“She went to the house of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, and she went to the Duke of Buckingham’s.”
“Yes,” cried Bonacieux, recalling all the circumstances—“yes, that’s it. Your Eminence is right. I told my wife several times that it was surprising that linen-drapers should live in such houses—in houses that had no signs—and every time she began to laugh. Ah, monseigneur!” continued Bonacieux, throwing himself at his Eminence’s feet—“ah, how truly you are the cardinal, the great cardinal, the man of genius whom all the world reveres!”
However contemptible might be the triumph gained over so vulgar a being as Bonacieux, the cardinal did not the less enjoy it for an instant. Then, almost immediately, as if a new thought had entered his mind, a smile passed over his lips, and reaching out his hand to the mercer,“Rise, my friend,” said he; “you are an honest man.”
“The cardinal has touched me with his hand! I have touched the hand of the great man!” cried Bonacieux. “The great man has called me his friend!”
“Yes, my friend, yes,” said the cardinal, with that paternal tone which he sometimes knew how to assume, but which deceived only those who did not know him; “and as you have been unjustly suspected—well, you must be indemnified. Here! take this purse of a hundred pistoles, and pardon me.”
“I pardon you, monseigneur!” said Bonacieux, hesitating to take the purse, fearing, doubtless, that this pretended gift was only a joke. “But you are free to have me arrested, you are free to have me tortured, you are free to have me hung. You are the master, and I should not have the least word to say about it. Pardon you, monseigneur! you cannot mean that.”
“Ah, my dear Monsieur Bonacieux, you are generous in this matter, and I thank you for it. So you will take this purse, and you will go away without being too much dissatisfied with your treatment?”
“I shall go away enchanted.”
“Farewell, then—that is to say, for the present, for I hope we shall meet again.”
“Whenever monseigneur wishes. I am always at his Eminence’s orders.”
“And that will be frequently, I assure you, for I have found something extremely agreeable in your conversation.”
“O monseigneur!”
“Au revoir, Monsieur Bonacieux, au revoir!”
And the cardinal made him a sign with his hand, to which Bonacieux replied by bowing to the ground. He then backed himself out, and when he was in the antechamber the cardinal heard him, in his enthusiasm, crying aloud, “Long life to monseigneur! Long life to his Eminence! Long life to the great cardinal!” The cardinal listened with a smile to this vociferous manifestation of M. Bonacieux’s enthusiasm; and then, when Bonacieux’s cries were no longer audible.
“Good!” said he; “here’s a man who, henceforward, would lay down his life for me.”
Left alone, the cardinal sat down again, wrote a letter, which he sealed with his private seal, then rang the bell. The officer entered for the fourth time.
“Have Vitray sent to me,” said he, “and tell him to be ready for a journey.”
An instant after the man he required was before him, booted and spurred.
“Vitray,” said he, “you will go with all speed to London. You must not stop an instant on the way. You will deliver this letter to milady. Here is an order for two hundred pistoles; call upon my treasurer and get the money. You shall have as much again if you are back within six days, and have executed your commission well.”
The messenger, without replying a single word, bowed, took the letter, with the order for the two hundred pistoles, and went out.
These were the contents of the letter:
“Milady,—Be at the first ball at which the Duke of Buckingham shall be present. He will wear on his doublet twelve diamond studs. Get as near to him as you can, and cut off two of them.
“As soon as these studs are in your possession, inform me.”
