Chapter XLIV. Result of the Ideas of the King, and the Ideas of
D’Artagnan.
The blow was direct. It was severe, mortal. D’Artagnan, furious at
having been anticipated by an idea of the king’s, did not despair,
however, even yet; and reflecting upon the idea he had brought back from
Belle-Isle, he elicited therefrom novel means of safety for his friends.
“Gentlemen,” said he, suddenly, “since the king has charged some other
than myself with his secret orders, it must be because I no longer
possess his confidence, and I should really be unworthy of it if I had
the courage to hold a command subject to so many injurious suspicions.
Therefore I will go immediately and carry my resignation to the king.
I tender it before you all, enjoining you all to fall back with me upon
the coast of France, in such a way as not to compromise the safety of
the forces his majesty has confided to me. For this purpose, return all
to your posts; within an hour, we shall have the ebb of the tide. To
your posts, gentlemen! I suppose,” added he, on seeing that all prepared
to obey him, except the surveillant officer, “you have no orders to
object, this time?”
And D’Artagnan almost triumphed while speaking these words. This plan
would prove the safety of his friends. The blockade once raised, they
might embark immediately, and set sail for England or Spain, without
fear of being molested. Whilst they were making their escape, D’Artagnan
would return to the king; would justify his return by the indignation
which the mistrust of Colbert had raised in him; he would be sent back
with full powers, and he would take Belle-Isle; that is to say, the
cage, after the birds had flown. But to this plan the officer opposed a
further order of the king’s. It was thus conceived:
“From the moment M. d’Artagnan shall have manifested the desire of
giving in his resignation, he shall no longer be reckoned leader of the
expedition, and every officer placed under his orders shall be held to
no longer obey him. Moreover, the said Monsieur d’Artagnan, having lost
that quality of leader of the army sent against Belle-Isle, shall set
out immediately for France, accompanied by the officer who will have
remitted the message to him, and who will consider him a prisoner for
whom he is answerable.”
Brave and careless as he was, D’Artagnan turned pale. Everything had
been calculated with a depth of precognition which, for the first time
in thirty years, recalled to him the solid foresight and inflexible
logic of the great cardinal. He leaned his head on his hand, thoughtful,
scarcely breathing. “If I were to put this order in my pocket,” thought
he, “who would know it, what would prevent my doing it? Before the king
had had time to be informed, I should have saved those poor fellows
yonder. Let us exercise some small audacity! My head is not one of those
the executioner strikes off for disobedience. We will disobey!” But at
the moment he was about to adopt this plan, he saw the officers around
him reading similar orders, which the passive agent of the thoughts of
that infernal Colbert had distributed to them. This contingency of his
disobedience had been foreseen--as all the rest had been.
“Monsieur,” said the officer, coming up to him, “I await your good
pleasure to depart.”
“I am ready, monsieur,” replied D’Artagnan, grinding his teeth.
The officer immediately ordered a canoe to receive M. d’Artagnan and
himself. At sight of this he became almost distraught with rage.
“How,” stammered he, “will you carry on the directions of the different
corps?”
“When you are gone, monsieur,” replied the commander of the fleet, “it
is to me the command of the whole is committed.”
“Then, monsieur,” rejoined Colbert’s man, addressing the new leader, “it
is for you that this last order remitted to me is intended. Let us see
your powers.”
“Here they are,” said the officer, exhibiting the royal signature.
“Here are your instructions,” replied the officer, placing the folded
paper in his hands; and turning round towards D’Artagnan, “Come,
monsieur,” said he, in an agitated voice (such despair did he behold in
that man of iron), “do me the favor to depart at once.”
“Immediately!” articulated D’Artagnan, feebly, subdued, crushed by
implacable impossibility.
And he painfully subsided into the little boat, which started, favored
by wind and tide, for the coast of France. The king’s guards embarked
with him. The musketeer still preserved the hope of reaching Nantes
quickly, and of pleading the cause of his friends eloquently enough
to incline the king to mercy. The bark flew like a swallow. D’Artagnan
distinctly saw the land of France profiled in black against the white
clouds of night.
“Ah! monsieur,” said he, in a low voice, to the officer to whom, for
an hour, he had ceased speaking, “what would I give to know the
instructions for the new commander! They are all pacific, are they not?
and--”
He did not finish; the thunder of a distant cannon rolled athwart the
waves, another, and two or three still louder. D’Artagnan shuddered.
“They have commenced the siege of Belle-Isle,” replied the officer. The
canoe had just touched the soil of France.