France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
The coadjutor glanced rapidly behind and saw that he was followed by
another man. The curate then entered, followed by Planchet.
“Your holiness,” said the curate, “here is the person of whom I had the
honor to speak to you.”
Planchet saluted in the manner of one accustomed to fine houses.
“And you are disposed to serve the cause of the people?” asked Gondy.
“Most undoubtedly,” said Planchet. “I am a Frondist from my heart. You
see in me, such as I am, a person sentenced to be hung.”
“And on what account?”
“I rescued from the hands of Mazarin’s police a noble lord whom they
were conducting back to the Bastile, where he had been for five years.”
“Will you name him?”
“Oh, you know him well, my lord—it is Count de Rochefort.”
“Ah! really, yes,” said the coadjutor, “I have heard this affair
mentioned. You raised the whole district, so they told me!”
“Very nearly,” replied Planchet, with a self-satisfied air.
“And your business is——”
“That of a confectioner, in the Rue des Lombards.”
“Explain to me how it happens that, following so peaceful a business,
you had such warlike inclinations.”
“Why does my lord, belonging to the church, now receive me in the dress
of an officer, with a sword at his side and spurs to his boots?”
“Not badly answered, i’faith,” said Gondy, laughing; “but I have, you
must know, always had, in spite of my bands, warlike inclinations.”
“Well, my lord, before I became a confectioner I myself was three years
sergeant in the Piedmontese regiment, and before I became sergeant I
was for eighteen months the servant of Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
“The lieutenant of musketeers?” asked Gondy.
“Himself, my lord.”
“But he is said to be a furious Mazarinist.”
“Phew!” whistled Planchet.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing, my lord; Monsieur d’Artagnan belongs to the service; Monsieur
d’Artagnan makes it his business to defend the cardinal, who pays him,
as much as we make it ours, we citizens, to attack him, whom he robs.”
“You are an intelligent fellow, my friend; can we count upon you?”
“You may count upon me, my lord, provided you want to make a complete
upheaval of the city.”
“’Tis that exactly. How many men, think you, you could collect together
to-night?”
“Two hundred muskets and five hundred halberds.”
“Let there be only one man in every district who can do as much and by
to-morrow we shall have quite a powerful army. Are you disposed to obey
Count de Rochefort?”
“I would follow him to hell, and that is saying not a little, as I
believe him entirely capable of the descent.”
“Bravo!”
“By what sign to-morrow shall we be able to distinguish friends from
foes?”
“Every Frondist must put a knot of straw in his hat.”
“Good! Give the watchword.”
“Do you want money?”
“Money never comes amiss at any time, my lord; if one has it not, one
must do without it; with it, matters go on much better and more
rapidly.”
Gondy went to a box and drew forth a bag.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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