"God bless you, Mademoiselle. Tell her for me that whatever her
indictments are, I am innocent; and that we do not love when we do not
trust."
She gave him a curious glance. "You have not yet discovered who she
is?"
"No, Mademoiselle. Will you tell me?"
"She is . . . No; to tell you would be wrong and it would do you no
good. Forget her, Chevalier. I should." And she drew the curtain and
ordered her lackeys to drive on.
"It is snowing," said the Chevalier, irrelevantly, when the musketeers
rejoined him.
"So it is, so it is," one replied. "Put on your hat, Monsieur, or my
word for it, you will catch a devil of a chill."
The Chevalier put on his hat. "Five years . . . his Eminence said five
years?"
"Yes, Monsieur. But what are five years to a man like yourself? You
have youth and money, and the little Rochellaises are pretty. My word!
the time will pass quickly enough. Come; we will go to your lodging.
Did his Eminence say anything about wine, Georges?" to his companion.
"Nothing prohibitory. I once heard him say 'Bonum vinum laetificat
cor hominis.'"
"What does that mean?"
"Good wine rejoices the heart of man. Let us watch for the dawn with
the Chevalier, who is a man in all things. Monsieur, whoever your
friend may be, I hope he is not without gratitude."
"Yes, yes! Let's off to the Chevalier's. The Candlestick has some
fine burgundy. It is cold and wine warms the heart."
The Chevalier burst into a despairing laugh, "Wine! That is the word,
my comrades. On to the Candlestick!" he cried in a high voice. He
caught the musketeers by the arms and dragged them toward the gate.
"Wine rejoices the heart of man: and one forgets. Let Mazarin take
away my liberty; praise be to Bacchus, he can not take away my thirst!
And oh! I shall be thirsty these five long years. On to the
Candlestick! I know a mellow vintage; and we three shall put the
candle out to-night."
And the three of them made off for the Candlestick.
Dawn. A Swiss leaned sleepily against one of the stone abutments which
supported the barriers of the Porte Saint Antoine. These barriers
would not be raised for the general public till nine; yet the Swiss,
rubbing his gummed eyes, saw the approach of three men, one of whom was
leading a handsome Spanish jennet. The three men walked unevenly, now
and then laughing uproariously and slapping one another on the back.
Presently one stepped upon a slippery cobble and went sprawling into
the snow, to the great merriment of his companions, who had some
difficulty in raising the fallen man to his feet.
"Go along with you, Messieurs," said the Swiss enviously; "you are all
drunk."