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At what precise date Saint-Germain became an intimate of Louis XV., the Duc de Choiseul, Madame de Pompadour, and the Marechal de Belle-Isle, one cannot ascertain.
At Belle-Isle, D'Artagnan discovers that the engineer of the fortifications is, in fact, Porthos, now the Baron du Vallon, and that's not all. The blueprints for the island, although in Porthos's handwriting, show evidence of another script that has been erased, that of Aramis.
"What shall I say to the king?" "Nothing; give him Belle-Isle." "Oh! Monsieur d'Herblay! Monsieur d'Herblay," cried Fouquet, "what projects crushed all at once!" "After one project that has failed, there is always another project that may lead to fortune; we should never despair. Go, monsieur, and go at once." "But that garrison, so carefully chosen, the king will change it directly."
At what precise date Saint-Germain became an intimate of Louis XV., the Duc de Choiseul, Madame de Pompadour, and the Maréchal de Belle-Isle, one cannot ascertain.
But after a couple of days passed in this manner, the musketeer, perceiving that nothing serious was likely to arise which would concern him, and that the king had completely, or, at least, appeared to have completely forgotten Paris, Saint-Mande, and Belle-Isle that M. Colbert's mind was occupied with illuminations and fireworks that for the next month, at least, the ladies had plenty of glances to bestow, and also to receive in exchange D'Artagnan asked the king for leave of absence for a matter of private business.
Brave without rashness, prudent without timidity, firm without arrogance, resolved without rudeness, good without cant, and virtuous without presumption. His mortal remains are preserved at Belle-Isle, in St. John's parish.
To render this honor to his companion in arms, he meant to send to D'Artagnan, to prevail upon him to recommence the painful voyage to Belle-Isle, to accomplish in his company that sad pilgrimage to the tomb of the giant he had so much loved, then to return to his dwelling to obey that secret influence which was conducting him to eternity by a mysterious road.
Marshal Saxe was troubled with the company of the King of Saxony, whom Marshal Belle-Isle made King of Moravia; as Count Saxe said: "He is King of Moravia very much as I am Duke of Courland." At last, in the midst of the storms, the snows, the fierce winds of November in that wild Bohemian country, we found ourselves set down before Prague.
"You will return on board this captain's vessel." "Yes, monseigneur." "And will tell him that we beg he will himself come into the island." "Ah! I comprehend!" said Porthos. "Yes, monseigneur," replied Jonathan; "but if the captain should refuse to come to Belle-Isle?" "If he refuses, as we have cannon, we will make use of them." "What! against D'Artagnan?"
"There the current of the Vilaine throws them upon another isle, the isle of Hoedic." "I agree with that." "Well, monsieur, from that isle to Belle-Isle the way is quite straight. The sea broken both above and below, passes like a canal like a mirror between the two isles; the chalands glide along upon it like ducks upon the Loire; that's how it is."
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