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The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 59 at Prostate Health
a prisoner
will escape, tis plain that the cardinal will take measures
of precaution and that the prisoner will not escape."
"Good Lord!" said another guard, who might have been thought
asleep on a bench, but who had lost not a syllable of the
conversation, "do you suppose that men can escape their
destiny? If it is written yonder, in Heaven, that the Duc de
Beaufort is to escape, he will escape; and all the
precautions of the cardinal will not prevent it."
Mazarin started. He was an Italian and therefore
superstitious. He walked straight into the midst of the
guards, who on seeing him were silent.
"What were you saying?" he asked with his flattering manner;
"that Monsieur de Beaufort had escaped, were you not?"
"Oh, no, my lord!" said the incredulous soldier. "Hes well
guarded now; we only said he would escape."
"Who said so?"
"Repeat your story, Saint Laurent," replied the man, turning
to the originator of the tale.
"My lord," said the guard, "I have simply mentioned the
prophecy I heard from a man named Coysel, who believes that,
be he ever so closely watched and guarded, the Duke of
Beaufort will escape before Whitsuntide."
"Coysel is a madman!" returned the cardinal.
"No," replied the soldier, tenacious in his credulity; "he
has foretold many things which have come to pass; for
instance, that the queen would have a son; that Monsieur
Coligny would be killed in a duel with the Duc de Guise; and
finally, that the coadjutor would be made cardinal. Well!
the queen has not only one son, but two; then, Monsieur de
Coligny was killed, and ---- "
"Yes," said Mazarin, "but the coadjutor is not yet made
cardinal!"
"No, my lord, but he will be," answered the guard.
Mazarin made a grimace, as if he meant to say, "But he does
not wear the cardinals cap;" then he added:
"So, my friend, its your opinion that Monsieur de Beaufort
will escape?"
"Thats my idea, my lord; and if your eminence were to offer
to make me at this moment governor of the castle of
Vincennes, I should refuse it. After Whitsuntide it would be
another thing."
There is nothing so convincing as a firm conviction. It has
its own effect upon the most incredulous; and far from being
incredulous, Mazarin was superstitious. He went away
thoughtful and anxious and returned to his own room, where
he summoned Bernouin and desired him to fetch thither in the
morning the special guard he had placed over Monsieur de
Beaufort and to awaken him whenever he should arrive.
The guard had, in fact, touched the cardinal in the
tenderest point. During the whole five years in which the
Duc de Beaufort had been in prison not a day had passed in
which the cardinal had not felt a secret dread of his
escape. It was not possible, as he knew well, to confine for
the whole of his life the grandson of Henry IV., especially
when this young prince was scarcely thirty years of age. But
however and whensoever he did escape, what hatred he must
cherish against him to whom he owed his long imprisonment;
who had taken him, rich, brave, glorious, beloved by women,
feared by men, to cut off his lifes best, happiest years;
for it is not life, it is merely existence, in prison!
Meantime, Mazarin redoubled his surveillance over the duke.
But like the miser in the fable, he could not sleep for
thinking of his treasure. Often he awoke in the night,
suddenly, dreaming that he had been robbed of Monsieur de
Beaufort. Then he inquired about him and had the vexation of
hearing that the prisoner played, drank, sang, but that
whilst playing, drinking, singing, he often stopped short to
vow that Mazarin should pay dear for all the amusements he
had forced him to enter into at Vincennes.
So much did this one idea haunt the cardinal even in his
sleep, that when at seven in the morning Bernouin came to
arouse him, his first words were: "Well, whats the matter?
Has Monsieur de Beaufort escaped from Vincennes?"
"I do not think so, my lord," said Bernouin; "but you will
hear about him, for La Ramee is here and awaits the commands
of your eminence."
"Tell him to come in," said Mazarin, arranging his pillows,
so that he might receive the visitor sitting up in bed.
The officer entered, a large fat man, with an open
physiognomy. His air of perfect serenity made Mazarin
uneasy.
"Approach, sir," said the cardinal.
The officer obeyed.
"Do you know what they are saying here?"
"No, your eminence."
"Well, they say that Monsieur de Beaufort is going
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