Chapter 26: The Warning: II
"And I, sire," said Blacas, "will go fetch my messenger."
"Wait, sir, wait," said Louis XVIII. "Really, Blacas, I should change your family coat of arms. I’ll give you an eagle with outstretched wings, gripping prey that tries in vain to escape, with the motto ’Tenacious.’"
"Sire, I’m listening," said Blacas, biting his nails impatiently.
"I want to consult you about this Latin passage about a stag fleeing from a wolf. You’re a sportsman and expert wolf-hunter, aren’t you? What do you think of this phrase describing the stag’s gentle panting?"
"Admirable, sire, but my messenger is like that stag you mention, he’s traveled 660 miles in barely three days."
"Which means great fatigue and anxiety, my dear duke, when we have a telegraph that transmits messages in three or four hours without anyone getting breathless."
"Ah, sire, you poorly reward this young man who has come so far with such enthusiasm to bring Your Majesty useful information. If only for the sake of his recommender, I beg Your Majesty to receive him graciously."
"His recommender is your brother’s chamberlain?"
"Yes, sire."
"He’s in Marseilles."
"And writes to me from there."
"Does he mention this conspiracy?"
"No, but he strongly recommends this man and begs me to present him to Your Majesty."
"What!" cried the king. "Is the messenger’s name Villefort?"
"Yes, sire."
"And he comes from Marseilles?"
"In person."
"Why didn’t you mention his name immediately?" the king replied, showing sudden concern.
"Sire, I assumed his name was unknown to Your Majesty."
"No, no, Blacas. He’s a man of strong intelligence and high ambition, and you know his father’s name!"
"His father?"
"Yes, Noirtier."
"Noirtier the radical? The former senator who opposed the monarchy?"
"The very same."
"And Your Majesty has employed such a man’s son?"
"Blacas, my friend, your understanding is limited. I told you Villefort is ambitious. To achieve that ambition, he would sacrifice everything, even his own father."
"Then, sire, may I present him?"
"Immediately, duke! Where is he?"
"Waiting below in my carriage."
"Bring him at once."
"I’ll hurry." The duke left the royal presence with the energy of a young man, his genuine loyalty to the crown made him feel youthful again. Louis XVIII remained alone, turning his eyes to his half-open book and murmuring, "A man just and firm in his purpose."
Blacas returned as quickly as he had left, but in the antechamber he had to invoke the king’s authority. Villefort’s dusty clothes and travel-worn appearance, definitely not suitable for court, offended the royal protocol officer, who was shocked that this young man had the audacity to appear before the king in such attire.
However, the duke overcame all objections with a single phrase: "His Majesty’s orders." Despite the protocol officer’s protests about the honor of his position and principles, Villefort was admitted.
The king remained seated where the duke had left him. Upon opening the door, Villefort found himself face-to-face with the monarch, and the young magistrate’s first instinct was to hesitate.
"Come in, Villefort," said the king. "Come in."
Villefort bowed and, advancing a few steps, waited for the king to question him.
"Villefort," said Louis XVIII, "the Duke of Blacas assures me you have important information to share."
"Sire, the duke is correct, and I believe Your Majesty will find it equally urgent."
"First, before anything else, sir, is the news as bad as I’m being asked to believe?"
"Sire, I believe the situation is critical, but I hope my speed in coming here means it’s not too late to act."
"Speak freely, sir," said the king, beginning to show the same emotion that had appeared on Blacas’s face and affected Villefort’s voice. "Speak, and please start from the beginning. I like things in proper order."
"Sire," said Villefort, "I will give Your Majesty a complete report, but I must ask your forgiveness if my anxiety makes my account somewhat unclear."
A glance at the king after this careful opening assured Villefort of his royal listener’s patience, and he continued:
"Sire, I came to Paris as quickly as possible to inform Your Majesty that in carrying out my duties, I’ve discovered not some ordinary, insignificant plot like those that spring up daily among common people and soldiers, but an actual conspiracy, a storm that threatens nothing less than Your Majesty’s throne.
Sire, the usurper is arming three ships. He’s planning some scheme that, however insane, might still be terrible. At this moment he will have left Elba. I don’t know where he’s going, but certainly to attempt a landing either in Naples, on the coast of Tuscany, or perhaps on French shores. Your Majesty knows well that the ruler of Elba has maintained his connections with Italy and France?"
"I am aware of this, sir," said the king, clearly agitated. "Recently we’ve had reports that Bonaparte’s supporters have been holding meetings in Paris. But continue, please. How did you obtain these details?"
"Sire, they come from questioning a man from Marseilles whom I’ve been watching for some time and arrested on the day I left. This person, a sailor with a rebellious nature whom I suspected of supporting Bonaparte, secretly visited Elba. There he met with Bonaparte’s marshal, who gave him an oral message for a Bonaparte supporter in Paris. I couldn’t get the Paris contact’s name from him, but this mission was to prepare people’s minds for a return, the prisoner’s own words, sire, a return that will happen soon."
"And where is this man now?"
"In prison, sire."
"And the matter seems serious to you?"
"So serious, sire, that when this situation interrupted a family celebration, on the very day of my engagement, I left my bride and friends, postponing everything, so I could rush to lay my fears before Your Majesty and assure you of my complete loyalty."
"True," said Louis XVIII, "wasn’t there a marriage arrangement between you and Mademoiselle de Saint-Méran?"
"Daughter of one of Your Majesty’s most faithful servants."
"Yes, yes. But let’s discuss this plot, Villefort."
"Sire, I fear it’s more than a plot. I fear it’s a full conspiracy."
"A conspiracy in these times," said Louis XVIII, smiling, "is easy to plan but much harder to execute successfully. Having been restored so recently to our ancestral throne, we keep our eyes open to past, present, and future. For the last ten months, my ministers have doubled their vigilance to watch the Mediterranean coast.
If Bonaparte lands in Naples, the entire coalition against him would mobilize before he could even reach central Italy. If he lands in Tuscany, he’ll be in hostile territory. If he lands in France, it must be with just a handful of men, and we can easily predict that outcome, given how much the population despises him. Take heart, sir, but also count on our royal gratitude."
"Ah, here comes Dandré!" cried Blacas.
At that moment, the police minister appeared at the door, pale, trembling, and looking ready to collapse. Villefort was about to leave, but Blacas grabbed his hand and held him back.