In which the Unknown of the Hostelry of Les Medici loses his Incognito.
This officer, who was sleeping, or preparing to sleep, was, notwithstanding his careless air, charged with a serious responsibility.
Lieutenant of the king's musketeers, he commanded all the company which came from Paris, and that company consisted of a hundred and twenty men; but, with the exception of the twenty of whom we have spoken, the other hundred were engaged in guarding the queen-mother, and more particularly the cardinal.
Monsignor Giulio Mazarini economized the traveling expenses of his guards; he consequently used the king's, and that largely, since he took fifty of them for himself - a peculiarity which would not have failed to strike any one unacquainted with the usages of that court.
That which would still further have appeared, if not inconvenient, at least extraordinary, to a stranger, was, that the side of the castle destined for monsieur le cardinal was brilliant, light and cheerful. The musketeers there mounted guard before every door, and allowed no one to enter, except the couriers, who, even while he was traveling, followed the cardinal for the carrying on of his correspondence.
Twenty men were on duty with the queen-mother; thirty rested, in order to relieve their companions the next day.
On the king's side, on the contrary, were darkness, silence, and solitude. When once the doors were closed, there was no longer an appearance of royalty. All the servitors had by degrees retired.
Monsieur le Prince had sent to know if his majesty required his attendance; and on the customary "_No_" of the lieutenant of musketeers, who was habituated to the question and the reply, all appeared to sink into the arms of sleep, as if in the dwelling of a good citizen.
And yet it was possible to hear from the side of the house occupied by the young king the music of the banquet, and to see the windows of the great hall richly illuminated.
Ten minutes after his installation in his apartment, Louis XIV. had been able to learn, by movement much more distinguished than marked his own leaving, the departure of the cardinal, who, in his turn, sought his bedroom, accompanied by a large escort of ladies and gentlemen.
Besides, to perceive this movement, he had nothing to do but look out at his window, the shutters of which had not been closed.
His eminence crossed the court, conducted by Monsieur, who himself held a flambeau; then followed the queen-mother, to whom Madame familiarly gave her arm; and both walked chatting away, like two old friends.
Behind these two couples filed nobles, ladies, pages and officers; the flambeaux gleamed over the whole court, like the moving reflections of a conflagration. Then the noise of steps and voices became lost in the upper floors of the castle.
No one was then thinking of the king, who, leaning on his elbow at his window, had sadly seen pass away all that light, and heard that noise die off - no, not one, if it was not that unknown of the hostelry _des Medici_, whom we have seen go out, enveloped in his cloak.
He had come straight up to the castle, and had, with his melancholy countenance, wandered round and round the palace, from which the people had not yet departed; and finding that on one guarded the great entrance, or the porch, seeing that the soldiers of Monsieur were fraternizing with the royal soldiers - that is to say, swallowing Beaugency at discretion, or rather indiscretion - the unknown penetrated through the crowd, then ascended to the court, and came to the landing of the staircase leading to the cardinal's apartment.
What, according to all probability, induced him to direct his steps that way, was the splendor of the flambeaux, and the busy air of the pages and domestics. But he was stopped short by a presented musket and the cry of the sentinel.
"Where are you going, my friend?" asked the soldier.
"I am going to the king's apartment," replied the unknown, haughtily, but tranquilly.
The soldier called one of his eminence's officers, who, in the tone in which a youth in office directs a solicitor to a minister, let fall these words: "The other staircase, in front."
And the officer, without further notice of the unknown, resumed his interrupted conversation.
The stranger, without reply, directed his steps towards the staircase pointed out to him. On this side there was no noise, there were no more flambeaux.
Obscurity, through which a sentinel glided like a shadow; silence, which permitted him to hear the sound of his own footsteps, accompanied with the jingling of his spurs upon the stone slabs.
This guard was one of the twenty musketeers appointed for attendance upon the king, and who mounted guard with the stiffness and consciousness of a statue.
"Who goes there?" said the guard.
"A friend," replied the unknown.
"What do you want?"
"To speak to the king."
"Do you, my dear monsieur? That's not very likely."
"Why not?"
"Because the king has gone to bed."
"Gone to bed already?"
"Yes."
"No matter: I must speak to him."
"And I tell you that is impossible."
"And yet - "
"Go back!"
"Do you require the word?"
"I have no account to render to you. Stand back!"
And this time the soldier accompanied his word with a threatening gesture; but the unknown stirred no more than if his feet had taken root.
"Monsieur le mousquetaire," said he, "are you a gentleman?"
"I have that honor."
"Very well! I also am one; and between gentlemen some consideration ought to be observed."
The soldier lowered his arms, overcome by the dignity with which these words were pronounced.
"Speak, monsieur," said he; "and if you ask me anything in my power - "
"Thank you. You have an officer, have you not?"
"Our lieutenant? Yes, monsieur."
"Well, I wish to speak to him."
"Oh, that's a different thing. Come up, monsieur."
