Part 47 (1/2)
M. DE CINQ-MARS: I write this letter to entreat and conjure you to restore to her duties our well-beloved adopted daughter and friend, the Princesse Marie de Gonzaga, whom your affection alone turns from the throne of Poland, which has been offered to her. I have sounded her heart. She is very young, and I have good reason to believe that she would accept the crown with less effort and less grief than you may perhaps imagine.
It is for her you have undertaken a war which will put to fire and sword my beautiful and beloved France. I supplicate and implore you to act as a gentleman, and n.o.bly to release the d.u.c.h.esse de Mantua from the promises she may have made you. Thus restore repose to her soul, and peace to our beloved country.
The Queen, who will throw herself at your feet if need be,
ANNE.
Cinq-Mars calmly replaced the pistol upon the table; his first impulse had been to turn its muzzle upon himself. However, he laid it down, and s.n.a.t.c.hing a pencil, wrote on the back of the letter;
MADAME: Marie de Gonzaga, being my wife, can not be Queen of Poland until after my death. I die.
CINQ-MARS.
Then, as if he would not allow himself time for a moment's reflection, he forced the letter into the hands of the courier.
”To horse! to horse!” cried he, in a furious tone. ”If you remain another instant, you are a dead man!”
He saw him gallop off, and reentered the tent. Alone with his friend, he remained an instant standing, but pale, his eyes fixed, and looking on the ground like a madman. He felt himself totter.
”De Thou!” he cried.
”What would you, my friend, my dear friend? I am with you. You have acted grandly, most grandly, sublimely!”
”De Thou!” he cried again, in a hollow voice, and fell with his face to the ground, like an uprooted tree.
Violent tempests a.s.sume different aspects, according to the climates in which they take place. Those which have spread over a terrible s.p.a.ce in northern countries a.s.semble into one single cloud under the torrid zone--the more formidable, that they leave the horizon in all its purity, and that the furious waves still reflect the azure of heaven while tinged with the blood of man. It is the same with great pa.s.sions.
They a.s.sume strange aspects according to our characters; but how terrible are they in vigorous hearts, which have preserved their force under the veil of social forms? When youth and despair embrace, we know not to what fury they may rise, or what may be their sudden resignation; we know not whether the volcano will burst the mountain or become suddenly extinguished within its entrails.
De Thou, in alarm, raised his friend. The blood gushed from his nostrils and ears; he would have thought him dead, but for the torrents of tears which flowed from his eyes. They were the only sign of life. Suddenly he opened his lids, looked around him, and by an extraordinary energy resumed his senses and the power of his will.
”I am in the presence of men,” said he; ”I must finish with them. My friend, it is half-past eleven; the hour for the signal has pa.s.sed.
Give, in my name, the order to return to quarters. It was a false alarm, which I will myself explain this evening.”
De Thou had already perceived the importance of this order; he went out and returned immediately.
He found Cinq-Mars seated, calm, and endeavoring to cleanse the blood from his face.
”De Thou,” said he, looking fixedly at him, ”retire; you disturb me.”
”I leave you not,” answered the latter.
”Fly, I tell you! the Pyrenees are not far distant. I can not speak much longer, even to you; but if you remain with me, you will die. I give you warning.”
”I remain,” repeated De Thou.
”May G.o.d preserve you, then!” answered Cinq-Mars, ”for I can do nothing more; the moment has pa.s.sed. I leave you here. Call Fontrailles and all the confederates: distribute these pa.s.sports among them. Let them fly immediately; tell them all has failed, but that I thank them. For you, once again I say, fly with them, I entreat you; but whatever you do, follow me not--follow me not, for your life! I swear to you not to do violence to myself!”
With these words, shaking his friend's hand without looking at him, he rushed from the tent.
Meantime, some leagues thence another conversation was taking place.
At Narbonne, in the same cabinet in which we formerly beheld Richelieu regulating with Joseph the interests of the State, were still seated the same men, nearly as we have described them. The minister, however, had grown much older in three years of suffering; and the Capuchin was as much terrified with the result of his expedition as his master appeared tranquil.
The Cardinal, seated in his armchair, his legs bound and encased with furs and warm clothing, had upon his knees three kittens, which gambolled upon his scarlet robe. Every now and then he took one of them and placed it upon the others, to continue their sport. He smiled as he watched them. On his feet lay their mother, looking like an enormous animated m.u.f.f.