Читать книгу The Three Musketeers - Александр Дюма - Страница 12

As Athos and Porthos had anticipated, d’Artagnan returned in half an hour. He had again missed his man, who had disappeared as if by enchantment. The young Gascon had run through all the neighbouring streets, sword in hand, but found no one resembling him. Whilst d’Artagnan was engaged in this pursuit, Aramis had joined his companions, so that on his return he found the reunion complete.

“Well!” exclaimed they, when they saw him enter, covered with perspiration, and furious.

“Well!” said he, throwing his sword on the bed; “this man must be the devil himself: he disappeared like a phantom, a shadow, a spectre!”

“Do you believe in apparitions?” demanded Athos and Porthos.

“I only believe in what I see; and as I have never seen an apparition, I do not believe in them.”

“The Bible declares that one appeared to Saul!” said Aramis.

“Be it how it may,” said d’Artagnan, “man or devil, body or shadow, illusion or reality, this man is born to be my bane; for his escape has caused us to lose a fine opportunity—one, gentlemen, by which an hundred pistoles, or more, were to be gained!”

“How is that?” asked Aramis and Porthos; but Athos, true to his principle of silence, merely interrogated d’Artagnan by a look.

“Planchet,” said d’Artagnan, “go to my landlord, M. Bonancieux, and tell him to send me half a dozen bottles of Beaugency, which is my favourite wine.”

“Ah! then you have credit with your landlord?” demanded Porthos.

“Yes, from this day,” said d’Artagnan; “and be assured that if the wine is bad, we will send to him for better.”

“You should use, and not abuse,” sententiously remarked Aramis.

“I always said that d’Artagnan had the best head of the four,” said Athos; who, having delivered himself of this opinion, which d’Artagnan acknowledged by a bow, relapsed into his usual silence.

“But now let us hear what is the scheme,” demanded Porthos.

“Yes,” said Aramis, “confide in us, my dear friend; at least, if the honour of some lady be not compromised.”

“Be easy,” replied d’Artagnan, “the honour of no one shall be in danger from what I have to tell you.” He then related, word for word, his intercourse with his landlord; and how the man who had carried off the worthy mercer’s wife was the same with whom he had quarrelled at the Jolly Miller, at Meung.

“The thing looks well,” said Athos, after he had tasted the wine like a connoisseur, and testified by an approving nod of the head that it was good; and had calculated also whether it was worthwhile to risk four heads for sixty or seventy pistoles.

“But, observe,” said d’Artagnan, “that there is a woman in the case; a woman who is carried off, and no doubt threatened, perhaps tortured, merely on account of her fidelity to her royal mistress.”

“Take care, d’Artagnan—take care,” said Aramis; “in my opinion you are too interested in Madame Bonancieux. Woman was created for our destruction; and from her all our miseries arise.”

Athos frowned, and bit his lip, whilst he listened to this profound opinion.

“It is not for Madame Bonancieux that I distress myself,” said d’Artagnan, “but for the queen, whom the king abandons, whom the cardinal persecutes, and who sees the execution of all her truest friends in succession.”

“But why will she love what we most detest—the English and the Spaniards?” asked Athos.

“Spain is her country,” replied d’Artagnan, “and it is but natural that she should love the Spaniards, who are her compatriots. As to your first reproach, I never heard that she loved the English, but an Englishman.”

“And truly,” replied Athos, “one must confess, that that Englishman is well worthy of being loved. I never saw a man of a more noble air.”

“Besides, you do not consider the perfect style in which he dresses,” said Porthos. “I was at the Louvre the day he scattered his pearls, and I picked up two which sold for twenty pistoles. Do you know him, Aramis?”

“As well as you do, gentlemen; for I was one of those who arrested him in the garden at Amiens, where the queen’s equerry, M. de Putange, had introduced me. I was at the seminary at that time, and the adventure appeared to me to bear hard upon the king.”

“Which would not hinder me,” said d’Artagnan, “from taking him by the hand, and conducting him to the queen; if it were only to enrage the cardinal. Our one eternal enemy is the cardinal; and if we could find the means of doing him some injury, I confess that I would willingly risk my life to employ them.”

“And the mercer told you, d’Artagnan,” said Athos, “that the queen thought they had decoyed Buckingham into France by some false information?”

“She fears so! And I am convinced,” added d’Artagnan, “that the abduction of this woman, one of the queen’s suite, has some connection with the circumstances of which we are speaking, and perhaps with the presence of his grace the Duke of Buckingham in Paris.”

“The Gascon is full of imagination,” said Porthos.

“I like to hear him talk,” said Athos; “his dialect amuses me.”

“Gentlemen,” said Aramis, “listen!”

“Let us attend to Aramis!” exclaimed the three friends.

“Yesterday, I was at the house of a learned doctor of theology whom I sometimes consult on technical difficulties.”

Athos smiled.

“He lives in a retired spot, convenient to his tastes and his profession. Now, just as I was leaving his house—” Here Aramis hesitated.

“Well!” said his auditors—“just as you were leaving his house?”

Aramis appeared to make an effort, like a man who, in the full swing of making up a story, finds himself suddenly arrested by an unforeseen obstacle; but, as the eyes of his three friends were upon him, he could not by any means draw back.

“This doctor has a niece,” continued Aramis.

“Oh! he has a niece,” interrupted Porthos.

“Yes, a lady of the highest morality,” said Aramis.

The three friends began to laugh.

“Ah! if you either laugh or make insinuations, you shall hear no more,” said Aramis.

“We are credulous as the Mahometans, and dumb as catafalks!” said Athos.

“Then I will continue,” said Aramis. “This niece comes sometimes to see her uncle, and as she was there by chance yesterday at the same time that I was, I was obliged to offer to conduct her to the carriage.”

“Ah! the niece of this doctor has a carriage,” interrupted Porthos, whose chief fault consisted in having too long a tongue. “A desirable connection, my friend!”

“Porthos,” said Aramis, “I have often intimated to you, that you are very indiscreet, and it does you no good in the eyes of gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, who saw how the adventure arose, “the thing is serious; let us endeavour to avoid joking. Go on, Aramis; go on.”

“All of a sudden a tall, dark man, with the manners of a gentleman—like your man, d’Artagnan—”

“The same, perhaps,” said the Gascon.

“It is possible!” said Aramis; “however, he approached me, accompanied by six or seven men, who followed him at about ten paces’ distance, and then, in the most polite tone, said, ‘My lord duke, and you, madame,’ addressing the lady—”

“What! the doctor’s niece?” said Porthos.

“Silence, Porthos,” said Athos; “you are insupportable.”

“‘Please to enter that carriage, without resistance, and in silence.’”

“He took you for Buckingham?” said d’Artagnan.

“Almost certainly,” said Aramis.

“But this lady?” said Porthos.

“He took her for the queen,” said d’Artagnan.

“Precisely!” said Aramis.

“The Gascon is the devil!” said Athos; “nothing escapes him!”

“The fact is,” said Porthos, “that Aramis is about the height, and has something of the figure, of the handsome duke; and yet one would think that the uniform of a musketeer—”

“I had on an enormous cloak.”

“In the month of July! Excellent!” cried Porthos; “was the doctor afraid that you might be recognised?”

“I can conceive,” said Athos, “that the spy might be deceived by the figure; but the countenance?”

“I had a large hat,” replied Aramis.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Porthos, “what extraordinary precautions for studying theology?”

“Gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, “do not let us lose our time in badinage; let us rather make inquiries, and discover the mercer’s wife, who might prove a key to the intrigue.”

“What! a woman of such an inferior condition! Do you think it likely, d’Artagnan?” asked Porthos, with a derisive pout.

“Have I not told you, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, “that she is the god-daughter of la Porte, who is the confidential servant of the queen. Perhaps it is her majesty’s policy to seek assistance from a source so humble. Lofty heads are visible at a distance, and the cardinal has a good eye.”

“Well, then,” said Porthos, “come to terms with the mercer immediately, and good terms.”

“It is unnecessary,” said d’Artagnan; “if he should not pay us, we shall be well enough paid from another quarter.”

At this moment a noise of hasty steps was heard upon the stairs; the door opened with a crash, and the unhappy mercer rushed into the room in which this council had taken place.

“Oh, gentlemen!” he exclaimed, “save me, save me! in the name of heaven save me! There are four men come to arrest me!”

Porthos and Aramis arose.

“One moment,” cried d’Artagnan, making them a sign to sheath their swords, which they had half drawn—“wait one moment; it is not courage, but diplomacy, that is necessary here!”

“Nevertheless,” said Porthos, “we will not permit—”

“Give d’Artagnan a free hand,” said Athos; “he is the cleverest of the party, and, for my part, I declare that I will obey him. Do what you like, d’Artagnan.”

As this speech was uttered, the four guards appeared at the door of the ante-room, but seeing four musketeers standing there, with swords by their sides, they hesitated to advance any farther.

“Enter, gentlemen, enter,” said d’Artagnan; “you are in my apartment, and we are all the loyal subjects of the king and cardinal.”

“Then, gentlemen, you will not oppose any obstacle to the execution of our orders?” demanded he who appeared to be the leader of the party.

“On the contrary, we would assist you were it necessary.”

“What is he saying?” inquired Porthos.

“You are stupid!” said Athos. “Silence!”

“But you promised to assist me!” whispered the poor mercer.

“We cannot assist you in prison,” hastily replied d’Artagnan, in an undertone; “and if we appear to defend you, we shall be arrested also.”

“It seems to me, however—” said the poor man.

“Come, gentlemen, come,” said d’Artagnan aloud. “I have no motive for defending this person; I saw him today for the first time, and on what occasion he will himself tell you. He came to demand his rent—did you not, M. Bonancieux?—Answer!”

“It is the plain truth!” cried the mercer; “but the gentleman does not add—”

“Silence about me! silence concerning my friends! silence, more especially, about the queen!” whispered d’Artagnan, “or you will destroy us all, without saving yourself,—Go, go, gentlemen, take away this man!”

So saying, d’Artagnan pushed the poor bewildered mercer into the hands of the guard, at the same time exclaiming—

“You are a rascally niggard! You come to demand money of me, a musketeer!—to prison with you! Gentlemen, I say again, take him to prison; and keep him under lock and key as long as possible; that will give me time to pay.”

The officers overwhelmed d’Artagnan with thanks, and carried off their prey.

As they were leaving, d’Artagnan detained the leader.

“Suppose we drank to each other’s health?” said he, filling two glasses with the Beaugency, for which he was indebted to the liberality of M. Bonancieux.

“It will be a great honour to me,” replied the leader of the guards; “and I accept the offer with gratitude.”

“Here’s to you, then, M.—You have the advantage of me, sir.”

“Boisrenard.”

“M. Boisrenard!”

“I drink to you, sir, but, in return, you have the advantage of me.”

“D’Artagnan.”

“To your health, M. d’Artagnan!”

“And, above all,” said d’Artagnan, as if carried away by his enthusiasm, “to the health of the king and the cardinal.”

The officer might have doubted d’Artagnan’s sincerity had the wine been bad; but it was excellent, and he was satisfied.

“But what devil’s own villainy have you done now?” exclaimed Porthos, when the officer had joined his companions, and the four friends found themselves alone. “For shame! Four musketeers allow a miserable creature, who implored their assistance, to be arrested in the midst of them! and, more than that, a gentleman to tipple with a bailiff!”

“Porthos,” said Aramis, “Athos has already told you that you are stupid; and I am of his opinion. D’Artagnan, you are a great man; and when you are in M. de Treville’s situation, I beg your interest to procure me an abbey.”

“Ah! I am quite in the dark!” said Porthos. “Do you also, Athos, approve of what d’Artagnan has done?”

“Most assuredly!” said Athos. “I not only approve of it, but I congratulate him.”

“And now, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, not deigning to explain himself to Porthos—“‘All for one—one for all!’ this is our motto, is it not?”

“Nevertheless—” said Porthos.

“Stretch out your hand and swear,” cried Athos and Aramis at the same time.

Conquered by the example, but muttering in a low tone, Porthos stretched out his hand, and the four friends repeated with one voice the formal motto dictated by d’Artagnan—

“‘All for one; and one for all!’”

“That is right. Now, retire to your homes,” said d’Artagnan, as if he had never been accustomed to anything but to command others. “But,” he added, “be watchful; for remember, that from this moment we are at issue with the cardinal!”