It was the second time the cardinal had mentioned these diamondstuds to the king. Louis XIII was struck with this insistence,and began to fancy that this recommendation concealed somemystery.

More than once the king had been humiliated by the cardinal,whose police, without having yet attained the perfection of themodern police, were excellent, being better informed thanhimself, even upon what was going on in his own household. Hehoped, then, in a conversation with Anne of Austria, to obtainsome information from that conversation, and afterward to comeupon his Eminence with some secret which the cardinal either knewor did not know, but which, in either case, would raise himinfinitely in the eyes of his minister.

He went then to the queen, and according to custom accosted herwith fresh menaces against those who surrounded her. Anne ofAustria lowered her head, allowed the torrent to flow on withoutreplying, hoping that it would cease of itself; but this was notwhat Louis XIII meant. Louis XIII wanted a discussion from whichsome light or other might break, convinced as he was that thecardinal had some afterthought and was preparing for him one ofthose terrible surprises which his Eminence was so skillful ingetting up. He arrived at this end by his persistence inaccusation.

"But," cried Anne of Austria, tired of these vague attacks, "but,sire, you do not tell me all that you have in your heart. Whathave I done, then? Let me know what crime I have committed. Itis impossible that your Majesty can make all this ado about aletter written to my brother."

The king, attacked in a manner so direct, did not know what toanswer; and he thought that this was the moment for expressingthe desire which he was not have made until the evening beforethe fete.

"Madame," said he, with dignity, "there will shortly be a ball atthe Hotel de Ville. I wish, in order to honor our worthyaldermen, you should appear in ceremonial costume, and above all,ornamented with the diamond studs which I gave you on yourbirthday. That is my answer."

The answer was terrible. Anne of Austria believed that LouisXIII knew all, and that the cardinal had persuaded him to employthis long dissimulation of seven or eight days, which, likewise,was characteristic. She became excessively pale, leaned herbeautiful hand upon a CONSOLE, which hand appeared then like oneof wax, and looking at the king with terror in her eyes, she wasunable to reply by a single syllable.

"You hear, madame," said the king, who enjoyed the embarrassmentto its full extent, but without guessing the cause. "You hear,madame?"

"Yes, sire, I hear," stammered the queen.

"You will appear at this ball?"

"Yes."

"With those studs?"

"Yes."

The queen's paleness, if possible, increased; the king perceivedit, and enjoyed it with that cold cruelty which was one of theworst sides of his character.

"Then that is agreed," said the king, "and that is all I had tosay to you."

"But on what day will this ball take place?" asked Anne ofAustria.

Louis XIII felt instinctively that he ought not to reply to thisquestion, the queen having put it in an almost dying voice.

"Oh, very shortly, madame," said he; "but I do not preciselyrecollect the date of the day. I will ask the cardinal."

"It was the cardinal, then, who informed you of this fete?"

"Yes, madame," replied the astonished king; "but why do you askthat?"

"It was he who told you to invite me to appear with these studs?"

"That is to say, madame - "

"It was he, sire, it was he!"

"Well, and what does it signify whether it was he or I? Is thereany crime in this request?"

"No, sire."

"Then you will appear?"

"Yes, sire."

"That is well," said the king, retiring, "that is well; I countupon it."

The queen made a curtsy, less from etiquette than because herknees were sinking under her. The king went away enchanted.

"I am lost," murmured the queen, "lost! - for the cardinal knowsall, and it is he who urges on the king, who as yet knows nothingbut will soon know everything. I am lost! My God, my God, myGod!"

She knelt upon a cushion and prayed, with her head buried betweenher palpitating arms.

In fact, her position was terrible. Buckingham had returned toLondon; Mme. Chevreuse was at Tours. More closely watched thanever, the queen felt certain, without knowing how to tell which,that one of her women had betrayed her. Laporte could not leavethe Louvre; she had not a soul in the world in whom she couldconfide. Thus, while contemplating the misfortune whichthreatened her and the abandonment in which she was left, shebroke out into sobs and tears.

"Can I be of service to your Majesty?" said all at once a voicefull of sweetness and pity.

The queen turned sharply round, for there could be no deceptionin the expression of that voice; it was a friend who spoke thus.

In fact, at one of the doors which opened into the queen'sapartment appeared the pretty Mme. Bonacieux. She had beenengaged in arranging the dresses and linen in a closet when theking entered; she could not get out and had heard all.

The queen uttered a piercing cry at finding herself surprised - for in her trouble she did not at first recognize the young womanwho had been given to her by Laporte.

"Oh, fear nothing, madame!" said the young woman, clasping herhands and weeping herself at the queen's sorrows; "I am yourMajesty's, body and soul, and however far I may be from you,however inferior may be my position, I believe I have discovereda means of extricating your Majesty from your trouble."

"You, oh, heaven, you!" cried the queen; "but look me in theface. I am betrayed on all sides. Can I trust in you?"

"Oh, madame!" cried the young woman, falling on her knees; "uponmy soul, I am ready to die for your Majesty!"

This expression sprang from the very bottom of the heart, and,like the first, there was no mistaking it.

"Yes," continued Mme. Bonacieux, "yes, there are traitors here;but by the holy name of the Virgin, I swear that no one is moredevoted to your Majesty than I am. Those studs which the kingspeaks of, you gave them to the Duke of Buckingham, did you not?Those studs were enclosed in a little rosewood box which he heldunder his arm? Am I deceived? Is it not so, madame?"

"Oh, my God, my God!" murmured the queen, whose teeth chatteredwith fright.

"Well, those studs," continued Mme. Bonacieux, "we must have themback again."

"Yes, without doubt, it is necessary," cried the queen; "but howam I to act? How can it be effected?"

"Someone must be sent to the duke."

"But who, who? In whom can I trust?"

"Place confidence in me, madame; do me that honor, my queen, andI will find a messenger."

"But I must write."

"Oh, yes; that is indispensable. Two words from the hand of yourMajesty and your private seal."

"But these two words would bring about my condemnation, divorce,exile!"

"Yes, if they fell into infamous hands. But I will answer forthese two words being delivered to their address."

"Oh, my God! I must then place my life, my honor, my reputation,in your hands?"

"Yes, yes, madame, you must; and I will save them all."

"But how? Tell me at least the means."

"My husband had been at liberty these two or three days. I havenot yet had time to see him again. He is a worthy, honest manwho entertains neither love nor hatred for anybody. He will doanything I wish. He will set out upon receiving an order fromme, without knowing what he carries, and he will carry yourMajesty's letter, without even knowing it is from your Majesty,to the address which is on it."

The queen took the two hands of the young woman with a burst ofemotion, gazed at her as if to read her very heart, and seeingnothing but sincerity in her beautiful eyes, embraced hertenderly.

"Do that," cried she, "and you will have saved my life, you willhave saved my honor!"

"Do not exaggerate the service I have the happiness to renderyour Majesty. I have nothing to save for your Majesty; you areonly the victim of perfidious plots."

"That is true, that is true, my child," said the queen, "you areright."

"Give me then, that letter, madame; time presses."

The queen ran to a little table, on which were ink, paper, andpens. She wrote two lines, sealed the letter with her privateseal, and gave it to Mme. Bonacieux.

"And now," said the queen, "we are forgetting one very necessarything."

"What is that, madame?"

"Money."

Mme. Bonacieux blushed.

"Yes, that is true," said she, "and I will confess to yourMajesty that my husband - "

"Your husband has none. Is that what you would say?"

"He has some, but he is very avaricious; that is his fault.Nevertheless, let not your Majesty be uneasy, we will findmeans."

"And I have none, either," said the queen. Those who have readthe MEMOIRS of Mme. de Motteville will not be astonished at thisreply. "But wait a minute."

Anne of Austria ran to her jewel case.

"Here," said she, "here is a ring of great value, as I have beenassured. It came from my brother, the King of Spain. It ismine, and I am at liberty to dispose of it. Take this ring;raise money with it, and let your husband set out."

"In an hour you shall be obeyed."

"You see the address," said the queen, speaking so low that Mme.Bonacieux could hardly hear what she said, "To my Lord Duke ofBuckingham, London."

"The letter shall be given to himself."

"Generous girl!" cried Anne of Austria.

Mme. Bonacieux kissed the hands of the queen, concealed the paperin the bosom of her dress, and disappeared with the lightness ofa bird.

Ten minutes afterward she was at home. As she told the queen,she had not seen her husband since his liberation; she wasignorant of the change that had taken place in him with respectto the cardinal - a change which had since been strengthened bytwo or three visits from the Comte de Rochefort, who had becomethe best friend of Bonacieux, and had persuaded him, without muchtrouble, order in his house, the furniture of which he had foundmostly broken and his closets nearly empty - justice not being oneof the three things which King Solomon names as leaving no tracesof their passage. As to the servant, she had run away at themoment of her master's arrest. Terror had had such an effectupon the poor girl that she had never ceased walking from Paristill she reached Burgundy, her native place.

The worthy mercer had, immediately upon re-entering his house,informed his wife of his happy return, and his wife had repliedby congratulating him, and telling him that the first moment shecould steal from her duties should be devoted to paying him avisit.

This first moment had been delayed five days, which, under anyother circumstances, might have appeared rather long to M.Bonacieux; but he had, in the visit he had made to the cardinaland in the visits Rochefort had made him, ample subjects forreflection, and as everybody knows, nothing makes time pass morequickly than reflection.

This was the more so because Bonacieux's reflections were allrose-colored. Rochefort called him his friend, his dearBonacieux, and never ceased telling him that the cardinal had agreat respect for him. The mercer fancied himself already on thehigh road to honors and fortune.

On her side Mme. Bonacieux had also reflected; but, it must beadmitted, upon something widely different from ambition. Inspite of herself her thoughts constantly reverted to thathandsome young man who was so brave and appeared to be so much inlove. Married at eighteen to Mme. Bonacieux, having always livedamong her husband's friends - people little capable of inspiringany sentiment whatever in a young woman whose heart was above herposition - Mme. Bonacieux had remained insensible to vulgarseductions; but at this period the title of gentleman had greatinfluence with the citizen class, and D'Artagnan was a gentleman.Besides, he wore the uniform of the Guards, which next to that ofthe Musketeers was most admired by the ladies. He was, werepeat, handsome, young, and bold; he spoke of love like a manwho did love and was anxious to be loved in return. There wascertainly enough in all this to turn a head only twenty-threeyears old, and Mme. Bonacieux had just attained that happy periodof life.

The couple, then, although they had not seen each other for eightdays, and during that time serious events had taken place inwhich both were concerned, accosted each other with a degree ofpreoccupation. Nevertheless, Bonacieux manifested real joy, andadvanced toward his wife with open arms. Madame Bonacieuxpresented her cheek to him.

"Let us talk a little," said she.

"How!" said Bonacieux, astonished.

"Yes, I have something of the highest importance to tell you."

"True," said he, "and I have some questions sufficiently seriousto put to you. Describe to me your abduction, I pray you."

"Oh, that's of no consequence just now," said Mme. Bonacieux.

"And what does it concern, then - my captivity?"

"I heard of it the day it happened; but as you were not guilty ofany crime, as you were not guilty of any intrigue, as you, inshort, knew nothing that could compromise yourself or anybodyelse, I attached no more importance to that event than itmerited."

"You speak very much at your ease, madame," said Bonacieux, hurtat the little interest his wife showed in him. "Do you know thatI was plunged during a day and night in a dungeon of theBastille?"

"Oh, a day and night soon pass away. Let us return to the objectthat brings me here."

"What, that which brings you home to me? Is it not the desire ofseeing a husband again from whom you have been separated for aweek?" asked the mercer, piqued to the quick.

"Yes, that first, and other things afterward."

"Speak."

"It is a thing of the highest interest, and upon which our futurefortune perhaps depends."

"The complexion of our fortune has changed very much since I sawyou, Madam Bonacieux, and I should not be astonished if in thecourse of a few months it were to excite the envy of many folks."

"Yes, particularly if you follow the instructions I am about togive you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. There is good and holy action to be performed,monsieur, and much money to be gained at the same time."

Mme. Bonacieux knew that in talking of money to her husband, shetook him on his weak side. But a man, were he even a mercer,when he had talked for ten minutes with Cardinal Richelieu, is nolonger the same man.

"Much money to be gained?" said Bonacieux, protruding his lip.

"Yes, much."

"About how much?"

"A thousand pistoles, perhaps."

"What you demand of me is serious, then?"

"It is indeed."

"What must be done?"

"You must go away immediately. I will give you a paper which youmust not part with on any account, and which you will deliverinto the proper hands."

"And whither am I to go?"

"To London."

"I go to London? Go to! You jest! I have no business inLondon."

"But others wish that you should go there."

"But who are those others? I warn you that I will never againwork in the dark, and that I will know not only to what I exposemyself, but for whom I expose myself."

"An illustrious persons sends you; an illustrious person awaitsyou. The recompense will exceed your expectations; that is all Ipromise you."

"More intrigues! Nothing but intrigues! Thank you, madame, I amaware of them now; Monsieur Cardinal has enlightened me on thathead."

"The cardinal?" cried Mme. Bonacieux. "Have you seen thecardinal?"

"He sent for me," answered the mercer, proudly.

"And you responded to his bidding, you imprudent man?"

"Well, I can't say I had much choice of going or not going, for Iwas taken to him between two guards. It is true also, that as Idid not then know his Eminence, if I had been able to dispensewith the visit, I should have been enchanted."

"He ill-treated you, then; he threatened you?"

"He gave me his hand, and called me his friend. His friend! Doyou hear that, madame? I am the friend of the great cardinal!"

"Of the great cardinal!"

"Perhaps you would contest his right to that title, madame?"

"I would contest nothing; but I tell you that the favor of aminister is ephemeral, and that a man must be mad to attachhimself to a minister. There are powers above his which do notdepend upon a man or the issue of an event; it is to these powerswe should rally."

"I am sorry for it, madame, but I acknowledge not her power butthat of the great man whom I have the honor to serve."

"You serve the cardinal?"

"Yes, madame; and as his servant, I will not allow you to beconcerned in plots against the safety of the state, or to servethe intrigues of a woman who in not French and who has a Spanishheart. Fortunately we have the great cardinal; his vigilant eyewatches over and penetrates to the bottom of the heart."

Bonacieux was repeating, word for word, a sentence which he hadheard from the Comte de Rochefort; but the poor wife, who hadreckoned on her husband, and who, in that hope, had answered forhim to the queen, did not tremble the less, both at the dangerinto which she had nearly cast herself and at the helpless stateto which she was reduced. Nevertheless, knowing the weakness ofher husband, and more particularly his cupidity, she did notdespair of bringing him round to her purpose.

"Ah, you are a cardinalist, then, monsieur, are you?" cried she;"and you serve the party of those who maltreat your wife andinsult your queen?"

"Private interests are as nothing before the interests of all. Iam for those who save the state," said Bonacieux, emphatically.

"And what do you know about the state you talk of?" said Mme.Bonacieux, shrugging her shoulders. "Be satisfied with being aplain, straightforward citizen, and turn to that side whichoffers the most advantages."

"Eh, eh!" said Bonacieux, slapping a plump, round bag, whichreturned a sound a money; "what do you think of this, MadamePreacher?"

"Whence comes that money?"

"You do not guess?"

"From the cardinal?"

"From him, and from my friend the Comte de Rochefort."

"The Comte de Rochefort! Why it was he who carried me off!"

"That may be, madame!"

"And you receive silver from that man?"

"Have you not said that that abduction was entirely political?"

"Yes; but that abduction had for its object the betrayal of mymistress, to draw from me by torture confessions that mightcompromise the honor, and perhaps the life, of my augustmistress."

"Madame," replied Bonacieux, "your august mistress is aperfidious Spaniard, and what the cardinal does is well done."

"Monsieur," said the young woman, "I know you to be cowardly,avaricious, and foolish, but I never till now believed youinfamous!"

"Madame," said Bonacieux, who had never seen his wife in apassion, and who recoiled before this conjugal anger, "madame,what do you say?"

"I say you are a miserable creature!" continued Mme. Bonacieux,who saw she was regaining some little influence over her husband."You meddle with politics, do you - and still more, withcardinalist politics? Why, you sell yourself, body and soul, tothe demon, the devil, for money!"

"No, to the cardinal."

"It's the same thing," cried the young woman. "Who callsRichelieu calls Satan."

"Hold your tongue, hold your tongue, madame! You may beoverheard."

"Yes, you are right; I should be ashamed for anyone to know yourbaseness."

"But what do you require of me, then? Let us see."

"I have told you. You must depart instantly, monsieur. You mustaccomplish loyally the commission with which I deign to chargeyou, and on that condition I pardon everything, I forgeteverything; and what is more," and she geld out her hand to him,"I restore my love."

Bonacieux was cowardly and avaricious, but he loved his wife. Hewas softened. A man of fifty cannot long bear malice with a wifeof twenty-three. Mme. Bonacieux saw that he hesitated.

"Come! Have you decided?" said she.

"But, my dear love, reflect a little upon what you require of me.London is far from Paris, very far, and perhaps the commissionwith which you charge me is not without dangers?"

"What matters it, if you avoid them?"

"Hold, Madame Bonacieux," said the mercer, "hold! I positivelyrefuse; intrigues terrify me. I have seen the Bastille. My!Whew! That's a frightful place, that Bastille! Only to think ofit makes my flesh crawl. They threatened me with torture. Doyou know what torture is? Wooden points that they stick inbetween your legs till your bones stick out! No, positively Iwill not go. And, MORBLEU, why do you not go yourself? For intruth, I think I have hitherto been deceived in you. I reallybelieve you are a man, and a violent one, too."

"And you, you are a woman - a miserable woman, stupid and brutal.You are afraid, are you? Well, if you do not go this veryinstant, I will have you arrested by the queen's orders, and Iwill have you placed in the Bastille which you dread so much."

Bonacieux fell into a profound reflection. He weighed the twoangers in his brain - that of the cardinal and that of the queen;that of the cardinal predominated enormously.

"Have me arrested on the part of the queen," said he, "and I - Iwill appeal to his Eminence.

At once Mme. Bonacieux saw that she had gone too far, and she wasterrified at having communicated so much. She for a momentcontemplated with fright that stupid countenance, impressed withthe invincible resolution of a fool that is overcome by fear.

"Well, be it so!" said she. "Perhaps, when all is considered,you are right. In the long run, a man knows more about politicsthan a woman, particularly such as, like you, Monsieur Bonacieux,have conversed with the cardinal. And yet it is very hard,"added she, "that a man upon whose affection I thought I mightdepend, treats me thus unkindly and will not comply with any ofmy fancies."

"That is because your fancies go too far," replied the triumphantBonacieux, "and I mistrust them."

'Well, I will give it up, then," said the young woman, sighing."It is well as it is; say no more about it."

"At least you should tell me what I should have to do in London,"replied Bonacieux, who remembered a little too late thatRochefort had desired him to endeavor to obtain his wife'ssecrets.

"It is of no use for you to know anything about it," said theyoung woman, whom an instinctive mistrust now impelled to drawback. "It was about one of those purchases that interest women - a purchase by which much might have been gained."

But the more the young woman excused herself, the more importantBonacieux thought the secret which she declined to confide tohim. He resolved then to hasten immediately to the residence ofthe Comte de Rochefort, and tell him that the queen was seekingfor a messenger to send to London.

"Pardon me for quitting you, my dear Madame Bonacieux," said he;"but, not knowing you would come to see me, I had made anengagement with a friend. I shall soon return; and if you willwait only a few minutes for me, as soon as I have concluded mybusiness with that friend, as it is growing late, I will comeback and reconduct you to the Louvre."

"Thank you, monsieur, you are not brave enough to be of any useto me whatever," replied Mme. Bonacieux. "I shall return verysafely to the Louvre all alone."

"As you please, Madame Bonacieux," said the ex-mercer. "Shall Isee you again soon?"

"Next week I hope my duties will afford me a little liberty, andI will take advantage of it to come and put things in order here,so they must necessarily be much deranged."

"Very well; I shall expect you. You are not angry with me?"

"Not the least in the world."

"Tell then, then?"

"Till then."

Bonacieux kissed his wife's hand, and set off at a quick pace.

"Well," said Mme. Bonacieux, when her husband had shut the streetdoor and she found herself alone; "that imbecile lacked but onething to become a cardinalist. And I, who have answered for himto the queen - I, who have promised my poor mistress - ah, my God,my God! She will take me for one of those wretches with whom thepalace swarms and who are placed about her as spies! Ah,Monsieur Bonacieux, I never did love you much, but now it isworse than ever. I hate you, and on my word you shall pay forthis!"

At the moment she spoke these words a rap on the ceiling made herraise her head, and a voice which reached her through the ceilingcried, "Dear Madame Bonacieux, open for me the little door on thealley, and I will come down to you."