Grimaud thereupon presented himself with his smooth at the donjon of Vincennes. Now Monsieur de Chavigny himself on his infallible ; for that which almost proved that he was the son of Richelieu was his ; he examined the of the for place and fancied that the contracted , thin lips, hooked nose, and prominent cheek-bones of Grimaud were favorable signs. He addressed about twelve words to him; Grimaud answered in four.
“Here’s a fellow and it is I who have found out his merits,” said Monsieur de Chavigny. “Go,” he added, “and make yourself agreeable to Monsieur la Ramee, and tell him that you suit me in all respects.”
Grimaud had every quality that could attract a man on duty who wishes to have a deputy. So, after a thousand questions which met with only a word in reply, La Ramee, fascinated by this sobriety in speech, rubbed his hands and engaged Grimaud.
“My orders?” asked Grimaud.
“They are these; never to leave the prisoner alone; to keep away from him every or cutting instrument, and to prevent his any length of time with the keepers.”
“Those are all?” asked Grimaud.
“All now,” replied La Ramee.
“Good,” answered Grimaud; and he went right to the prisoner.
The duke was in the act of combing his beard, which he had allowed to grow, as well as his hair, in order to reproach Mazarin with his wretched appearance and condition. But having some days seen from the top of the donjon Madame de Montbazon pass in her carriage, and still cherishing an affection for that beautiful woman, he did not wish to be to her what he wished to be to Mazarin, and in the hope of seeing her again, had asked for a leaden comb, which was allowed him. The comb was to be a leaden one, because his beard, like that of most fair people, was rather red; he therefore dyed it thus whilst combing it.
As Grimaud entered he saw this comb on the tea-table; he took it up, and as he took it he made a low bow.
The duke looked at this strange figure with surprise. The figure put the comb in its pocket.
“Ho! hey! what’s that?” cried the duke. “Who is this creature?”
Grimaud did not answer, but bowed a second time.
“Art thou dumb?” cried the duke.
Grimaud made a sign that he was not.
“What art thou, then? Answer! I command thee!” said the duke.
“A keeper,” replied Grimaud.
“A keeper!” the duke; “there was nothing wanting in my collection, except this -bird. Halloo! La Ramee! some one!”
La Ramee ran in haste to obey the call.
“Who is this who takes my comb and puts it in his pocket?” asked the duke.
“One of your guards, my prince; a man of talent and merit, whom you will like, as I and Monsieur de Chavigny do, I am sure.”
“Why does he take my comb?”
“Why do you take my lord’s comb?” asked La Ramee.
Grimaud drew the comb from his pocket and passing his fingers over the largest teeth, pronounced this one word, “Pointed.”
“True,” said La Ramee.
“What does the animal say?” asked the duke.
“That the king has forbidden your lordship to have any pointed instrument.”
“Are you mad, La Ramee? You yourself gave me this comb.”
“I was very wrong, my lord, for in giving it to you I acted in to my orders.”
The duke looked furiously at Grimaud.
“I perceive that this creature will be my particular aversion,” he muttered.
Grimaud, nevertheless, was resolved for certain reasons not at once to come to a full with the prisoner; he wanted to inspire, not a sudden , but a good, sound, steady ; he , therefore, and gave place to four guards, who, having breakfasted, could attend on the prisoner.
A fresh practical joke now occurred to the duke. He had asked for crawfish for his breakfast on the following morning; he intended to pass the day in making a small gallows and hang one of the finest of these fish in the middle of his room--the red color evidently conveying an to the --so that he might have the pleasure of hanging Mazarin in without being accused of having hung anything more significant than a crawfish.
The day was employed in preparations for the execution. Every one grows childish in prison, but the character of Monsieur de Beaufort was particularly disposed to become so. In the course of his morning’s walk he collected two or three small branches from a tree and found a small piece of broken glass, a discovery that quite delighted him. When he came home he formed his handkerchief into a loop.
Nothing of all this escaped Grimaud, but La Ramee looked on with the curiosity of a father who thinks that he may perhaps get a cheap idea concerning a new toy for his children. The guards looked on it with . When everything was ready, the gallows hung in the middle of the room, the loop made, and when the duke had cast a glance upon the plate of crawfish, in order to select the finest among them, he looked around for his piece of glass; it had disappeared.
“Who has taken my piece of glass?” asked the duke, frowning. Grimaud made a sign to denote that he had done so.
“What! thou again! Why didst thou take it?”
“Yes--why?” asked La Ramee.
Grimaud, who held the piece of glass in his hand, said: “Sharp.”
“True, my lord!” exclaimed La Ramee. “Ah! deuce take it! we have a precious fellow here!”
“Monsieur Grimaud!” said the duke, “for your sake I beg of you, never come within the reach of my fist!”
“! hush!” cried La Ramee, “give me your gibbet, my lord. I will shape it out for you with my knife.”
And he took the gibbet and shaped it out as as possible.
“That’s it,” said the duke, “now make me a little hole in the floor whilst I go and fetch the culprit.”
La Ramee knelt down and made a hole in the floor; meanwhile the duke hung the crawfish up by a thread. Then he placed the gibbet in the middle of the room, bursting with laughter.
La Ramee laughed also and the guards laughed in chorus; Grimaud, however, did not even smile. He approached La Ramee and showing him the crawfish hung up by the thread:
“Cardinal,” he said.
“Hung by order of his Highness the Duc de Beaufort!” cried the prisoner, laughing violently, “and by Master Jacques Chrysostom La Ramee, the king’s .”
La Ramee uttered a cry of horror and rushed toward the gibbet, which he broke at once and threw the pieces out of the window. He was going to throw the crawfish out also, when Grimaud snatched it from his hands.
“Good to eat!” he said, and put it in his pocket.
This scene so the duke that at the moment he forgave Grimaud for his part in it; but on reflection he hated him more and more, being convinced he had some evil for his conduct.
But the story of the made a great noise through the interior of the donjon and even outside. Monsieur de Chavigny, who at heart the cardinal, took pains to tell the story to two or three friends, who put it into circulation.
The prisoner happened to remark among the guards one man with a very good countenance; and he favored this man the more as Grimaud became the more and more to him. One morning he took this man on one side and had succeeded in speaking to him, when Grimaud entered and seeing what was going on approached the duke respectfully, but took the guard by the arm.
“Go away,” he said.
The guard obeyed.
“You are insupportable!” cried the duke; “I shall beat you.”
Grimaud bowed.
“I will break every bone in your body!” cried the duke.
Grimaud bowed, but stepped back.
“Mr. Spy,” cried the duke, more and more , “I will strangle you with my own hands.”
And he extended his hands toward Grimaud, who merely thrust the guard out and shut the door behind him. At the same time he felt the duke’s arms on his shoulders like two iron claws; but instead either of calling out or defending himself, he placed his on his lips and said in a low tone:
“Hush!” smiling as he uttered the word.
A gesture, a smile and a word from Grimaud, all at once, were so unusual that his highness stopped short, .
Grimaud took advantage of that instant to draw from his vest a charming little note with an aristocratic seal, and presented it to the duke without a word.
The duke, more and more bewildered, let Grimaud loose and took the note.
“From Madame de Montbazon?” he cried.
Grimaud nodded .
The duke tore open the note, passed his hands over his eyes, for he was dazzled and confused, and read:
“My Dear Duke,--You may in the brave lad who will give you this note; he has consented to enter the service of your keeper and to shut himself up at Vincennes with you, in order to prepare and assist your escape, which we are . The moment of your deliverance is at hand; have patience and courage and remember that in spite of time and absence all your friends continue to cherish for you the sentiments they have so long and truly entertained.
“Yours wholly and most affectionately............