11 IN WHICH THE PLOT THICKENS
His visit to M. de Treville being paid, the pensive d'Artagnan took thelongest way homeward.
On what was d'Artagnan thinking, that he strayed thus from his path,gazing at the stars of heaven, and sometimes sighing, sometimes smiling?
He was thinking of Mme. Bonacieux. For an apprentice Musketeer the youngwoman was almost an ideal of love. Pretty, mysterious, initiated inalmost all the secrets of the court, which reflected such a charminggravity over her pleasing features, it might be surmised that she wasnot wholly unmoved; and this is an irresistible charm to novices inlove. Moreover, d'Artagnan had delivered her from the hands of thedemons who wished to search and ill treat her; and this importantservice had established between them one of those sentiments ofgratitude which so easily assume a more tender character.
D'Artagnan already fancied himself, so rapid is the flight of our dreamsupon the wings of imagination, accosted by a messenger from the youngwoman, who brought him some billet appointing a meeting, a gold chain,or a diamond. We have observed that young cavaliers received presentsfrom their king without shame. Let us add that in these times of laxmorality they had no more delicacy with respect to the mistresses; andthat the latter almost always left them valuable and durableremembrances, as if they essayed to conquer the fragility of theirsentiments by the solidity of their gifts.
Without a blush, men made their way in the world by the means of womenblushing. Such as were only beautiful gave their beauty, whence, withoutdoubt, comes the proverb, "The most beautiful girl in the world can onlygive what she has." Such as were rich gave in addition a part of theirmoney; and a vast number of heroes of that gallant period may be citedwho would neither have won their spurs in the first place, nor theirbattles afterward, without the purse, more or less furnished, whichtheir mistress fastened to the saddle bow.
D'Artagnan owned nothing. Provincial diffidence, that slight varnish,the ephemeral flower, that down of the peach, had evaporated to thewinds through the little orthodox counsels which the three Musketeersgave their friend. D'Artagnan, following the strange custom of thetimes, considered himself at Paris as on a campaign, neither more norless than if he had been in Flanders--Spain yonder, woman here. In eachthere was an enemy to contend with, and contributions to be levied.
But, we must say, at the present moment d'Artagnan was ruled by afeeling much more noble and disinterested. The mercer had said that hewas rich; the young man might easily guess that with so weak a man as M.Bonacieux; and interest was almost foreign to this commencement of love,which had been the consequence of it. We say ALMOST, for the idea that ayoung, handsome, kind, and witty woman is at the same time rich takesnothing from the beginning of love, but on the contrary strengthens it.
There are in affluence a crowd of aristocratic cares and caprices whichare highly becoming to beauty. A fine and white stocking, a silken robe,a lace kerchief, a pretty slipper on the foot, a tasty ribbon on thehead do not make an ugly woman pretty, but they make a pretty womanbeautiful, without reckoning the hands, which gain by all this; thehands, among women particularly, to be beautiful must be idle.
Then d'Artagnan, as the reader, from whom we have not concealed thestate of his fortune, very well knows--d'Artagnan was not a millionaire;he hoped to become one someday, but the time which in his own mind hefixed upon for this happy change was still far distant. In themeanwhile, how disheartening to see the woman one loves long for thosethousands of nothings which constitute a woman's happiness, and beunable to give her those thousands of nothings. At least, when the womanis rich and the lover is not, that which he cannot offer she offers toherself; and although it is generally with her husband's money that sheprocures herself this indulgence, the gratitude for it seldom reverts tohim.
Then d'Artagnan, disposed to become the most tender of lovers, was atthe same time a very devoted friend. In the midst of his amorousprojects for the mercer's wife, he did not forget his friends. Thepretty Mme. Bonacieux was just the woman to walk with in the Plain St.Denis or in the fair of St. Germain, in company with Athos, Porthos, andAramis, to whom d'Artagnan had often remarked this. Then one could enjoycharming little dinners, where one touches on one side the hand of afriend, and on the other the foot of a mistress. Besides, on pressingoccasions, in extreme difficulties, d'Artagnan would become thepreserver of his friends.
And M. Bonacieux, whom d'Artagnan had pushed into the hands of theofficers, denying him aloud although he had promised in a whisper tosave him? We are compelled to admit to our readers that d'Artagnanthought nothing about him in any way; or that if he did think of him, itwas only to say to himself that he was very well where he was, whereverit might be. Love is the most selfish of all the passions.
Let our readers reassure themselves. If d'Artagnan forgets his host, orappears to forget him, under the pretense of not knowing where he hasbeen carried, we will not forget him, and we know where he is. But forthe moment, let us do as did the amorous Gascon; we will see after theworthy mercer later.
D'Artagnan, reflecting on his future amours, addressing himself to thebeautiful night, and smiling at the stars, ascended the RueCherish-Midi, or Chase-Midi, as it was then called. As he found himselfin the quarter in which Aramis lived, he took it into his head to payhis friend a visit in order to explain the motives which had led him tosend Planchet with a request that he would come instantly to themousetrap. Now, if Aramis had been at home when Planchet came to hisabode, he had doubtless hastened to the Rue des Fossoyeurs, and findingnobody there but his other two companions perhaps, they would not beable to conceive what all this meant. This mystery required anexplanation; at least, so d'Artagnan declared to himself.
He likewise thought this was an opportunity for talking about prettylittle Mme. Bonacieux, of whom his head, if not his heart, was alreadyfull. We must never look for discretion in first love. First love isaccompanied by such excessive joy that unless the joy be allowed tooverflow, it will stifle you.
Paris for two hours past had been dark, and seemed a desert. Eleveno'clock sounded from all the clocks of the Faubourg St. Germain. It wasdelightful weather. D'Artagnan was passing along a lane on the spotwhere the Rue d'Assas is now situated, breathing the balmy emanationswhich were borne upon the wind from the Rue de Vaugirard, and whicharose from the gardens refreshed by the dews of evening and the breezeof night. From a distance resounded, deadened, however, by goodshutters, the songs of the tipplers, enjoying themselves in the cabaretsscattered along the plain. Arrived at the end of the lane, d'Artagnanturned to the left. The house in which Aramis dwelt was situated betweenthe Rue Cassette and the Rue Servandoni.
D'Artagnan had just passed the Rue Cassette, and already perceived thedoor of his friend's house, shaded by a mass of sycamores and clematiswhich formed a vast arch opposite the front of it, when he perceivedsomething like a shadow issuing from the Rue Servandoni. This somethingwas enveloped in a cloak, and d'Artagnan at first believed it was a man;but by the smallness of the form, the hesitation of the walk, and theindecision of the step, he soon discovered that it was a woman. Further,this woman, as if not certain of the house she was seeking, lifted upher eyes to look around her, stopped, went backward, and then returnedagain. D'Artagnan was perplexed.
"Shall I go and offer her my services?" thought he. "By her step shemust be young; perhaps she is pretty. Oh, yes! But a woman who wandersin the streets at this hour only ventures out to meet her lover. If Ishould disturb a rendezvous, that would not be the best means ofcommencing an acquaintance."
Meantime the young woman continued to advance, counting the houses andwindows. This was neither long nor difficult. There were but threehotels in this part of the street; and only two windows looking towardthe road, one of which was in a pavilion parallel to that which Aramisoccupied, the other belonging to Aramis himself.
"PARIDIEU!" said d'Artagnan to himself, to whose mind the niece of thetheologian reverted, "PARDIEU, it would be droll if this belated doveshould be in search of our friend'
s house. But on my soul, it looks so.Ah, my dear Aramis, this time I shall find you out." And d'Artagnan,making himself as small as he could, concealed himself in the darkestside of the street near a stone bench placed at the back of a niche.
The young woman continued to advance; and in addition to the lightnessof her step, which had betrayed her, she emitted a little cough whichdenoted a sweet voice. D'Artagnan believed this cough to be a signal.
Nevertheless, whether the cough had been answered by a similar signalwhich had fixed the irresolution of the nocturnal seeker, or whetherwithout this aid she saw that she had arrived at the end of her journey,she resolutely drew near to Aramis's shutter, and tapped, at three equalintervals, with her bent finger.
"This is all very fine, dear Aramis," murmured d'Artagnan. "Ah, MonsieurHypocrite, I understand how you study theology."
The three blows were scarcely struck, when the inside blind was openedand a light appeared through the panes of the outside shutter.
"Ah, ah!" said the listener, "not through doors, but through windows!Ah, this visit was expected. We shall see the windows open, and the ladyenter by escalade. Very pretty!"
But to the great astonishment of d'Artagnan, the shutter remainedclosed. Still more, the light which had shone for an instantdisappeared, and all was again in obscurity.
D'Artagnan thought this could not last long, and continued to look withall his eyes and listen with all his ears.
He was right; at the end of some seconds two sharp taps were heardinside. The young woman in the street replied by a single tap, and theshutter was opened a little way.
It may be judged whether d'Artagnan looked or listened with avidity.Unfortunately the light had been removed into another chamber; but theeyes of the young man were accustomed to the night. Besides, the eyes ofthe Gascons have, as it is asserted, like those of cats, the faculty ofseeing in the dark.
D'Artagnan then saw that the young woman took from her pocket a whiteobject, which she unfolded quickly, and which took the form of ahandkerchief. She made her interlocutor observe the corner of thisunfolded object.
This immediately recalled to d'Artagnan's mind the handkerchief which hehad found at the feet of Mme. Bonacieux, which had reminded him of thatwhich he had dragged from under the feet of Aramis.
"What the devil could that handkerchief signify?"
Placed where he was, d'Artagnan could not perceive the face of Aramis.We say Aramis, because the young man entertained no doubt that it washis friend who held this dialogue from the interior with the lady of theexterior. Curiosity prevailed over prudence; and profiting by thepreoccupation into which the sight of the handkerchief appeared to haveplunged the two personages now on the scene, he stole from his hidingplace, and quick as lightning, but stepping with utmost caution, he ranand placed himself close to the angle of the wall, from which his eyecould pierce the interior of Aramis's room.
Upon gaining this advantage d'Artagnan was near uttering a cry ofsurprise; it was not Aramis who was conversing with the nocturnalvisitor, it was a woman! D'Artagnan, however, could only see enough torecognize the form of her vestments, not enough to distinguish herfeatures.
At the same instant the woman inside drew a second handkerchief from herpocket, and exchanged it for that which had just been shown to her. Thensome words were spoken by the two women. At length the shutter closed.The woman who was outside the window turned round, and passed withinfour steps of d'Artagnan, pulling down the hood of her mantle; but theprecaution was too late, d'Artagnan had already recognized Mme.Bonacieux.
Mme. Bonacieux! The suspicion that it was she had crossed the mind ofd'Artagnan when she drew the handkerchief from her pocket; but whatprobability was there that Mme. Bonacieux, who had sent for M. Laportein order to be reconducted to the Louvre, should be running about thestreets of Paris at half past eleven at night, at the risk of beingabducted a second time?
This must be, then, an affair of importance; and what is the mostimportant affair to a woman of twenty-five! Love.
But was it on her own account, or on account of another, that sheexposed herself to such hazards? This was a question the young man askedhimself, whom the demon of jealousy already gnawed, being in heartneither more nor less than an accepted lover.
There was a very simple means of satisfying himself whither Mme.Bonacieux was going; that was to follow her. This method was so simplethat d'Artagnan employed it quite naturally and instinctively.
But at the sight of the young man, who detached himself from the walllike a statue walking from its niche, and at the noise of the stepswhich she heard resound behind her, Mme. Bonacieux uttered a little cryand fled.
D'Artagnan ran after her. It was not difficult for him to overtake awoman embarrassed with her cloak. He came up with her before she hadtraversed a third of the street. The unfortunate woman was exhausted,not by fatigue, but by terror, and when d'Artagnan placed his hand uponher shoulder, she sank upon one knee, crying in a choking voice, "Killme, if you please, you shall know nothing!"
D'Artagnan raised her by passing his arm round her waist; but as he feltby her weight she was on the point of fainting, he made haste toreassure her by protestations of devotedness. These protestations werenothing for Mme. Bonacieux, for such protestations may be made with theworst intentions in the world; but the voice was all. Mme. Bonacieuxthought she recognized the sound of that voice; she reopened her eyes,cast a quick glance upon the man who had terrified her so, and at onceperceiving it was d'Artagnan, she uttered a cry of joy, "Oh, it is you,it is you! Thank God, thank God!"
"Yes, it is I," said d'Artagnan, "it is I, whom God has sent to watchover you."
"Was it with that intention you followed me?" asked the young woman,with a coquettish smile, whose somewhat bantering character resumed itsinfluence, and with whom all fear had disappeared from the moment inwhich she recognized a friend in one she had taken for an enemy.
"No," said d'Artagnan; "no, I confess it. It was chance that threw me inyour way; I saw a woman knocking at the window of one of my friends."
"One of your friends?" interrupted Mme. Bonacieux.
"Without doubt; Aramis is one of my best friends."
"Aramis! Who is he?"
"Come, come, you won't tell me you don't know Aramis?"
"This is the first time I ever heard his name pronounced."
"It is the first time, then, that you ever went to that house?"
"Undoubtedly."
"And you did not know that it was inhabited by a young man?"
"No."
"By a Musketeer?"
"No, indeed!"
"It was not he, then, you came to seek?"
"Not the least in the world. Besides, you must have seen that the personto whom I spoke was a woman."
"That is true; but this woman is a friend of Aramis--"
"I know nothing of that."
"--since she lodges with him."
"That does not concern me."
"But who is she?"
"Oh, that is not my secret."
"My dear Madame Bonacieux, you are charming; but at the same time youare one of the most mysterious women."
"Do I lose by that?"
"No; you are, on the contrary, adorable."
"Give me your arm, then."
"Most willingly. And now?"
"Now escort me."
"Where?"
"Where I am going."
"But where are you going?"
"You will see, because you will leave me at the door."
"Shall I wait for you?"
"That will be useless."
"You will return alone, then?"
"Perhaps yes, perhaps no."
"But will the person who shall accompany you afterward be a man or awoman?"
"I don't know yet."
"But I will know it!"
"How so?"
"I will wait until you come out."
"In that case, adieu."
"Why so?"
"I do not want you.
"
"But you have claimed--"
"The aid of a gentleman, not the watchfulness of a spy."
"The word is rather hard."
"How are they called who follow others in spite of them?"
"They are indiscreet."
"The word is too mild."
"Well, madame, I perceive I must do as you wish."
"Why did you deprive yourself of the merit of doing so at once?"
"Is there no merit in repentance?"
"And do you really repent?"
"I know nothing about it myself. But what I know is that I promise to doall you wish if you allow me to accompany you where you are going."
"And you will leave me then?"
"Yes."
"Without waiting for my coming out again?"
"Yes."
"Word of honor?"
"By the faith of a gentleman. Take my arm, and let us go."
D'Artagnan offered his arm to Mme. Bonacieux, who willingly took it,half laughing, half trembling, and both gained the top of Rue de laHarpe. Arriving there, the young woman seemed to hesitate, as she hadbefore done in the Rue Vaugirard. She seemed, however, by certain signs,to recognize a door, and approaching that door, "And now, monsieur,"said she, "it is here I have business; a thousand thanks for yourhonorable company, which has saved me from all the dangers to which,alone, I was exposed. But the moment is come to keep your word; I havereached my destination."
"And you will have nothing to fear on your return?"
"I shall have nothing to fear but robbers."
"And that is nothing?"
"What could they take from me? I have not a penny about me."
"You forget that beautiful handkerchief with the coat of arms."
"Which?"
"That which I found at your feet, and replaced in your pocket."
"Hold your tongue, imprudent man! Do you wish to destroy me?"
"You see very plainly that there is still danger for you, since a singleword makes you tremble; and you confess that if that word were heard youwould be ruined. Come, come, madame!" cried d'Artagnan, seizing herhands, and surveying her with an ardent glance, "come, be more generous.Confide in me. Have you not read in my eyes that there is nothing butdevotion and sympathy in my heart?"
"Yes," replied Mme. Bonacieux; "therefore, ask my own secrets, and Iwill reveal them to you; but those of others--that is quite anotherthing."
"Very well," said d'Artagnan, "I shall discover them; as these secretsmay have an influence over your life, these secrets must become mine."
"Beware of what you do!" cried the young woman, in a manner so seriousas to make d'Artagnan start in spite of himself. "Oh, meddle in nothingwhich concerns me. Do not seek to assist me in that which I amaccomplishing. This I ask of you in the name of the interest with whichI inspire you, in the name of the service you have rendered me and whichI never shall forget while I have life. Rather, place faith in what Itell you. Have no more concern about me; I exist no longer for you, anymore than if you had never seen me."
"Must Aramis do as much as I, madame?" said d'Artagnan, deeply piqued.
"This is the second or third time, monsieur, that you have repeated thatname, and yet I have told you that I do not know him."
"You do not know the man at whose shutter you have just knocked? Indeed,madame, you believe me too credulous!"
"Confess that it is for the sake of making me talk that you invent thisstory and create this personage."
"I invent nothing, madame; I create nothing. I only speak that exacttruth."
"And you say that one of your friends lives in that house?"
"I say so, and I repeat it for the third time; that house is oneinhabited by my friend, and that friend is Aramis."
"All this will be cleared up at a later period," murmured the youngwoman; "no, monsieur, be silent."
"If you could see my heart," said d'Artagnan, "you would there read somuch curiosity that you would pity me and so much love that you wouldinstantly satisfy my curiosity. We have nothing to fear from those wholove us."
"You speak very suddenly of love, monsieur," said the young woman,shaking her head.
"That is because love has come suddenly upon me, and for the first time;and because I am only twenty."
The young woman looked at him furtively.
"Listen; I am already upon the scent," resumed d'Artagnan. "About threemonths ago I was near having a duel with Aramis concerning ahandkerchief resembling the one you showed to the woman in hishouse--for a handkerchief marked in the same manner, I am sure."
"Monsieur," said the young woman, "you weary me very much, I assure you,with your questions."
"But you, madame, prudent as you are, think, if you were to be arrestedwith that handkerchief, and that handkerchief were to be seized, wouldyou not be compromised?"
"In what way? The initials are only mine--C. B., Constance Bonacieux."
"Or Camille de Bois-Tracy."
"Silence, monsieur! Once again, silence! Ah, since the dangers I incuron my own account cannot stop you, think of those you may yourself run!"
"Me?"
"Yes; there is peril of imprisonment, risk of life in knowing me."
"Then I will not leave you."
"Monsieur!" said the young woman, supplicating him and clasping herhands together, "monsieur, in the name of heaven, by the honor of asoldier, by the courtesy of a gentleman, depart! There, there midnightsounds! That is the hour when I am expected."
"Madame," said the young man, bowing; "I can refuse nothing asked of methus. Be content; I will depart."
"But you will not follow me; you will not watch me?"
"I will return home instantly."
"Ah, I was quite sure you were a good and brave young man," said Mme.Bonacieux, holding out her hand to him, and placing the other upon theknocker of a little door almost hidden in the wall.
D'Artagnan seized the hand held out to him, and kissed it ardently.
"Ah! I wish I had never seen you!" cried d'Artagnan, with that ingenuousroughness which women often prefer to the affectations of politeness,because it betrays the depths of the thought and proves that feelingprevails over reason.
"Well!" resumed Mme. Bonacieux, in a voice almost caressing, andpressing the hand of d'Artagnan, who had not relinquished hers, "well: Iwill not say as much as you do; what is lost for today may not be lostforever. Who knows, when I shall be at liberty, that I may not satisfyyour curiosity?"
"And will you make the same promise to my love?" cried d'Artagnan,beside himself with joy.
"Oh, as to that, I do not engage myself. That depends upon thesentiments with which you may inspire me."
"Then today, madame--"
"Oh, today, I am no further than gratitude."
"Ah! You are too charming," said d'Artagnan, sorrowfully; "and you abusemy love."
"No, I use your generosity, that's all. But be of good cheer; withcertain people, everything comes round."
"Oh, you render me the happiest of men! Do not forget this evening--donot forget that promise."
"Be satisfied. In the proper time and place I will remember everything.Now then, go, go, in the name of heaven! I was expected at sharpmidnight, and I am late."
"By five minutes."
"Yes; but in certain circumstances five minutes are five ages."
"When one loves."
"Well! And who told you I had no affair with a lover?"
"It is a man, then, who expects you?" cried d'Artagnan. "A man!"
"The discussion is going to begin again!" said Mme. Bonacieux, with ahalf-smile which was not exempt from a tinge of impatience.
"No, no; I go, I depart! I believe in you, and I would have all themerit of my devotion, even if that devotion were stupidity. Adieu,madame, adieu!"
And as if he only felt strength to detach himself by a violent effortfrom the hand he held, he sprang away, running, while Mme. Bonacieuxknocked, as at the shutter, three light and regular taps. When he hadgained the angle o
f the street, he turned. The door had been opened, andshut again; the mercer's pretty wife had disappeared.
D'Artagnan pursued his way. He had given his word not to watch Mme.Bonacieux, and if his life had depended upon the spot to which she wasgoing or upon the person who should accompany her, d'Artagnan would havereturned home, since he had so promised. Five minutes later he was inthe Rue des Fossoyeurs.
"Poor Athos!" said he; "he will never guess what all this means. He willhave fallen asleep waiting for me, or else he will have returned home,where he will have learned that a woman had been there. A woman withAthos! After all," continued d'Artagnan, "there was certainly one withAramis. All this is very strange; and I am curious to know how it willend."
"Badly, monsieur, badly!" replied a voice which the young man recognizedas that of Planchet; for, soliloquizing aloud, as very preoccupiedpeople do, he had entered the alley, at the end of which were the stairswhich led to his chamber.
"How, badly? What do you mean by that, you idiot?" asked d'Artagnan."What has happened?"
"All sorts of misfortunes."
"What?"
"In the first place, Monsieur Athos is arrested."
"Arrested! Athos arrested! What for?"
"He was found in your lodging; they took him for you."
"And by whom was he arrested?"
"By Guards brought by the men in black whom you put to flight."
"Why did he not tell them his name? Why did he not tell them he knewnothing about this affair?"
"He took care not to do so, monsieur; on the contrary, he came up to meand said, 'It is your master that needs his liberty at this moment andnot I, since he knows everything and I know nothing. They will believehe is arrested, and that will give him time; in three days I will tellthem who I am, and they cannot fail to let me go.'"
"Bravo, Athos! Noble heart!" murmured d'Artagnan. "I know him wellthere! And what did the officers do?"
"Four conveyed him away, I don't know where--to the Bastille or Fortl'Eveque. Two remained with the men in black, who rummaged every placeand took all the papers. The last two mounted guard at the door duringthis examination; then, when all was over, they went away, leaving thehouse empty and exposed."
"And Porthos and Aramis?"
"I could not find them; they did not come."
"But they may come any moment, for you left word that I awaited them?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Well, don't budge, then; if they come, tell them what has happened. Letthem wait for me at the Pomme-de-Pin. Here it would be dangerous; thehouse may be watched. I will run to Monsieur de Treville to tell themall this, and will meet them there."
"Very well, monsieur," said Planchet.
"But you will remain; you are not afraid?" said d'Artagnan, coming backto recommend courage to his lackey.
"Be easy, monsieur," said Planchet; "you do not know me yet. I am bravewhen I set about it. It is all in beginning. Besides, I am a Picard."
"Then it is understood," said d'Artagnan; "you would rather be killedthan desert your post?"
"Yes, monsieur; and there is nothing I would not do to prove to Monsieurthat I am attached to him."
"Good!" said d'Artagnan to himself. "It appears that the method I haveadopted with this boy is decidedly the best. I shall use it again uponoccasion."
And with all the swiftness of his legs, already a little fatigued,however, with the perambulations of the day, d'Artagnan directed hiscourse toward M. de Treville's.
M de Treville was not at his hotel. His company was on guard at theLouvre; he was at the Louvre with his company.
It was necessary to reach M. de Treville; it was important that heshould be informed of what was passing. D'Artagnan resolved to try andenter the Louvre. His costume of Guardsman in the company of M.Dessessart ought to be his passport.
He therefore went down the Rue des Petits Augustins, and came up to thequay, in order to take the New Bridge. He had at first an idea ofcrossing by the ferry; but on gaining the riverside, he had mechanicallyput his hand into his pocket, and perceived that he had not wherewithalto pay his passage.
As he gained the top of the Rue Guenegaud, he saw two persons coming outof the Rue Dauphine whose appearance very much struck him. Of the twopersons who composed this group, one was a man and the other a woman.The woman had the outline of Mme. Bonacieux; the man resembled Aramis somuch as to be mistaken for him.
Besides, the woman wore that black mantle which d'Artagnan could stillsee outlined on the shutter of the Rue de Vaugirard and on the door ofthe Rue de la Harpe; still further, the man wore the uniform of aMusketeer.
The woman's hood was pulled down, and the man held a handkerchief to hisface. Both, as this double precaution indicated, had an interest in notbeing recognized.
They took the bridge. That was d'Artagnan's road, as he was going to theLouvre. D'Artagnan followed them.
He had not gone twenty steps before he became convinced that the womanwas really Mme. Bonacieux and that the man was Aramis.
He felt at that instant all the suspicions of jealousy agitating hisheart. He felt himself doubly betrayed, by his friend and by her whom healready loved like a mistress. Mme. Bonacieux had declared to him, byall the gods, that she did not know Aramis; and a quarter of an hourafter having made this assertion, he found her hanging on the arm ofAramis.
D'Artagnan did not reflect that he had only known the mercer's prettywife for three hours; that she owed him nothing but a little gratitudefor having delivered her from the men in black, who wished to carry heroff, and that she had promised him nothing. He considered himself anoutraged, betrayed, and ridiculed lover. Blood and anger mounted to hisface; he was resolved to unravel the mystery.
The young man and young woman perceived they were watched, and redoubledtheir speed. D'Artagnan determined upon his course. He passed them, thenreturned so as to meet them exactly before the Samaritaine, which wasilluminated by a lamp which threw its light over all that part of thebridge.
D'Artagnan stopped before them, and they stopped before him.
"What do you want, monsieur?" demanded the Musketeer, recoiling a step,and with a foreign accent, which proved to d'Artagnan that he wasdeceived in one of his conjectures.
"It is not Aramis!" cried he.
"No, monsieur, it is not Aramis; and by your exclamation I perceive youhave mistaken me for another, and pardon you."
"You pardon me?" cried d'Artagnan.
"Yes," replied the stranger. "Allow me, then, to pass on, since it isnot with me you have anything to do."
"You are right, monsieur, it is not with you that I have anything to do;it is with Madame."
"With Madame! You do not know her," replied the stranger.
"You are deceived, monsieur; I know her very well."
"Ah," said Mme. Bonacieux; in a tone of reproach, "ah, monsieur, I hadyour promise as a soldier and your word as a gentleman. I hoped to beable to rely upon that."
"And I, madame!" said d'Artagnan, embarrassed; "you promised me--"
"Take my arm, madame," said the stranger, "and let us continue our way."
D'Artagnan, however, stupefied, cast down, annihilated by all thathappened, stood, with crossed arms, before the Musketeer and Mme.Bonacieux.
The Musketeer advanced two steps, and pushed d'Artagnan aside with hishand. D'Artagnan made a spring backward and drew his sword. At the sametime, and with the rapidity of lightning, the stranger drew his.
"In the name of heaven, my Lord!" cried Mme. Bonacieux, throwing herselfbetween the combatants and seizing the swords with her hands.
"My Lord!" cried d'Artagnan, enlightened by a sudden idea, "my Lord!Pardon me, monsieur, but you are not--"
"My Lord the Duke of Buckingham," said Mme. Bonacieux, in an undertone;"and now you may ruin us all."
"My Lord, Madame, I ask a hundred pardons! But I love her, my Lord, andwas jealous. You know what it is to love, my Lord. Pardon me, and thentell me how I can risk my life to serve your Grace?"
/> "You are a brave young man," said Buckingham, holding out his hand tod'Artagnan, who pressed it respectfully. "You offer me your services;with the same frankness I accept them. Follow us at a distance of twentypaces, as far as the Louvre, and if anyone watches us, slay him!"
D'Artagnan placed his naked sword under his arm, allowed the duke andMme. Bonacieux to take twenty steps ahead, and then followed them, readyto execute the instructions of the noble and elegant minister of CharlesI.
Fortunately, he had no opportunity to give the duke this proof of hisdevotion, and the young woman and the handsome Musketeer entered theLouvre by the wicket of the Echelle without any interference.
As for d'Artagnan, he immediately repaired to the cabaret of thePomme-de-Pin, where he found Porthos and Aramis awaiting him. Withoutgiving them any explanation of the alarm and inconvenience he had causedthem, he told them that he had terminated the affair alone in which hehad for a moment believed he should need their assistance.
Meanwhile, carried away as we are by our narrative, we must leave ourthree friends to themselves, and follow the Duke of Buckingham and hisguide through the labyrinths of the Louvre.
Les trois mousquetaires. English Page 12