Epilogue

Rochelle, deprived of the aid of the English fleet and the reinforcements promised by Buckingham, surrendered after a siege of a year. On the 28th of October, 1628, the capitulation was signed.

The king made his entrance into Paris on December 23 the same year. He was received in triumph, as if he came from conquering an enemy and not Frenchmen. He entered by the Faubourg St. Jacques with magnificent display.

The procession, led by symbolical cars, passed under a dozen triumphal arches, on which all the gods of Olympus were celebrating the unnumbered virtues of Louis the Victorious. An immense throng, stationed along the whole route of the procession, rent the air with their enthusiastic acclamations, greeting the conqueror’s return.

D’Artagnan took possession of his rank. Porthos left the service, and during the following year married Madame Coquenard. The coffer so eagerly coveted contained 800,000 livres.

Mousqueton had a magnificent livery, and enjoyed the satisfaction for which he had yearned all his life—that of standing behind a gilded carriage.

Aramis, after a long absence in Lorraine, suddenly disappeared, and ceased to write his friends. They learned long afterwards, through Madame de Chevreuse, who told it to two or three of her lovers, that he had decided to assume the habit in a religious house at Nancy.

Bazin became a lay brother.

Athos remained a musketeer under D’Artagnan’s command till the year 1631, when, after a journey which he made to Touraine, he also quitted the service, under the pretext of having just inherited a small property in Roussillon.

Grimaud followed Athos.

D’Artagnan fought three times with Rochefort, and wounded him three times.

“I shall probably kill you the fourth,” said he to him, holding out his hand to assist him to rise.

“Then it is better for you and for me that we stop here,” answered the wounded man. “Zounds! I am much more your friend than you think; for after our very first encounter, I could, by saying a word to the cardinal, have had your head cut off!”

This time they heartily shook hands, and without retaining any malice.

Planchet obtained from Rochefort the rank of sergeant in the guards.

M. Bonacieux lived on very quietly, perfectly ignorant of what had become of his wife, and caring very little about the matter. One day he had the imprudence to recall himself to the cardinal’s memory. The cardinal sent him word that he would see to it that he should never want for anything in future.

In fact, the next day M. Bonacieux left his house at seven o’clock in the evening to go to the Louvre, and he was never seen again in the Rue des Fossoyeurs. The opinion of those who seemed to be best informed was that he was fed and lodged in some royal castle at the expense of his generous Eminence.