# The Story of Manon Lescaut and of the Chevalier des Grieux/Chapter 17

Chapter XVII.
Meanwhile, our evil genius was busy plotting our downfall. At the very moment when we were draining the cup of bliss, the sword was hanging suspended over our heads, and the slender thread by which it was upheld was soon to snap. But, for the better understanding of all the circumstances attending our ruin it will be necessary to throw some light upon the causes which led up to it.
When G——— M——— had been waylaid by the Guardsman, he had had a lackey following him. Terrified by the adventure which had befallen his master, the fellow had turned about and taken to his heels. His first effort ​towards obtaining assistance had been to run to old G——— M——— and tell him of the whole occurrence. My rival's father was naturally not a little alarmed by this bad news, for G——— M——— was his only son. He was possessed of remarkable energy and spirit for a man of his years; and at once proceeded to examine the lackey as to everything that his son had been doing during the afternoon; inquiring particularly whether there was any one with whom he had had an altercation, whether he had embroiled himself in anyone else's quarrels, and whether he had been in any house of questionable character.
The poor fellow, supposing his master to be in peril of his life, and thinking that he was in duty bound to sacrifice every other consideration to that of obtaining aid for him, made a full disclosure of all that he knew regarding G——— M———'s passion for Manon, and the money he had squandered upon her; detailing how he had spent the afternoon and evening at her house until about nine o'clock; how he had then gone out, and the mishap he had met with on his way back. The father saw good grounds in all this for suspecting that his son's trouble was the result of some love-scrape.
Although it was half-past ten at night, at the earliest, he betook himself without a moment's hesitation to the Lieutenant-General of Police, and requested him to issue special orders to every squad of the night-watch. Then, asking for one of them as an escort for himself, he hastened to the street in which his son had been waylaid, and proceeded to search every part of the city in which he thought there was any hope of finding him. Failing to discover any trace of him, he finally ordered the lackey to take him to the house in which his son's mistress lived; thinking it possible that he might have returned there.
​I was preparing for bed when he arrived. The door of our room being closed, I did not hear the knocking at the street door; but he entered the house, accompanied by two Archers, and after making some fruitless inquiries as to his son's whereabouts, he decided to see his mistress and get what enlightment he could from her. He came upstairs to the room we were in, still followed by the Archers.
Just as we were about to get into bed, he threw open the door, and our hearts sank within us as we saw him standing before us.
"Heaven protect us!" I cried to Manon, "it is old G——— M———!"
I sprang forward to seize my sword; but, alas! it was entangled in the belt. The Archers, whose quick eyes had detected the object of my sudden movement, ran at once to wrest the weapon from me. A man in his night-shirt is scarcely in a condition to offer much resistance, and I was quickly deprived of all means of defence.
G——— M———, although this scene caused him no little perturbation, was not long in recognizing me; and Manon he knew even more readily.
"Is this a dream?" he said grimly, "or do I indeed ​see before me the Chevalier des Grieux and Manon Lescaut?"
I was so overcome with rage, mortification, and grief that I attempted no reply. For some moments he appeared to be following out his own thoughts, and then, as though they had suddenly inflamed his wrath, he cried, addressing me:
"Scoundrel! You have murdered my son! I am convinced of it!"
This insult cut me to the quick, and I replied haughtily: "Had I thought it worth while to kill any of your family, you old villain, I should have begun with you!"
"Hold him fast!" he said to the Archers, and then to me: "What has become of my son? I insist upon your telling me! As I live, I will have you hanged to-morrow, unless you let me know at once what you have done with him!"
"You will have me hanged, forsooth!" I retorted; "nay, the gallows is meant for you, and ruffians of your kidney! Let me tell you, sir, that a nobler and a purer blood than yours runs in my veins. Yes," I went on, "I do know what has happened to your son; if you provoke me much further, I will have him strangled before morning, and I promise you the same fate after him!"
I could scarcely have been guilty of a greater piece of imprudence than in thus confessing that I knew the whereabouts of his son; but I forgot all discretion in the heat of my indignation. He immediately summoned five or six other Archers who were waiting at the door, and ordered them to place all the servants in the house under arrest.
"Ah ha! my noble Chevalier!" he then resumed, in a mocking tone: "So you know where my son is, and you ​will have him strangled, say you! We shall have something to say about that, you may depend upon it!"
I realized at once the fatal mistake that I had made.
Advancing towards Manon, who was sitting upon the bed, weeping bitterly, he complimented her ironically upon the sway she wielded over both father and son alike, and upon the good account to which she succeeded in turning it. The lecherous old monster would then have attempted to take some liberties with her, had I not checked him by hotly exclaiming:
"Dare to lay hands upon her, and nothing under heaven shall protect you from my vengeance!"
Thereupon he went out, leaving three Archers in the room, with orders to see that we dressed ourselves without delay.
What his intentions regarding us may then have been, I cannot say. Possibly we might have obtained our release by consenting to tell him where his son was to be found. I reflected, as I drew on my clothes, whether this might not be the wisest course to adopt. But if such had been his inclination on leaving our room, it had undergone a complete change when he returned.
He had been questioning Manon's servants, whom the Archers had arrested, and had failed to get any informa​tion from those whom his son had hired for her. But on learning that Marcel had been in our service before, he had resolved to force him to speak out by threatening him with severe penalties, and so working upon his fears.
Marcel was a faithful fellow, but simple and dull-witted. The recollection of the share he had taken in rescuing Manon from the Hôpital, added to the terror with which G——— M——— succeeded in inspiring him, so affected his weak mind that he fully believed that he was about to be dragged straight to the gallows or to be broken upon the wheel. He promised to disclose all that he knew, if only they would spare his life. This convinced G——— M——— that we were guilty of some more serious and criminal offence than he had as yet seen reason to suppose. He assured Marcel that he would not only spare his life, but reward him liberally, if he would make a full confession.
The unhappy wretch then acquainted him with part of our plot. We had discussed it freely in his presence, because of the share he was to take in its execution. He was, it is true, entirely in the dark as to the changes we had made in it since coming to Paris; but he had received full instructions on leaving Chaillot as to our arrangements and the part he was to play in them. He informed ​his questioner, therefore, that our project was to make a dupe of his son; and that Manon was to receive, or had already received from him, the sum of ten thousand francs, which the G——— M——— family and its heirs would never lay eyes on again, if we succeeded in carrying out our design.
Enraged at this discovery, the old man hurried upstairs and abruptly re-entered our room. Without a word, he passed through it to the dressing-room, where he had no difficulty in finding the money and jewels. Then, coming back to us, with his face positively purple with fury, he showed us what he was pleased to call our boot, and loaded us with insulting rebukes. Thrusting the pearl-necklace and bracelets under Manon's very eyes, he said to her with a sneer:
"Do you recognize them? This is not the first time that you have seen them! Yes, as I live, they are the same, the very same! 'Tis easy to see that they were vastly to your taste, my fair lady! Poor innocents!" continued he; "you are a charming pair, truly; but not as honest as you might be!"
My blood boiled within me at these offensive taunts. I would have given my right hand—aye, my very hopes of ​heaven, for a moment's freedom. At last, after an inward struggle, I mastered myself sufficiently to say with a calmness of manner that was really only a refinement of rage:
"A truce, sir, to these insolent jeers! What are you going to do with us? Come, frankly—what are we to expect?"
"What am I going to do with you, most noble Chevalier?" he replied. "I will tell you: I am going to march you straight to the prison of the Châtelet. To-morrow's sun will enable us to take a clearer view of these little affairs of ours; and I trust that, before we have done with them, you will do me the honor of informing me where my son is to be found."
It required but little reflection to impress upon me how terrible would be the consequences for us if we were once to be confined in the Châtelet. With a shudder I foresaw all the dangers of such a prospect. In spite of all my pride, I recognized that there was nothing for it but to bow to my destiny, and flatter my bitterest enemy by submission, in the hope of thus obtaining some mercy from him. I begged him, in a conciliatory tone, to listen to me patiently for a few moments, and then said:
"I will not attempt to justify my conduct, sir. I freely admit that my youthful folly has led me into the commission of some grave faults, and that you have been sufficiently injured by them to give you very good reason to complain. But if you knew the power of love—if you could appreciate the anguish that is felt by an unhappy young man who sees all that he most cherishes about to be torn from his arms—then, perhaps, you would not think it an unpardonable offence that I should have sought to enjoy some slight revenge; or you would at least consider me sufficiently punished by the affront to which I ​have just been subjected. There is no need of either imprisonment or torture to force me to reveal your son's whereabouts. He is safe. It was no part of my design to do him any harm, or to injure you in any way. He is now spending the night in peace and security, and I am prepared to tell you where, on condition that you will be good enough to grant us our liberty."
The merciless old barbarian, so far from being moved by my appeal, turned his back upon me with a laugh, and merely muttered a few words to the effect that he was fully informed as to what our plans were, from beginning to end. As for his son, he brutally added, he would find his own way out of his predicament soon enough, as I had not assassinated him.
"Take them to the petit Châtelet," he said, turning to the Archers, "and keep a sharp eye on the Chevalier, or he will contrive to slip away from you; for he is a cunning rogue, and has made his escape from Saint-Lazare before now."
He then took his departure, leaving me in a condition of mind that may be more easily imagined than described.
"O Heaven!" I cried, "I will submit resignedly to all the afflictions that you in your wisdom may visit upon ​me; but that a miserable scoundrel like this should have it in his power to tyrannize over me thus is more than I can bear!"
The Archers were growing impatient, and ordered us not to keep them waiting any longer. They had a coach ready at the door. I held out my hand to Manon to assist her downstairs, and said:
"Come, sweet mistress of my heart! Come and submit to the cruel decrees of our destiny. Some day, perchance, it may please Heaven to grant us a happier fate!"
We were both put into the same coach, and as we were driven away from the house, Manon threw herself into my arms. Not a word had she uttered since the moment of G——— M———'s first appearance; but now that she found herself once more alone with me, she poured forth innumerable expressions of endearment, and of self-reproach for having brought this misfortune upon me. I assured her that, whatever my fate might be, I would never complain so long as she continued to love me.
"It is not I who am to be pitied," I continued; "a few months' imprisonment has no terrors for me, and, in any case, the Châtelet is preferable to Saint Lazare. It is for you, sweet soul, that my heart is bleeding. What a ​prospect is this to confront a lovely being like yourself! How, oh! how can Providence wreak such cruelty upon the most perfect of its creations? Why is it that we were not born, you and I, with qualities in keeping with the misery before us? We have been endowed with intelligence, with taste, and with fine feeling—and all, alas! to what end? While, on the other hand, how many ignoble souls, worthy of no better fate than ours, are to be seen in the enjoyment of every favor that fortune has to bestow!"
Bitter as were these reflections, they were cheerful in comparison with the fears that were agitating my mind with regard to the future. My heart was sick with dread of what might befall Manon. She had already been an inmate of the Hôpital, and though, for once, she had been fortunate enough to escape with impunity, I knew how dangerous were the consequences of relapses of this kind. It would have been a relief to confide my misgivings to her; but I was fearful of alarming her too much. I could only sit and tremble for her, without daring to warn her of the peril she was in; and I sighed as I pressed her to my heart and assured her again and again of my love—which was almost the only feeling I dared trust myself to express.
"Manon," I said, "answer me frankly: will you always love me?"
"It makes me very unhappy," she responded, "to think that you can doubt it."
"I do not doubt it, then," I replied; "and with that assurance from your lips, I am ready to defy all our enemies. I will make use of the influence of my family to obtain my release from the Châtelet, and, once free myself, I will rescue you from it, if I have to shed my blood to the last drop in the attempt!"
On reaching the prison we were separated and placed ​in different wards. Had I not been prepared for this, it would have been a cruel blow; as it was, I found it hard to bear. I commended Manon to the good offices of the warder, giving him to understand at the same time that I was a person of some consideration, and promising him a liberal reward if he treated her kindly. Before I was parted from my beloved mistress, I clasped her fondly in my arms and besought her not to give way to despair, and to have no fears as long as I remained alive to protect her. There was a little money in my purse. I gave her part of it, and out of what was left paid the warder a month's full board in advance, for her and myself.
My money had a very good effect. I was put into a comfortably furnished room, and assured that a similar one had been given to Manon. Left to myself, I at once began to consider how I could most speedily regain my liberty. One thing was clear; there was nothing absolutely criminal in all I had done. Even supposing that it were proved, on Marcel's evidence, that it was our intention to commit a theft, I was well enough versed in the law to be aware that no penalty attaches to the mere contemplation of an offence. I decided to write to my father without delay, and beg him to come to Paris in person. As I have already said, I felt much less shame at being ​imprisoned in the Châtelet than at Saint-Lazare. Moreover, though I still retained all due respect for the paternal authority, increased age and experience had greatly diminished my former timidity. In short, the letter was written, and the authorities of the Châtelet raised no objection to my sending it. I might have spared myself the pains, however; for, had I but known it, my father was to be in Paris the very next day.
He had received the letter which I had written him a week before, and had been overjoyed at its contents. But, in spite of the hopes which I had encouraged him to indulge regarding my reformation, he had not thought it wise to rely entirely upon my promises, and had decided to come and assure himself of my conversion by the evidence of his own eyes, and to be governed in his subsequent course by the degree of sincerity I showed in my repentance. He arrived in Paris the day after my arrest. He first went to see Tiberge, to whose care I had asked him to address his reply. My friend was unable to give him any information as to my present whereabouts or occupation, and all that he could gather from him was a general outline of my principal adventures since my flight from Saint Sulpice. Tiberge spoke very encouragingly, however, of the disposition I had shown during our last interview, to reform my way of life. He added that he believed me to have finally separated from Manon, but expressed his surprise at my not having given him any news of myself for a week past.
My father was not a man to be easily duped. He surmised that this silence of which Tiberge complained had something behind it which that simple soul had not penetration enough to discover, and he made such diligent efforts to trace me, that before two days had passed he had found out that I was a prisoner in the Châtelet.
​Before his visit, which I little suspected to be so near at hand, I received one from the Lieutenant-General of Police; or, to call things by their proper names, I was subjected to an examination by him. He reprimanded me a little, but not with undue harshness or severity; telling me kindly that he was sorry that I should have been guilty of such misconduct, and pointing out how imprudent I had been to make an enemy of a man like G——— M———
"It is clear enough," he went on to say, "that your offence was prompted by thoughtlessness and folly rather than by actual malice. This is the second time, however, that you have brought yourself within the pale of my jurisdiction; and I was in hopes that you had profited more than you seem to have done by the two or three months' discipline you underwent at Saint-Lazare."
I was overjoyed to find that I had such a considerate judge to deal with, and answered all his questions with so much deference and self-restraint that he seemed to be very favorably impressed. He told me not to let my present situation weigh too heavily on my mind, as he felt inclined to befriend me, in consideration of my youth and rank.
​I then ventured to plead with him on Manon's behalf, and grew eloquent in my praises of her goodness and gentleness. He replied, with a smile, that he had not seen her as yet; but that he was given to understand that she was a dangerous character.
My devotion took fire at this epithet, and I launched out into a long and passionate defence of my unhappy mistress, losing my self-control so completely that at last I actually burst into tears. The Lieutenant-General ordered me to be taken back to my room; and as he saw me led from his presence, the sedate and worthy magistrate shook his head gravely and exclaimed:
"Ah! Love, Love! will you never cease to be at odds with Wisdom?"
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