Part 52 (1/2)

”You were wrong; you would have been master now.”

”And what happiness should I find in my power when shared as it must be by a woman who does not understand me; who loved me feebly, and prefers a crown?”

”Inconceivable folly!” said the Capuchin, laughing.

”All with her; nothing without her--that was my desire.”

”It is from obstinacy and vanity that you persist; it is impossible,”

replied Joseph. ”It is not in nature.”

”Thou who wouldst deny the spirit of self-sacrifice,” answered Cinq-Mars; ”dost thou understand that of my friend?”

”It does not exist; he follows you because--”

Here the Capuchin, slightly embarra.s.sed, reflected an instant.

”Because--because--he has formed you; you are his work; he is attached to you by the self-love of an author. He was accustomed to lecture you; and he felt that he should not find another pupil so docile to listen to and applaud him. Constant habit has persuaded him that his life was bound to yours; it is something of that kind. He will accompany you mechanically. Besides, all is not yet finished; we shall see the end and the examination. He will certainly deny all knowledge of the conspiracy.”

”He will not deny it!” exclaimed Cinq-Mars, impetuously.

”He knew it, then? You confess it,” said Joseph, triumphantly; ”you have not said as much before.”

”O Heaven, what have I done!” gasped Cinq-Mars, hiding his face.

”Calm yourself; he is saved, notwithstanding this avowal, if you accept my offer.”

D'Effiat remained silent for a short time.

The Capuchin continued:

”Save your friend. The King's favor awaits you, and perhaps the love which has erred for a moment.”

”Man, or whatever else thou art, if thou hast in thee anything resembling a heart,” answered the prisoner, ”save him! He is the purest of created beings; but convey him far away while yet he sleeps, for should he awake, thy endeavors would be vain.”

”What good will that do me?” said the Capuchin, laughing. ”It is you and your favor that I want.”

The impetuous Cinq-Mars rose, and, seizing Joseph by the arm, eying him with a terrible look, said:

”I degraded him in interceding with thee for him.” He continued, raising the tapestry which separated his apartment from that of his friend, ”Come, and doubt, if thou canst, devotion and the immortality of the soul. Compare the uneasiness and misery of thy triumph with the calmness of our defeat, the meanness of thy reign with the grandeur of our captivity, thy sanguinary vigils to the slumbers of the just.”

A solitary lamp threw its light on De Thou. The young man was kneeling on a cus.h.i.+on, surmounted by a large ebony crucifix. He seemed to have fallen asleep while praying. His head, inclining backward, was still raised toward the cross. His pale lips wore a calm and divine smile.

”Holy Father, how he sleeps!” exclaimed the astonished Capuchin, thoughtlessly uniting to his frightful discourse the sacred name he every day p.r.o.nounced. He suddenly retired some paces, as if dazzled by a heavenly vision.

”Nonsense, nonsense!” he said, shaking his head, and pa.s.sing his hand rapidly over his face. ”All this is childishness. It would overcome me if I reflected on it. These ideas may serve as opium to produce a calm.

But that is not the question; say yes or no.”

”No,” said Cinq-Mars, pus.h.i.+ng him to the door by the shoulder. ”I will not accept life; and I do not regret having compromised De Thou, for he would not have bought his life at the price of an a.s.sa.s.sination. And when he yielded at Narbonne, it was not that he might escape at Lyons.”

”Then wake him, for here come the judges,” said the furious Capuchin, in a sharp, piercing voice.