37

Twenty Years After

by Alexandre Dumas

37, TWENTY YEARS AFTER by Alexandre Dumas
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Cromwell's Letter.



At the very moment when the queen quitted the convent to go
to the Palais Royal, a young man dismounted at the gate of
this royal abode and announced to the guards that he had
something of importance to communicate to Cardinal Mazarin.
Although the cardinal was often tormented by fear, he was
more often in need of counsel and information, and he was
therefore sufficiently accessible. The true difficulty of
being admitted was not to be found at the first door, and
even the second was passed easily enough; but at the third
watched, besides the guard and the doorkeepers, the faithful
Bernouin, a Cerberus whom no speech could soften, no wand,
even of gold, could charm.

It was therefore at the third door that those who solicited
or were bidden to an audience underwent their formal
interrogatory.

The young man having left his horse tied to the gate in the
court, mounted the great staircase and addressed the guard
in the first chamber.

"Cardinal Mazarin?" said he.

"Pass on," replied the guard.

The cavalier entered the second hall, which was guarded by
the musketeers and doorkeepers.

"Have you a letter of audience?" asked a porter, advancing
to the new arrival.

"I have one, but not one from Cardinal Mazarin."

"Enter, and ask for Monsieur Bernouin," said the porter,
opening the door of the third room. Whether he only held his
usual post or whether it was by accident, Monsieur Bernouin
was found standing behind the door and must have heard all
that had passed.

"You seek me, sir," said he. "From whom may the letter be
you bear to his eminence?"

"From General Oliver Cromwell," said the new comer. "Be so
good as to mention this name to his eminence and to bring me
word whether he will receive me -- yes or no."

Saying which, he resumed the proud and sombre bearing
peculiar at that time to Puritans. Bernouin cast an
inquisitorial glance at the person of the young man and
entered the cabinet of the cardinal, to whom he transmitted
the messenger's words.

"A man bringing a letter from Oliver Cromwell?" said
Mazarin. "And what kind of a man?"

"A genuine Englishman, your eminence. Hair sandy-red -- more
red than sandy; gray-blue eyes -- more gray than blue; and
for the rest, stiff and proud."

"Let him give in his letter."

"His eminence asks for the letter," said Bernouin, passing
back into the ante-chamber.

"His eminence cannot see the letter without the bearer of
it," replied the young man; "but to convince you that I am
really the bearer of a letter, see, here it is; and kindly
add," continued he, "that I am not a simple messenger, but
an envoy extraordinary."

Bernouin re-entered the cabinet, returning in a few seconds.
"Enter, sir," said he.

The young man appeared on the threshold of the minister's
closet, in one hand holding his hat, in the other the
letter. Mazarin rose. "Have you, sir," asked he, "a letter
accrediting you to me?"

"There it is, my lord," said the young man.

Mazarin took the letter and read it thus:



"Mr. Mordaunt, one of my secretaries, will remit this letter
of introduction to His Eminence, the Cardinal Mazarin, in
Paris. He is also the bearer of a second confidential
epistle for his eminence.

"Oliver Cromwell.



"Very well, Monsieur Mordaunt," said Mazarin, "give me this
second letter and sit down."

The young man drew from his pocket a second letter,
presented it to the cardinal, and took his seat. The
cardinal, however, did not unseal the letter at once, but
continued to turn it again and again in his hand; then, in
accordance with his usual custom and judging from experience
that few people could hide anything from him when he began
to question them, fixing his eyes upon them at the same
time, he thus addressed the messenger:

"You are very young, Monsieur Mordaunt, for this difficult
task of ambassador, in which the oldest diplomatists often
fail."

"My lord, I am twenty-three years of age; but your eminence
is mistaken in saying that I am young. I am older than your
eminence, although I possess not your wisdom. Years of
suffering, in my opinion, count double, and I have suffered
for twenty years."

"Ah, yes, I understand," said Mazarin; "want of fortune,
perhaps. You are poor, are you not?" Then he added to
himself: "These English Revolutionists are all beggars and
ill-bred."

"My lord, I ought to have a fortune of six millions, but it
has been taken from me."

"You are not, then, a man of the people?" said Mazarin,
astonished.

"If I bore my proper title I should be a lord. If I bore my
name you would have heard one of the most illustrious names
of England."

"What is your name, then?" asked Mazarin.

"My name is Mordaunt," replied the young man, bowing.

Mazarin now understood that Cromwell's envoy desired to
retain his incognito. He was silent for an instant, and
during that time he scanned the young man even more
attentively than he had done at first. The messenger was
unmoved.

"Devil take these Puritans," said Mazarin aside; "they are
carved from granite." Then he added aloud, "But you have
relations left you?"

"I have one remaining. Three times I presented myself to ask
his support and three times he ordered his servants to turn
me away."

"Oh, mon Dieu! my dear Mr. Mordaunt," said Mazarin, hoping
by a display of affected pity to catch the young man in a
snare, "how extremely your history interests me! You know
not, then, anything of your birth -- you have never seen
your mother?"

"Yes, my lord; she came three times, whilst I was a child,
to my nurse's house; I remember the last time she came as
well as if it were to-day."

"You have a good memory," said Mazarin.

"Oh! yes, my lord," said the young man, with such peculiar
emphasis that the cardinal felt a shudder run through every
vein.

"And who brought you up?" he asked again.

"A French nurse, who sent me away when I was five years old
because no one paid her for me, telling me the name of a
relation of whom she had heard my mother often speak."

"What became of you?"

"As I was weeping and begging on the high road, a minister
from Kingston took me in, instructed me in the Calvinistic
faith, taught me all he knew himself and aided me in my
researches after my family."

"And these researches?"

"Were fruitless; chance did everything."

"You discovered what had become of your mother?"

"I learned that she had been assassinated by my relation,
aided by four friends, but I was already aware that I had
been robbed of my wealth and degraded from my nobility by
King Charles I."

"Oh! I now understand why you are in the service of
Cromwell; you hate the king."

"Yes, my lord, I hate him!" said the young man.

Mazarin marked with surprise the diabolical expression with
which the young man uttered these words. Just as,
ordinarily, faces are colored by blood, his face seemed dyed
by hatred and became livid.

"Your history is a terrible one, Mr. Mordaunt, and touches
me keenly; but happily for you, you serve an all-powerful
master; he ought to aid you in your search; we have so many
means of gaining information."

"My lord, to a well-bred dog it is only necessary to show
one end of a track; he is certain to reach the other."

"But this relation you mentioned -- do you wish me to speak
to him?" said Mazarin, who was anxious to make a friend
about Cromwell's person.

"Thanks, my lord, I will speak to him myself. He will treat
me better the next time I see him."

"You have the means, then, of touching him?"

"I have the means of making myself feared."

Mazarin looked at the young man, but at the fire which shot
from his glance he bent his head; then, embarrassed how to
continue such a conversation, he opened Cromwell's letter.

The young man's eyes gradually resumed their dull and glassy
appearance and he fell into a profound reverie. After
reading the first lines of the letter Mazarin gave a side
glance at him to see if he was watching the expression of
his face as he read. Observing his indifference, he shrugged
his shoulders, saying:

"Send on your business those who do theirs at the same time!
Let us see what this letter contains."

We here present the letter verbatim:



"To his Eminence, Monseigneur le Cardinal Mazarini:

"I have wished, monseigneur, to learn your intentions
relating to the existing state of affairs in England. The
two kingdoms are so near that France must be interested in
our situation, as we are interested in that of France. The
English are almost of one mind in contending against the
tyranny of Charles and his adherents. Placed by popular
confidence at the head of that movement, I can appreciate
better than any other its significance and its probable
results. I am at present in the midst of war, and am about
to deliver a decisive battle against King Charles. I shall
gain it, for the hope of the nation and the Spirit of the
Lord are with me. This battle won by me, the king will have
no further resources in England or in Scotland; and if he is
not captured or killed, he will endeavor to pass over into
France to recruit soldiers and to refurnish himself with
arms and money. France has already received Queen Henrietta,
and, unintentionally, doubtless, has maintained a centre of
inextinguishable civil war in my country. But Madame
Henrietta is a daughter of France and was entitled to the
hospitality of France. As to King Charles, the question must
be viewed differently; in receiving and aiding him, France
will censure the acts of the English nation, and thus so
essentially harm England, and especially the well-being of
the government, that such a proceeding will be equivalent to
pronounced hostilities."



At this moment Mazarin became very uneasy at the turn which
the letter was taking and paused to glance under his eyes at
the young man. The latter continued in thought. Mazarin
resumed his reading:



"It is important, therefore, monseigneur, that I should be
informed as to the intentions of France. The interests of
that kingdom and those of England, though taking now diverse
directions, are very nearly the same. England needs
tranquillity at home, in order to consummate the expulsion
of her king; France needs tranquillity to establish on solid
foundations the throne of her young monarch. You need, as
much as we do, that interior condition of repose which,
thanks to the energy of our government, we are about to
attain.

"Your quarrels with the parliament, your noisy dissensions
with the princes, who fight for you to-day and to-morrow
will fight against you, the popular following directed by
the coadjutor, President Blancmesnil, and Councillor
Broussel -- all that disorder, in short, which pervades the
several departments of the state, must lead you to view with
uneasiness the possibility of a foreign war; for in that
event England, exalted by the enthusiasm of new ideas, will
ally herself with Spain, already seeking that alliance. I
have therefore believed, monseigneur, knowing your prudence
and your personal relation to the events of the present
time, that you will choose to hold your forces concentrated
in the interior of the French kingdom and leave to her own
the new government of England. That neutrality consists
simply in excluding King Charles from the territory of
France and in refraining from helping him -- a stranger to
your country -- with arms, with money or with troops.

"My letter is private and confidential, and for that reason
I send it to you by a man who shares my most intimate
counsels. It anticipates, through a sentiment which your
eminence will appreciate, measures to be taken after the
events. Oliver Cromwell considered it more expedient to
declare himself to a mind as intelligent as Mazarin's than
to a queen admirable for firmness, without doubt, but too
much guided by vain prejudices of birth and of divine right.

"Farewell, monseigneur; should I not receive a reply in the
space of fifteen days, I shall presume my letter will have
miscarried.

"Oliver Cromwell."



"Mr. Mordaunt," said the cardinal, raising his voice, as if
to arouse the dreamer, "my reply to this letter will be more
satisfactory to General Cromwell if I am convinced that all
are ignorant of my having given one; go, therefore, and
await it at Boulogne-sur-Mer, and promise me to set out
to-morrow morning."

"I promise, my lord," replied Mordaunt; "but how many days
does your eminence expect me to await your reply?"

"If you do not receive it in ten days you can leave."

Mordaunt bowed.

"That is not all, sir," continued Mazarin; "your private
adventures have touched me to the quick; besides, the letter
from Mr. Cromwell makes you an important person as
ambassador; come, tell me, what can I do for you?"

Mordaunt reflected a moment and, after some hesitation, was
about to speak, when Bernouin entered hastily and bending
down to the ear of the cardinal, whispered:

"My lord, the Queen Henrietta Maria, accompanied by an
English noble, is entering the Palais Royal at this moment."

Mazarin made a bound from his chair, which did not escape
the attention of the young man and suppressed the confidence
he was about to make.

"Sir," said the cardinal, "you have heard me? I fix on
Boulogne because I presume that every town in France is
indifferent to you; if you prefer another, name it; but you
can easily conceive that, surrounded as I am by influences I
can only muzzle by discretion, I desire your presence in
Paris to be unknown."

"I go, sir," said Mordaunt, advancing a few steps to the
door by which he had entered.

"No, not that way, I beg, sir," quickly exclaimed the
cardinal, "be so good as to pass by yonder gallery, by which
you can regain the hall. I do not wish you to be seen
leaving; our interview must be kept secret."

Mordaunt followed Bernouin, who led him through the adjacent
chamber and left him with a doorkeeper, showing him the way
out.