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Man in the Iron Mask, The
CHAPTER XXXVIII - Friendly Advice
Alexandre Dumas
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       _ Fouquet had gone to bed, like a man who clings to life, and wishes to
       economize, as much as possible, that slender tissue of existence, of
       which the shocks and frictions of this world so quickly wear out the
       tenuity. D'Artagnan appeared at the door of this chamber, and was
       saluted by the superintendent with a very affable "Good day."
       "_Bon jour!_ monseigneur," replied the musketeer; "how did you get
       through the journey?"
       "Tolerably well, thank you."
       "And the fever?"
       "But poorly. I drink, as you perceive. I am scarcely arrived, and I
       have already levied a contribution of _tisane_ upon Nantes."
       "You should sleep first, monseigneur."
       "Eh! _corbleu!_ my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, I should be very glad to
       sleep."
       "Who hinders you?"
       "Why, _you_ in the first place."
       "I? Oh, monseigneur!"
       "No doubt you do. Is it at Nantes as at Paris? Do you not come in the
       king's name?"
       "For Heaven's sake, monseigneur," replied the captain, "leave the king
       alone! The day on which I shall come on the part of the king, for the
       purpose you mean, take my word for it, I will not leave you long in
       doubt. You will see me place my hand on my sword, according to the
       _ordonnance_, and you will hear my say at once, in ceremonial voice,
       'Monseigneur, in the name of the king, I arrest you!'"
       "You promise me that frankness?" said the superintendent.
       "Upon my honor! But we have not come to that, believe me."
       "What makes you think that, M. d'Artagnan? For my part, I think quite
       the contrary."
       "I have heard speak of nothing of the kind," replied D'Artagnan.
       "Eh! eh!" said Fouquet.
       "Indeed, no. You are an agreeable man, in spite of your fever. The king
       should not, cannot help loving you, at the bottom of his heart."
       Fouquet's expression implied doubt. "But M. Colbert?" said he; "does M.
       Colbert love me as much as you say?"
       "I am not speaking of M. Colbert," replied D'Artagnan. "He is an
       exceptional man. He does not love you; so much is very possible; but,
       _mordioux!_ the squirrel can guard himself against the adder with very
       little trouble."
       "Do you know that you are speaking to me quite as a friend?" replied
       Fouquet; "and that, upon my life! I have never met with a man of your
       intelligence, and heart?"
       "You are pleased to say so," replied D'Artagnan. "Why did you wait till
       to-day to pay me such a compliment?"
       "Blind that we are!" murmured Fouquet.
       "Your voice is getting hoarse," said D'Artagnan; "drink, monseigneur,
       drink!" And he offered him a cup of _tisane_, with the most friendly
       cordiality; Fouquet took it, and thanked him by a gentle smile. "Such
       things only happen to me," said the musketeer. "I have passed ten years
       under your very beard, while you were rolling about tons of gold. You
       were clearing an annual pension of four millions; you never observed me;
       and you find out there is such a person in the world, just at the moment
       you - "
       "Just at the moment I am about to fall," interrupted Fouquet. "That is
       true, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan."
       "I did not say so."
       "But you thought so; and that is the same thing. Well! if I fall, take
       my word as truth, I shall not pass a single day without saying to myself,
       as I strike my brow, 'Fool! fool! - stupid mortal! You had a Monsieur
       d'Artagnan under your eye and hand, and you did not employ him, you did
       not enrich him!'"
       "You overwhelm me," said the captain. "I esteem you greatly."
       "There exists another man, then, who does not think as M. Colbert
       thinks," said the surintendant.
       "How this M. Colbert looms up in your imagination! He is worse than
       fever!"
       "Oh! I have good cause," said Fouquet. "Judge for yourself." And he
       related the details of the course of the lighters, and the hypocritical
       persecution of Colbert. "Is not this a clear sign of my ruin?"
       D'Artagnan became very serious. "That is true," he said. "Yes; it has
       an unsavory odor, as M. de Treville used to say." And he fixed on M.
       Fouquet his intelligent and significant look.
       "Am I not clearly designated in that, captain? Is not the king bringing
       me to Nantes to get me away from Paris, where I have so many creatures,
       and to possess himself of Belle-Isle?"
       "Where M. d'Herblay is," added D'Artagnan. Fouquet raised his head. "As
       for me, monseigneur," continued D'Artagnan, "I can assure you the king
       has said nothing to me against you."
       "Indeed!"
       "The king commanded me to set out for Nantes, it is true; and to say
       nothing about it to M. de Gesvres."
       "My friend."
       "To M. de Gesvres, yes, monseigneur," continued the musketeer, whose eye
       s did not cease to speak a language different from the language of his
       lips. "The king, moreover, commanded me to take a brigade of musketeers,
       which is apparently superfluous, as the country is quite quiet."
       "A brigade!" said Fouquet, raising himself upon his elbow.
       "Ninety-six horsemen, yes, monseigneur. The same number as were employed
       in arresting MM. de Chalais, de Cinq-Mars, and Montmorency."
       Fouquet pricked up his ears at these words, pronounced without apparent
       value. "And what else?" said he.
       "Oh! nothing but insignificant orders; such as guarding the castle,
       guarding every lodging, allowing none of M. de Gesvres's guards to occupy
       a single post."
       "And as to myself," cried Fouquet, "what orders had you?"
       "As to you, monseigneur? - not the smallest word."
       "Monsieur d'Artagnan, my safety, my honor, perhaps my life are at stake.
       You would not deceive me?"
       "I? - to what end? Are you threatened? Only there really is an order
       with respect to carriages and boats - "
       "An order?"
       "Yes; but it cannot concern you - a simple measure of police."
       "What is it, captain? - what is it?"
       "To forbid all horses or boats to leave Nantes, without a pass, signed by
       the king."
       "Great God! but - "
       D'Artagnan began to laugh. "All that is not to be put into execution
       before the arrival of the king at Nantes. So that you see plainly,
       monseigneur, the order in nowise concerns you."
       Fouquet became thoughtful, and D'Artagnan feigned not to observe his
       preoccupation. "It is evident, by my thus confiding to you the orders
       which have been given to me, that I am friendly towards you, and that I
       am trying to prove to you that none of them are directed against you."
       "Without doubt! - without doubt!" said Fouquet, still absent.
       "Let us recapitulate," said the captain, his glance beaming with
       earnestness. "A special guard about the castle, in which your lodging is
       to be, is it not?"
       "Do you know the castle?"
       "Ah! monseigneur, a regular prison! The absence of M. de Gesvres, who
       has the honor of being one of your friends. The closing of the gates of
       the city, and of the river without a pass; but, only when the king shall
       have arrived. Please to observe, Monsieur Fouquet, that if, instead of
       speaking to man like you, who are one of the first in the kingdom, I were
       speaking to a troubled, uneasy conscience - I should compromise myself
       forever. What a fine opportunity for any one who wished to be free! No
       police, no guards, no orders; the water free, the roads free, Monsieur
       d'Artagnan obliged to lend his horses, if required. All this ought to
       reassure you, Monsieur Fouquet, for the king would not have left me thus
       independent, if he had any sinister designs. In truth, Monsieur Fouquet,
       ask me whatever you like, I am at your service; and, in return, if you
       will consent to do it, do me a service, that of giving my compliments to
       Aramis and Porthos, in case you embark for Belle-Isle, as you have a
       right to do without changing your dress, immediately, in your _robe de
       chambre_ - just as you are." Saying these words, and with a profound
       bow, the musketeer, whose looks had lost none of their intelligent
       kindness, left the apartment. He had not reached the steps of the
       vestibule, when Fouquet, quite beside himself, hung to the bell-rope, and
       shouted, "My horses! - my lighter!" But nobody answered. The
       surintendant dressed himself with everything that came to hand.
       "Gourville! - Gourville!" cried he, while slipping his watch into his
       pocket. And the bell sounded again, whilst Fouquet repeated, "Gourville!
       - Gourville!"
       Gourville at length appeared, breathless and pale.
       "Let us be gone! Let us be gone!" cried Fouquet, as soon as he saw him.
       "It is too late!" said the surintendant's poor friend.
       "Too late! - why?"
       "Listen!" And they heard the sounds of trumpets and drums in front of
       the castle.
       "What does that mean, Gourville?"
       "It means the king is come, monseigneur."
       "The king!"
       "The king, who has ridden double stages, who has killed horses, and who
       is eight hours in advance of all our calculations."
       "We are lost!" murmured Fouquet. "Brave D'Artagnan, all is over, thou
       has spoken to me too late!"
       The king, in fact, was entering the city, which soon resounded with the
       cannon from the ramparts, and from a vessel which replied from the lower
       parts of the river. Fouquet's brow darkened; he called his _valets de
       chambre_ and dressed in ceremonial costume. From his window, behind the
       curtains, he could see the eagerness of the people, and the movement of a
       large troop, which had followed the prince. The king was conducted to
       the castle with great pomp, and Fouquet saw him dismount under the
       portcullis, and say something in the ear of D'Artagnan, who held his
       stirrup. D'Artagnan, when the king had passed under the arch, directed
       his steps towards the house Fouquet was in; but so slowly, and stopping
       so frequently to speak to his musketeers, drawn up like a hedge, that it
       might be said he was counting the seconds, or the steps, before
       accomplishing his object. Fouquet opened the window to speak to him in
       the court.
       "Ah!" cried D'Artagnan, on perceiving him, "are you still there,
       monseigneur?"
       And that word _still_ completed the proof to Fouquet of how much
       information and how many useful counsels were contained in the first
       visit the musketeer had paid him. The surintendant sighed deeply.
       "Good heavens! yes, monsieur," replied he. "The arrival of the king has
       interrupted me in the projects I had formed."
       "Oh, then you know that the king has arrived?"
       "Yes, monsieur, I have seen him; and this time you come from him - "
       "To inquire after you, monseigneur; and, if your health is not too bad,
       to beg you to have the kindness to repair to the castle."
       "Directly, Monsieur d'Artagnan, directly!"
       "Ah, _mordioux!_" said the captain, "now the king is come, there is no
       more walking for anybody - no more free will; the password governs all
       now, you as much as me, me as much as you."
       Fouquet heaved a last sigh, climbed with difficulty into his carriage, so
       great was his weakness, and went to the castle, escorted by D'Artagnan,
       whose politeness was not less terrifying this time than it had just
       before been consoling and cheerful. _
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CHAPTER I - The Prisoner
CHAPTER II - How Mouston Had Become Fatter without Giving Porthos Notice Thereof
CHAPTER III - Who Messire Jean Percerin Was
CHAPTER IV - The Patterns
CHAPTER V - Where, Probably, Moliere Obtained His First Idea of the Bourgeois Gentilhomme
CHAPTER VI - The Bee-Hive, the Bees, and the Honey
CHAPTER VII - Another Supper at the Bastile
CHAPTER VIII - The General of the Order
CHAPTER IX - The Tempter
CHAPTER X - Crown and Tiara
CHAPTER XI - The Chateau de Vaux-le-Vicomte
CHAPTER XII - The Wine of Melun
CHAPTER XIII - Nectar and Ambrosia
CHAPTER XIV - A Gascon, and a Gascon and a Half
CHAPTER XV - Colbert
CHAPTER XVI - Jealousy
CHAPTER XVII - High Treason
CHAPTER XVIII - A Night at the Bastile
CHAPTER XIX - The Shadow of M Fouquet
CHAPTER XX - The Morning
CHAPTER XXI - The King's Friend
CHAPTER XXII - Showing How the Countersign Was Respected at the Bastile
CHAPTER XXIII - The King's Gratitude
CHAPTER XXIV - The False King
CHAPTER XXV - In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy
CHAPTER XXVI - The Last Adieux
CHAPTER XXVII - Monsieur de Beaufort
CHAPTER XXVIII - Preparations for Departure
CHAPTER XXIX - Planchet's Inventory
CHAPTER XXX - The Inventory of M de Beaufort
CHAPTER XXXI - The Silver Dish
CHAPTER XXXII - Captive and Jailers
CHAPTER XXXIII - Promises
CHAPTER XXXIV - Among Women
CHAPTER XXXV - The Last Supper
CHAPTER XXXVI - In M Colbert's Carriage
CHAPTER XXXVII - The Two Lighters
CHAPTER XXXVIII - Friendly Advice
CHAPTER XXXIX - How the King, Louis XIV, Played His Little Part
CHAPTER XL - The White Horse and the Black
CHAPTER XLI - In Which the Squirrel Falls, - the Adder Flies
CHAPTER XLII - Belle-Ile-en-Mer
CHAPTER XLIII - Explanations by Aramis
CHAPTER XLIV - Result of the Ideas of the King, and the Ideas of D'Artagnan
CHAPTER XLV - The Ancestors of Porthos
CHAPTER XLVI - The Son of Biscarrat
CHAPTER XLVII - The Grotto of Locmaria
CHAPTER XLVIII - The Grotto
CHAPTER XLIX - An Homeric Song
CHAPTER L - The Death of a Titan
CHAPTER LI - Porthos's Epitaph
CHAPTER LII - M de Gesvres's Round
CHAPTER LIII - King Louis XIV
CHAPTER LIV - M Fouquet's Friends
CHAPTER LV - Porthos's Will
CHAPTER LVI - The Old Age of Athos
CHAPTER LVII - Athos's Vision
CHAPTER LVIII - The Angel of Death
CHAPTER LIX - The Bulletin
CHAPTER LX - The Last Canto of the Poem
Footnote