Twenty Years After | Page 6

or increase their burdens; but
scarcely was it known that the taxes were to be still further increased,
when cries of "Down with Mazarin!" "Long live Broussel!" "Long live
Blancmesnil!" resounded through the city. For the people had learned
that Broussel and Blancmesnil had made speeches in their behalf, and,
although the eloquence of these deputies had been without avail, it had
none the less won for them the people's good-will. All attempts to
disperse the groups collected in the streets, or silence their
exclamations, were in vain. Orders had just been given to the royal
guards and the Swiss guards, not only to stand firm, but to send out
patrols to the streets of Saint Denis and Saint Martin, where the people
thronged and where they were the most vociferous, when the mayor of
Paris was announced at the Palais Royal.
He was shown in directly; he came to say that if these offensive
precautions were not discontinued, in two hours Paris would be under
arms.
Deliberations were being held when a lieutenant in the guards, named
Comminges, made his appearance, with his clothes all torn, his face
streaming with blood. The queen on seeing him uttered a cry of
surprise and asked him what was going on.
As the mayor had foreseen, the sight of the guards had exasperated the
mob. The tocsin was sounded. Comminges had arrested one of the
ringleaders and had ordered him to be hanged near the cross of Du
Trahoir; but in attempting to execute this command the soldiery were

attacked in the market-place with stones and halberds; the delinquent
had escaped to the Rue des Lombards and rushed into a house. They
broke open the doors and searched the dwelling, but in vain.
Comminges, wounded by a stone which had struck him on the forehead,
had left a picket in the street and returned to the Palais Royal, followed
by a menacing crowd, to tell his story.
This account confirmed that of the mayor. The authorities were not in a
condition to cope with serious revolt. Mazarin endeavored to circulate
among the people a report that troops had only been stationed on the
quays and on the Pont Neuf, on account of the ceremonial of the day,
and that they would soon withdraw. In fact, about four o'clock they
were all concentrated about the Palais Royal, the courts and ground
floors of which were filled with musketeers and Swiss guards, and
there awaited the outcome of all this disturbance.
Such was the state of affairs at the very moment we introduced our
readers to the study of Cardinal Mazarin -- once that of Cardinal
Richelieu. We have seen in what state of mind he listened to the
murmurs from below, which even reached him in his seclusion, and to
the guns, the firing of which resounded through that room. All at once
he raised his head; his brow slightly contracted like that of a man who
has formed a resolution; he fixed his eyes upon an enormous clock that
was about to strike ten, and taking up a whistle of silver gilt that stood
upon the table near him, he shrilled it twice.
A door hidden in the tapestry opened noiselessly and a man in black
silently advanced and stood behind the chair on which Mazarin sat.
"Bernouin," said the cardinal, not turning round, for having whistled,
he knew that it was his valet-de-chambre who was behind him; "what
musketeers are now within the palace?"
"The Black Musketeers, my lord."
"What company?"
"Treville's company."
"Is there any officer belonging to this company in the ante-chamber?"
"Lieutenant d'Artagnan."
"A man on whom we can depend, I hope."
"Yes, my lord."
"Give me a uniform of one of these musketeers and help me to put it
on."

The valet went out as silently as he had entered and appeared in a few
minutes bringing the dress demanded.
The cardinal, in deep thought and in silence, began to take off the robes
of state he had assumed in order to be present at the sitting of
parliament, and to attire himself in the military coat, which he wore
with a certain degree of easy grace, owing to his former campaigns in
Italy. When he was completely dressed he said:
"Send hither Monsieur d'Artagnan."
The valet went out of the room, this time by the centre door, but still as
silently as before; one might have fancied him an apparition.
When he was left alone the cardinal looked at himself in the glass with
a feeling of self-satisfaction. Still young -- for he was scarcely forty-six
years of age -- he possessed great elegance of form and was above the
middle height; his complexion was brilliant and beautiful; his glance
full of expression; his nose, though large, was