The Forty-Five Guardsmen. Dumas Alexandre

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      CHAPTER XIV.

      THE SHADE OF CHICOT

      The king, as we have said, was never deceived as to the character of his friends; he knew perfectly well that D'Epernon was working for his own advantage, but as he expected to have had to give and receive nothing in return, whereas he had got forty-five guards, he had thought it a good idea. Besides, it was a novelty, which was a thing that a poor king of France could not always get, and especially Henri III., who, when he had gone through his processions, counted his dogs, and uttered his usual number of sighs, had nothing left to do. Therefore he became more and more pleased with the idea as he returned to his room.

      "These men are doubtless brave, and will be perhaps very devoted," thought he; "and forty-five swords always ready to leap from their scabbards are a grand thing."

      This thought brought to his mind the other devoted swords that he regretted so bitterly. He became sad again, and inquired for Joyeuse. They replied that he had not returned.

      "Then call my valets-de-chambre."

      When he was in bed, they asked if his reader should attend, for Henri was subject to long fits of wakefulness, and was often read to sleep.

      "No," replied the king, "I want no one; only if M. de Joyeuse returns, bring him to me."

      "If he returns late, sire?"

      "Alas! he is always late; but whatever be the hour, bring him here."

      The servants extinguished the candles and lighted a lamp of essences, which gave a pale blue flame, that the king liked. Henri was tired, and soon slept, but not for long; he awoke, thinking he heard a noise in the room.

      "Joyeuse," he asked; "is it you?"

      No one replied. The light burned dim, and only threw faint circles on the ceiling of carved oak.

      "Alone, still!" murmured the king. "Mon Dieu! I am alone all my life, as I shall be after death."

      "'Alone after death'; that is not certain," said a powerful voice near the bed.

      The king started up and looked round him in terror. "I know that voice," cried he.

      "Ah! that is lucky," replied the voice.

      "It is like the voice of Chicot."

      "You burn, Henri: you burn."

      Then the king, getting half out of bed, saw a man sitting in the very chair which he had pointed out to D'Epernon.

      "Heaven protect me!" cried he; "it is the shade of Chicot."

      "Ah! my poor Henriquet, are you still so foolish?"

      "What do you mean?"

      "That shades cannot speak, having no body, and consequently no tongue."

      "Then you are Chicot, himself?" cried the king, joyfully.

      "Do not be too sure."

      "Then you are not dead, my poor Chicot?"

      "On the contrary; I am dead."

      "Chicot, my only friend."

      "You, at least, are not changed."

      "But you, Chicot, are you changed?"

      "I hope so."

      "Chicot, my friend, why did you leave me?"

      "Because I am dead."

      "You said just now that you were not dead."

      "Dead to some – alive to others."

      "And to me?" – "Dead."

      "Why dead to me?"

      "It is easy to comprehend that you are not the master here."

      "How?"

      "You can do nothing for those who serve you."

      "Chicot!"

      "Do not be angry, or I shall be so, also."

      "Speak then, my friend," said the king, fearful that Chicot would vanish.

      "Well, I had a little affair to settle with M. de Mayenne, you remember?"

      "Perfectly."

      "I settled it; I beat this valiant captain without mercy. He sought for me to hang me; and you, whom I thought would protect me, abandoned me, and made peace with him. Then I declared myself dead and buried by the aid of my friend Gorenflot, so that M. de Mayenne has ceased to search for me."

      "What a frightful courage you had, Chicot; did you not know the grief your death would cause me?"

      "I have never lived so tranquilly as since the world thought me dead."

      "Chicot, my head turns; you frighten me – I know not what to think."

      "Well! settle something."

      "I think that you are dead and – "

      "Then I lie; you are polite."

      "You commence by concealing some things from me; but presently, like the orators of antiquity, you will tell me terrible truths."

      "Oh! as to that, I do not say no. Prepare, poor king!"

      "If you are not a shade, how could you come unnoticed into my room, through the guarded corridors?" And Henri, abandoning himself to new terrors, threw himself down in the bed and covered up his head.

      "Come, come," cried Chicot; "you have only to touch me to be convinced."

      "But how did you come?"

      "Why, I have still the key that you gave me, and which I hung round my neck to enrage your gentlemen, and with this I entered."

      "By the secret door, then?"

      "Certainly."

      "And why to-day more than yesterday?"

      "Ah! that you shall hear."

      Henri, sitting up again, said like a child, "Do not tell me anything disagreeable, Chicot; I am so glad to see you again."

      "I will tell the truth; so much the worse if it be disagreeable."

      "But your fear of Mayenne is not serious?"

      "Very serious, on the contrary. You understand that M. de Mayenne gave me fifty blows with a stirrup leather, in return for which I gave him one hundred with the sheath of my sword. No doubt he thinks, therefore, that he still owes me fifty, so that I should not have come to you now, however great your need, had I not known him to be at Soissons."

      "Well, Chicot, I take you now under my protection, and I wish that you should be resuscitated and appear openly."

      "What folly!"

      "I will protect you, on my royal word."

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