Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Every Tuesday niinistcrs. He had joined the group loolc- iug down at the frantic crowds, and the nurse drew near to him and touched him on the arm. "Well, what is it, nm\se?" Colbert asked. "Her Majesty has given birlh to a second child," the nurse whispered. Colbert was startled. For a moment he did not realise the full importance of what the nurse had said. Then he exclaimed: "A second child?" He spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry some yards, in spite of the din. It carried beyond a pillar behind which Fouquet was standing, and Fouquet's eyes narrowed as he bent to hear more. But by then Colbert had lowered his voice, and Fouquet could hear nothing. "What is this second child?" he asked quickly. "A boy or a girl?" "A boy—a twin boy." The nurse looked frightened. "What am I to do? Shall I take this second son to his Majesty?" "No." Colbert spoke sharply. "Who else knows about this?" "Only the doctor." "He is all right. He can be trusted completely. But no one else must know. You understand?" "I understand." "Good! Follow me!" He led the way to the Queen's apart- ments, and was met at the door by the doctor. Quickly he explained that no news of the birth of the second son must leak out. The doctor frowned, worried. "But what about her Majesty?" he asked. "I will answer for the Queen. Give the child to the nurse." Colbert turned and hurried away. He found a messenger and sent him for the King. Then he went to the King's private apartments to wait. The nurse came in after a while with the second child. Then, a few minutes later, the King himself entered. "Well, Colbert, what is the matter?" he asked a little tersely. "Your message said you had urgent news." Colbert indicated the nurse. "It is my duty to present to your Majesty your second son," he said. "iPate has given France twin Dauphins." The King turned and stared down at the second child. " Two sons!" he whispered. " Two heirs to the throne of France!" BOY'S CINEMA Colbert moved over nearer (o him. " Your Majesty knows that there can be only one Dauphin of France," he said. The King nodded slowly. "To any other man in this kingdom," he said, " twin sons would be a blessing. Only to me—the King—could they be a curse!" "Worse than a curse. Sire." Colbert spoke regretfully. "Twin sons would mean civil war—self-seeking men pitling brother against brother. The whole future of our country depends upon this moment—upon you being strong enough to think as a king and not as a father. Of your sons, onlv one can rule." "The King nodded and paced up and down rapidly for a moment or so. Then he stopped, shaking his head. "I know what you mean. Colbert," he said. " But I cannot order a death warrant for my own son." Colbert went to him and put a hand on his arm. "You misunderstand me. Sire," he said. "A death warrant is not necessary. But the child must be sent away. No one need know—even he himself must never know." "But with whom can I send him?" the King asked. "Is there a man in all the world with whom such a secret would be safe?" "Yes, Sire, there is such a man," Col- bert said quickly. "D'Artagnan." " D'Artagnan! ' The King frowned. "Must I lose my son and my best fi'iend as well. D'Artagnan is my right arm." "He is my friend also. Sire. I shall lose him, too. Yet you must give him the child. Send him home to Gascony, settle an in- come on him, and permit him to raise the boy as his own. Then France will be safe." The King paced up and down again, and for a long time there was no sound in the room but his quick, heavy breathing. Then suddenly he made up his mind. "Very well," he said. "Send for him." That night a solitary horseman rode out of Paris and headed south-west to- wards the lands bordering the Pyrenees, some four hundred miles away. And the King and Colbert bi-eathed sighs of relief. They did not know—no- body knew—that the ambitious Fouquet had made it his business to hear and see much of what had happened. LOUIS THE BAD IN the years that followed much hap- pened to change the history of France. Louis XIII died when the elder twin was only five .vears old, and the boy became king at a time when he was toij young to rule. Fouquet kept his secret. With the aid of the Cardinal he managed to have him- self appointed tutor to the younj; monarch, with the result that by the time young Louis XIV was twent.v-two he and Fouquet were inseparables. And Fouquet saw to it that Louis was educated in the right way—the wav that would do Fouquet himself most good. One morning, shortly before Louis' twenty-second birthday, he and Fouquet were standing before a window that looked down into a courtyard of the palace. A gallows had been erected against the far wall, and Louis was watching the day's executions. He watched with obvious relish. Suddenly he said: "That is three of them, Fouquet. The fourth is being prepared now. Would you like to double your wager?" Fouquet smiled ingratiatingly. "But the rope always breaks the fourth time, your Majesty," he said in mild pro- test. "Your Majesty is so lucky." Louis smiled vainly. "Of course I am liicky," he said. "But. then, I am a most unusual person." He turned idly to the window again. Suddenly he let out an exclamation of annoyance and tui-ned back to Fouquet irritably. "It didn't break," he said. "But that is absurd. It always breaks the fourth time. Fouquet, are you sure you didn't tamper with that rope?" Fouquet did his best to look hurt. "Your Majesty!" he said reproachfully. The door opened and Colbert came in. His hair had greyed in the intervening years, but his bearing was still upright. He was no longer the King's friend. There was a new King now. "I regret intruding upon your Majesty's amusement," he said, and did not trouble to conceal his irony. Louis ignored him. "I'll double the wager on the ne.xt one, Fouquet," he said. Fouquet smiled thinly. "There will not be any more, your Majesty," he said. "Monsieur Colbert took November IStli, 1039. '