Chapter 6 Kidnapping the King.
The king's fury lost strength in the nighttime, settling eventually into a painful weariness that crushed him into a deep sleep.
In his dreams, the king saw the ceiling of his room shift and move away.
Then he felt his bed move.
Finally, he noticed that the paintings, the curtains and furniture were all gone, replaced by a dull gray that thickened more and more into a shadow.
After a minute that dragged by like a century, the bed reached an area of black and icy air, and then it stopped.
The king saw the light of his room as if he were looking up from the bottom of a well.
This is a horrible dream, he thought.
It's time I woke up.
Come on now, wake up.
Suddenly, Louis realized that not only was he already awake, but his eyes were open as well.
To his right and left stood two armed men, each wearing a vast cloak with a hood, so the king couldn't see their faces.
One man was holding a small lantern.
They had been carrying him and now stood him up on the moist floor.
He asked the lantern holder, What's going on?
What kind of joke is this?
It's no joke, said one of the men in a hollow voice.
It was Eremus.
The bishop had disguised his voice so the king wouldn't recognize him.
"'Are you working for Fouquet?' asked the bewildered king.
"'It doesn't matter whom we're working for,' said the man.
"'We are your masters, and that's that.'
The second masked man was a tall hulk.
He stood as straight and motionless as a block of marble.
This was Porthos, but the king didn't recognize him either.
Answer me, the king yelled, stamping his foot.
We will not answer you, my little man, the giant boomed.
There's no reason to answer you, except to say that you are indeed a nuisance.
Just what is it that you want? cried Louis, angrily crossing his arms.
You'll know soon enough, replied the lantern holder.
I won't budge.
If you resist my young friend said the larger of the two men I'll pick you up and roll you in my coat.
The king was terrified.
After a few moments of thought, he shook his head and sighed.
I guess I've fallen into the hands of two assassins, he said.
Let's go then.
Neither man responded.
The three men marched through a long winding passage until they arrived at an iron door which the lantern holder unlocked.
The king hesitated, and the large man pushed him through.
Louis realized he was standing outdoors.
I repeat, he said, shocked at being handled so roughly.
What are you planning for the king of France?
Try to forget that phrase, replied the lantern holder.
You are not the king.
The men walked through the darkness, surrounded by trees, until they came to a carriage.
Louis and the lantern holder climbed inside.
The larger guard closed the door and locked it from the outside, then climbed into the driver's seat and hurried the two horses off along a path.
They rode fast for several hours until they reached the outskirts of Paris.
At the gates of the Bastille, Porthos shouted By order of the king to the guard, who let them pass immediately.
When they finally stopped in the courtyard, the driver yelled, Wake the warden.
Ten minutes later, the warden appeared at the front door.
The driver unlocked and opened the carriage door, then grabbed a large musket and pointed it at the prisoner's chest.
If he opens his mouth, shoot him, Eros muttered.
Fine, said the other man calmly.
The lantern holder approached the warden and lowered his hood.
Before the warden could speak, Eramis whispered, let's go inside.
What brings you here in the middle of the night?
A mistake, my dear warden, Eramis said.
Apparently you were right the other evening.
About what?
The warden asked.
Why, about that prisoner you released, my friend.
Eramis said.
You remember, we thought the letter was for a man named Marciali.
Yes, but you forget, the warden said.
I had doubts and didn't want to release him.
It was you who forced me to.
Oh, that is too harsh a word, Eramis said.
I merely recommended it.
Yet you still took him away with you.
Well, my dear warden, I was wrong.
I've brought you a royal order to release the correct man.
You remember his name was Selden, said Eremus, handing him the order.
It was the one he had stolen from the warden's table during his last visit.
But this is the same order, the warden said.
I've seen this one before.
I recognize this blob of ink in the corner.
I don't know if it's the same order, but at any rate I'm bringing it to you.
Eremus said, and here is Marciali back.
Return him to his cell immediately, and we will try to forget about this mistake.
But I need another order to take him in, the warden cried.
Don't talk such nonsense, my friend.
You sound like a child.
Where is the order you received when I was here last, the one to release Marciali?
Eremus asked.
The warden hurried to his office and Eramis followed.
Inside, he opened his desk and produced the document.
Eramis took it and held it over a candle's flame until it was completely destroyed.
"'What are you doing?' the warden asked in sheer terror.
"'I've simplified everything, my friend,' Eramis said in a smile.
"'Now you no longer have the mistaken order for Machiali's release, and I've even brought him back.'
It's as if he never left.
The warden wrung his hands.
From a friend like you, I can keep no secrets, Erema said, and led the warden back outside.
Then he whispered, you can see the resemblance between this poor man and, and the king.
Yes, the warden interrupted.
Well, guess what he tried to do with his newfound freedom?
How should I know, the warden asked.
He "'Tried to pass himself off as King Louis,' Aramis said.
"'He dressed as him and even tried to enter the palace.
"'Of course, he was discovered right away.
"'He's clearly insane.
"'What should I do with him?'
"'Well, don't let him talk to anyone, you see.
"'When the king learned of this insanity, he was furious,' Aramis said.
He ordered that anyone who lets this man communicate with someone other than me will be sent to the dungeons.
No one, not even the king, is to see him.
Do you understand?
I do, the warden said.
The warden escorted them back to the prison cell.
Porthos kept the musket pointed at Louis the entire time.
He still wore his hood, and Eremus put his hood back on before Louis could see his face.
The king entered the cell without saying a word.
He was pale and exhausted.
He really does look like the king, the warden murmured to Eremus.
But less than you say.
So you wouldn't have been fooled, Eremus said.
Of course not.
Anyone can see that he isn't actually the king once you really look at him.
After leaving the cell and bidding the warden goodbye, Eramis and Porthos took the carriage and sped from the prison.
Meanwhile, the king felt stunned and shattered.
He leaned against the wall of his cell and closed his eyes.
I can't be dead or dreaming, he said out loud.
They kidnapped me in my sleep, the scoundrels.
Me, a prisoner?
All at once the chill of the room dropped like a cloak on Louis' shoulders.
"'How can I be locked up?' he asked himself, reassured to hear his own voice.
"'Mr.
Fouquet must be plotting against me, and was drawn into a trap at Vaux.
But what can they be thinking?
The world will know I'm missing.
There must be a warden here.
He'll listen to me.'
Louis cried out, but no one responded.
He grabbed his chair and banged it against the heavy door.
It made a terrible noise that echoed throughout the tower, but still no one answered.
Then he ran to the window and began calling through the bars.
Still no response.
The king's blood boiled with anger.
He was used to being in command.
His body trembled with fury at this betrayal.
He smashed the chair and used the pieces to batter the door for hours until he was exhausted.
Hey, are you crazy? snapped the guard on the other side of the cell's door.
Sir, are you the warden of the Bastille?
Louis asked.
My good man, your mind is unhinged, the guard replied.
Now shut up.
The guard walked away, ignoring Louis, who continued to call after him.
Two hours later, Louis no longer felt like a king.
In fact, he barely felt like a human being.
Instead, he felt like a madman scratching at the door, trying to pull up the floorboards and shrieking so dreadfully that the old Bastille seemed to tremble.
As for the warden, he never even stirred.
The guard told him about the prisoner, but the warden thought, why bother going to see him?
This place is full of madmen.
