“It matters a great deal to you, since you have only to speak the word, and I will rid you of him before thirty-six hours from this time, though he is now very near Paris. We might even add the Cardinal, if you wish.”
“Leave me; I will use no poniards,” said Cinq-Mars.
“Ah! I understand you,” replied Jacques. “You are right; you would prefer our despatching him with the sword. This is just. He is worth it; ‘tis a distinction due to him. It were undoubtedly more suitable for great lords to take charge of the Cardinal; and that he who despatches his Eminence should be in a fair way to be a marechal. For myself, I am not proud; one must not be proud, whatever one’s merit in one’s profession. I must not touch the Cardinal; he’s a morsel for a king!”
“Nor any others,” said the grand ecuyer.
“Oh, let us have the Capuchin!” said Captain Jacques, urgently.
“You are wrong if you refuse this office,” said Fontrailles; “such things occur every day. Vitry began with Concini; and he was made a marechal. You see men extremely well at court who have killed their enemies with their own hands in the streets of Paris, and you hesitate to rid yourself of a villain! Richelieu has his agents; you must have yours. I can not understand your scruples.”
“Do not torment him,” said Jacques, abruptly; “I understand it. I thought as he does when I was a boy, before reason came. I would not have killed even a monk; but let me speak to him.” Then, turning toward Cinq-Mars, “Listen: when men conspire, they seek the death or at least the downfall of some one, eh?”
And he paused.
“Now in that case, we are out with God, and in with the Devil, eh?”
“Secundo, as they say at the Sorbonne; it’s no worse when one is damned, to be so for much than for little, eh?”