Shadow of the Bastille
Episode 37
Shadow of the Bastille
Being the Fourth Part of Le Vicomte de Bragelonne
By Alexandre Dumas
Edited and Translated by Lawrence Ellsworth
In Last Week’s Episode
Disaster! No matter how much Monsieur Vanel was offered to back out of buying from him Minister of Finance Fouquet’s office of attorney general, Vanel refused to reconsider, even when Aramis offered him fabulous sums of secret Jesuit gold. Now that Fouquet would no longer have immunity from prosecution, it’s impossible for him to avoid ruinous financial scandal. Aramis, with plans of his own to change the playing field, advised Fouquet to proceed at once with a royal fête at his estate of Vaux-le-Vicomte, inviting not just King Louis XIV but “Everyone!”
Chapter XLI
In Which the Author Feels It’s High Time to Return to the Vicomte de Bragelonne
Our readers have watched this story unfold as it recounts the adventures of the new generation and the old. For the latter it reflects on the glory of the past and their experience of the world’s sorrow. But there’s also the peace that soothes the heart and enables the blood to heal the scars of cruel wounds.
To the young come the struggles of love and pride, bitter heartache and ineffable joy: life instead of memory.
If the reader sees some contrasting colors in these episodes, they derive from the interplay of hues in this double palette, as if two paintings are daubed side by side with the harmony and discord of their somber and joyful tones. The repose of age grows from the riot of youth, and then, after the sober reasoning of old men, we enjoy the delirium of the young.
So, though the threads of our story as it now continues don’t strongly tie in with those of the previous chapter, we won’t worry about that anymore than Ruisdael78 did when turning to paint an autumn sky after just completing one of spring. We urge the reader to do the same and pick up the story of Raoul de Bragelonne from where we last left off.
Dazed, terrified, heartbroken, without reason, will, or direction, he fled from the scene in La Vallière’s room. The king, Louise, Montalais, the bedchamber, the unexpected rejection, Louise’s grief, Montalais’s dread, the king’s anger, all foreshadowed some kind of catastrophe. But what?
Arriving from London because he’d been warned of danger, he instead found the appearance of betrayal. Shouldn’t that be enough to enrage a lover? Yes, of course—but not for a noble heart proud of its connection to another like itself.
Therefore, Raoul didn’t immediately seek explanations from where jealous or hasty lovers would go first. He didn’t go to his intended and say, “Louise, don’t you love me anymore? Louise, do you love another?” A man of courage, as full of friendship as he was of love, beholden to his oath and believing in the vows of others, Raoul said to himself, “De Guiche wrote to warn me; de Guiche knows something; I’ll go to de Guiche, tell him what I saw and ask him what he knows.”
He hadn’t far to go. De Guiche, brought back to Paris from Fontainebleau only two days before, was in his rooms where he was recovering from his injuries and beginning to take a few tottering steps. He let out a cry of joy when he saw Raoul enter, hale and flushed with friendship. Raoul gasped in dismay when he saw de Guiche so pale, emaciated, and melancholy. Two words and his feeble embrace were enough to tell Raoul the story.
“So, here we are,” said Raoul, sitting down next to his friend. “We love and we die.”
“No, we don’t die, not quite yet,” replied de Guiche, smiling, “since I’m next to you with my arm around your shoulders.”
“Yes, I hear you!”
“As I hear you. You’ve convinced yourself that I’m unhappy.”
“Alas! Yes.”
“But no. I’m the happiest of men! I’m suffering in my body but not in my heart or soul. Oh, if you only knew how happy I am!”
“All the better,” replied Raoul, “as long as it lasts.”
“It’s in the past already, Raoul, but I’ll still have it for the rest of my life.”
“For you, I’m sure, but she….”
“My friend, I’ll love her until… but you’re not listening to me.”
“Please pardon me.”
“You have something on your mind?”
“Yes—first of all, your health.”
“That’s not it.”
“You, dear friend, should be the last to wonder what it is.” And he emphasized you to enlighten his friend to the nature of the problem.
“You say that, Raoul, because of what I wrote to you.”
“Of course. Shall we talk about it when you’re done telling me of your happiness and your sorrows?”
“Cher ami, we’ll speak of it now.”
“Thank you! I can’t wait. I’m on fire… I got here from London in half the time a courier usually takes. So, what was it all about?”
“Nothing, my friend, other than to summon you.”
“Well! Here I am.”
“And I’m glad.”
“Was there… something else?”
“Faith, no!”
“De Guiche!”
“On my honor!”
“You didn’t dash my every hope, you didn’t expose me to disgrace by calling me home in opposition to the king’s command, you didn’t wrap the serpent of jealousy around my heart just to tell me, ‘Everything’s fine, I’m glad to see you.’”
“I’m not saying everything’s fine, Raoul, but listen to me when I tell you there’s nothing more I can say.”
“Oh, my friend, what kind of fool do you take me for?”
“What?”
“If you know something, why hide it from me? If you know nothing, why send for me?”
“Yes, you’re right and I’m wrong. It’s just that I’m sorry I did it, Raoul. It’s one thing to write to a friend, ‘Come home!’ It’s quite another to look him in the face, see him tremble, gasping in anticipation of hearing what no one dares to tell him….”
“Dare! I can take it if you can’t,” cried Raoul in despair.
“That isn’t a fair thing to say to a poor wounded friend, the other half of your heart. Don’t be so fierce. I told you, ‘Come home,’ and you came. Don’t ask this poor shadow of a de Guiche for more than that.”
“You told me to come, hoping I’d see for myself, is that it?”
“Well….”
“Wait no longer. I’ve seen.”
“Ah…!” said de Guiche.
“Or at least, so I think….”
“You see, you have doubts. But now that you have your doubts, my poor friend, what more is there for me to do?”
“I saw La Vallière upset… Montalais troubled… and the king….”
“The king?”
“Yes… and there you turn away. That’s where the danger is, isn’t it? It’s the king.”
“I say nothing.”
“Oh, you say a thousand times more than nothing! Facts, in the name of God, facts, I beg you! My friend, my only friend, talk to me! My heart is pierced and bleeding, I’m dying of despair…!”
“If that’s so, dear Raoul, then I feel better about talking,” replied de Guiche. “I’m sure anything I have to tell you must be better than despair.”
“I’m listening!”
“Well,” said the count, “I can certainly tell you what you’d hear from whoever you met.”
“Whoever I met! Is everyone talking about it?” cried Raoul.
“Before you say, ‘Everyone’s talking about it,’ my friend, be sure what you’re talking about. Some things are fundamentally innocent, like the promenade….”
“Ah! A royal promenade with the king?”
“Yes, with the king. And it seems to me that the king goes for walks with ladies without….”
“I repeat, you wouldn’t have written to me about a mere promenade with the king.”
“And I know that during the rainstorm it would have been better for the king to take shelter than to stand bareheaded while covering La Vallière, but….”
“But…?”
“The king’s just so polite!”
“Oh, de Guiche, you’re killing me!”
“Then I’ll stop.”
“No! Go on. Was this promenade followed by others?”
“No… or rather, yes. There was the adventure of the Royal Oak. Does that count?”
Raoul stood suddenly. De Guiche tried to emulate him despite his weakness and fell back. “You see?” he said. “Not another word from me—I’ve said either too much or too little. Others can tell you what they like, if they so desire. My job was to warn you, and I did that. Now this matter is up to you.”
“Go and ask others? Alas, no real friend would talk that way,” said the sad young man. “The first person I talk to will be either a villain or a fool; if he’s mean-spirited, he’ll lie to torment me, and if he’s stupid, it’ll be even worse. Ah, de Guiche! Before two o’clock I’ll have heard ten lies and fought ten duels. Save me! Tell me the worst now.”
“But I don’t know anything, really! I was wounded and feverish, my senses were swimming, and I have only vague recollections of what I heard. But pardieu, why go talking to strangers? Isn’t d’Artagnan your friend?”
“Oh, that’s true! That’s true!”
“Go to him. On these affairs, he’ll shed light without blinding you.”
A lackey entered. “What is it?” asked de Guiche.
“Monsieur le Comte is awaited in the Hall of Porcelains.”
“Good. Will you excuse me, Raoul? Now that I can walk again, I’m so proud!”
“I’d offer you my arm, de Guiche, but I imagine you’re awaited by a lady.”
“I imagine you’re right,” replied de Guiche, smiling. And he took his leave of Raoul.
The latter remained motionless, paralyzed and crushed, like a miner upon whom the ceiling has collapsed; wounded and bleeding, the miner’s thoughts cool as he tries to think his way out of the trap. A few minutes were enough for Raoul to dispel the daze of two stunning revelations. His thoughts were nearly sorted out when, through the tapestry door, he thought he heard Montalais’s voice coming from the nearby Hall of Porcelains.
“Montalais!” he said to himself. “Now, there’s a woman who could tell me the truth. But could I question her now? She’d just evade me, she’s probably on an errand for Madame. I’ll see her in her rooms later. She can explain to me her fear, her flight, the awkwardness with which I was sent away, she can explain it all… after I talk to d’Artagnan, who knows everything, and while my heart is still strong. Madame Henrietta is a flirt, a coquette, even. But she’s high-spirited and enjoys life, and if she’s a coquette to de Guiche, she still makes him say he’s the happiest of men. His life, at least, is all roses. As for me, away!”
He darted from the count’s rooms, and after reproaching himself on the way for having spoken to his friend only of his own affairs, he arrived at d’Artagnan’s quarters.
ALEXANDRE DUMAS’ MUSKETEERS CYCLE
Shadow of the Bastille is part of a series. Everyone has heard of The Three Musketeers and its heroes d’Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, but what’s less well known nowadays is that Dumas followed up his greatest novel with a series of sequels that are just as great. Your Cheerful Editor Lawrence Ellsworth has been compiling all-new contemporary translations of these novels, and the entire series, when complete, will fill nine volumes:
- The Three Musketeers, Book One
- The Red Sphinx, Book Two
- Twenty Years After, Book Three
- Blood Royal, Book Four
- Between Two Kings, Book Five
- Court of Daggers, Book Six
- Devil’s Dance, Book Seven
- Shadow of the Bastille, Book Eight
- The Man in the Iron Mask, Book Nine
Volumes one through seven are already in print, the first five from Pegasus Books, while Books Six, Court of Daggers, and Seven, Devil’s Dance, are available as independent publications. Each week now brings a new episode in the serialization of Book Eight, Shadow of the Bastille. Early 2025 will see the publication of the final volume, The Man in the Iron Mask.
If you’re interested in my work, you can learn more about it at swashbucklingadventure.net. Also, be sure to check out my parallel Substack, cinemaofswords.substack.com.
Welcome, fellow cavaliers, and enjoy the ride!
—Lawrence Ellsworth
Copyright © 2024 Lawrence Schick. All rights reserved.
