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The Man in the Iron Mask. Dumas Alexandre
Читать онлайн.Название The Man in the Iron Mask
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Автор произведения Dumas Alexandre
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
“Numerous?”
“Less numerous than powerful, monseigneur.”
“Explain yourself.”
“It is impossible; I will explain, I swear before Heaven, on that day that I see you sitting on the throne of France.”
“But my brother?”
“You shall decree his fate. Do you pity him?”
“Him, who leaves me to perish in a dungeon? No, no. For him I have no pity!”
“So much the better.”
“He might have himself come to this prison, have taken me by the hand, and have said, ‘My brother, Heaven created us to love, not to contend with one another. I come to you. A barbarous prejudice has condemned you to pass your days in obscurity, far from mankind, deprived of every joy. I will make you sit down beside me; I will buckle round your waist our father’s sword. Will you take advantage of this reconciliation to put down or restrain me? Will you employ that sword to spill my blood?’ ‘Oh! never,’ I would have replied to him, ‘I look on you as my preserver, I will respect you as my master. You give me far more than Heaven bestowed; for through you I possess liberty and the privilege of loving and being loved in this world.’”
“And you would have kept your word, monseigneur?”
“On my life! While now – now that I have guilty ones to punish – ”
“In what manner, monseigneur?”
“What do you say as to the resemblance that Heaven has given me to my brother?”
“I say that there was in that likeness a providential instruction which the king ought to have heeded; I say that your mother committed a crime in rendering those different in happiness and fortune whom nature created so startlingly alike, of her own flesh, and I conclude that the object of punishment should be only to restore the equilibrium.”
“By which you mean – ”
“That if I restore you to your place on your brother’s throne, he shall take yours in prison.”
“Alas! there’s such infinity of suffering in prison, especially it would be so for one who has drunk so deeply of the cup of enjoyment.”
“Your royal highness will always be free to act as you may desire; and if it seems good to you, after punishment, you will have it in your power to pardon.”
“Good. And now, are you aware of one thing, monsieur?”
“Tell me, my prince.”
“It is that I will hear nothing further from you till I am clear of the Bastile.”
“I was going to say to your highness that I should only have the pleasure of seeing you once again.”
“And when?”
“The day when my prince leaves these gloomy walls.”
“Heavens! how will you give me notice of it?”
“By myself coming to fetch you.”
“Yourself?”
“My prince, do not leave this chamber save with me, or if in my absence you are compelled to do so, remember that I am not concerned in it.”
“And so I am not to speak a word of this to any one whatever, save to you?”
“Save only to me.” Aramis bowed very low. The prince offered his hand.
“Monsieur,” he said, in a tone that issued from his heart, “one word more, my last. If you have sought me for my destruction; if you are only a tool in the hands of my enemies; if from our conference, in which you have sounded the depths of my mind, anything worse than captivity result, that is to say, if death befall me, still receive my blessing, for you will have ended my troubles and given me repose from the tormenting fever that has preyed on me for eight long, weary years.”
“Monseigneur, wait the results ere you judge me,” said Aramis.
“I say that, in such a case, I bless and forgive you. If, on the other hand, you are come to restore me to that position in the sunshine of fortune and glory to which I was destined by Heaven; if by your means I am enabled to live in the memory of man, and confer luster on my race by deeds of valor, or by solid benefits bestowed upon my people; if, from my present depths of sorrow, aided by your generous hand, I raise myself to the very height of honor, then to you, whom I thank with blessings, to you will I offer half my power and my glory: though you would still be but partly recompensed, and your share must always remain incomplete, since I could not divide with you the happiness received at your hands.”
“Monseigneur,” replied Aramis, moved by the pallor and excitement of the young man, “the nobleness of your heart fills me with joy and admiration. It is not you who will have to thank me, but rather the nation whom you will render happy, the posterity whose name you will make glorious. Yes; I shall indeed have bestowed upon you more than life, I shall have given you immortality.”
The prince offered his hand to Aramis, who sank upon his knee and kissed it.
“It is the first act of homage paid to our future king,” said he. “When I see you again, I shall say, ‘Good day, sire.’”
“Till then,” said the young man, pressing his wan and wasted fingers over his heart, – “till then, no more dreams, no more strain on my life – my heart would break! Oh, monsieur, how small is my prison – how low the window – how narrow are the doors! To think that so much pride, splendor, and happiness, should be able to enter in and to remain here!”
“Your royal highness makes me proud,” said Aramis, “since you infer it is I who brought all this.” And he rapped immediately on the door. The jailer came to open it with Baisemeaux, who, devoured by fear and uneasiness, was beginning, in spite of himself, to listen at the door. Happily, neither of the speakers had forgotten to smother his voice, even in the most passionate outbreaks.
“What a confessor!” said the governor, forcing a laugh; “who would believe that a compulsory recluse, a man as though in the very jaws of death, could have committed crimes so numerous, and so long to tell of?”
Aramis made no reply. He was eager to leave the Bastile, where the secret which overwhelmed him seemed to double the weight of the walls. As soon as they reached Baisemeaux’s quarters, “Let us proceed to business, my dear governor,” said Aramis.
“Alas!” replied Baisemeaux.
“You have to ask me for my receipt for one hundred and fifty thousand livres,” said the bishop.
“And to pay over the first third of the sum,” added the poor governor, with a sigh, taking three steps towards his iron strong-box.
“Here is the receipt,” said Aramis.
“And here is the money,” returned Baisemeaux, with a threefold sigh.
“The order instructed me only to give a receipt; it said nothing about receiving the money,” rejoined Aramis. “Adieu, monsieur le governeur!”
And he departed, leaving Baisemeaux almost more than stifled with joy and surprise at this regal present so liberally bestowed by the confessor extraordinary to the Bastile.
Chapter II. How Mouston Had Become Fatter without Giving Porthos Notice Thereof, and of the Troubles Which Consequently Befell that Worthy Gentleman
Since the departure of Athos for Blois, Porthos and D’Artagnan were seldom together. One was occupied with harassing duties for the king, the other had been making many purchases of furniture which he intended to forward to his estate, and by aid of which he hoped to establish in his various residences something of the courtly luxury he had witnessed in all its dazzling brightness in his majesty’s society. D’Artagnan, ever faithful, one morning during an interval of service thought about Porthos, and being uneasy at