not suppose that a poor girl like myself might
possibly be compelled to submit to the will of others."

"Forgive me," returned the king; "but I shall never be able to
understand that she, who of her own free will could express herself so
unreservedly beneath the royal oak, would allow herself to be
influenced to such an extent by the direction of others."

"But the threat held out against me, sire."

"Threat! who threatened you--who dared to threaten you?"

"They who have the right to do so, sire."

"I do not recognize any one as possessing the right to threaten in my
kingdom."

"Forgive me, sire, but near your majesty, even, there are persons
sufficiently high in position to have, or to believe that they possess,
the right of injuring a young girl, without fortune, and possessing only
her reputation."

"In what way injure her?"

"In depriving her of her reputation, by disgracefully expelling her from
the court."

"Oh! Mademoiselle de la Valliere," said the king, bitterly, "I prefer
those persons who exculpate themselves without incriminating others."

"Sire!"

"Yes; and I confess that I greatly regret to perceive that an easy
justification, as your own might be, should have been complicated in my
presence by a tissue of reproaches and imputations against others."

"And which you do not believe?" exclaimed La Valliere. The king remained
silent.

"Nay, but tell me!" repeated La Valliere, vehemently.

"I regret to confess it," replied the king, bowing coldly.

The young girl uttered a deep groan, striking her hands together in
despair. "You do not believe me, then," she said to the king, who still
remained silent, while poor La Valliere's features became visibly
changed at his continued silence. "Therefore, you believe," she said,
"that I settled this ridiculous, this infamous plot, of trifling, in so
shameless a manner, with your majesty."

"Nay," said the king, "it is neither ridiculous nor infamous, it is not
even a plot; it is merely a jest, more or less amusing, and nothing
more."

"Oh!" murmured the young girl, "the king does not, and will not,
believe me, then?"

"No, indeed, I will not believe you," said the king. "Besides, in point
of fact, what can be more natural? The king, you argue, follows me,
listens to me, watches me; the king wishes perhaps to amuse himself at
my expense, I will amuse myself at his, and as the king is very
tender-hearted, I will take his heart by storm."

La Valliere hid her face in her hands, as she stifled her sobs. The king
continued most pitilessly, he revenged himself upon the poor victim
before him for all that he had himself suffered.

"Let us invent, then, this story of my loving him and preferring him to
others. The king is so simple and so conceited that he will believe me;
and then we can go and tell others how credulous the king is, and can
enjoy a laugh at his expense."

"Oh!" exclaimed La Valliere, "to think that, to believe that! it is
frightful."

"And," pursued the king, "that is not all; if this self-conceited prince
should take our jest seriously, if he should be imprudent enough to
exhibit before others anything like delight at it, well, in that case,
the king will be humiliated before the whole court; and what a
delightful story it will be, too, for him to whom I am really attached,
a part of my dowry for my husband, to have the adventure to relate of
the king who was so amusingly deceived by a young girl."

"Sire!" exclaimed La Valliere, her mind bewildered, almost wandering,
indeed, "not another word, I implore you; do you not see that you are
killing me?"

"A jest, nothing but a jest," murmured the king, who, however, began to
be somewhat affected.

La Valliere fell upon her knees, and that so violently, that their sound
could be heard upon the hard floor. "Sire," she said, "I prefer shame to
disloyalty."

"What do you mean?" inquired the king, without moving a step to raise
the young girl from her knees.

"Sire, when I shall have sacrificed my honor and my reason both to you,
you will perhaps believe in my loyalty. The tale which was related to
you in Madame's apartments, and by Madame herself, is utterly false; and
that which I said beneath the great oak--"

"Well!"

"That only is the truth."

"What!" exclaimed the king.

"Sire," exclaimed La Valliere, hurried away by the violence of her
emotions, "were I to die of shame on the very spot where my knees are
fixed, I would repeat it until my latest breath; I said that I loved
you, and it is true; I do love you."