Les trois mousquetaires. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  65 TRIAL

  It was a stormy and dark night; vast clouds covered the heavens,concealing the stars; the moon would not rise till midnight.

  Occasionally, by the light of a flash of lightning which gleamed alongthe horizon, the road stretched itself before them, white and solitary;the flash extinct, all remained in darkness.

  Every minute Athos was forced to restrain d'Artagnan, constantly inadvance of the little troop, and to beg him to keep in the line, whichin an instant he again departed from. He had but one thought--to goforward; and he went.

  They passed in silence through the little village of Festubert, wherethe wounded servant was, and then skirted the wood of Richebourg. AtHerlier, Planchet, who led the column, turned to the left.

  Several times Lord de Winter, Porthos, or Aramis tried to talk with theman in the red cloak; but to every interrogation which they put to himhe bowed, without response. The travelers then comprehended that theremust be some reason why the unknown preserved such a silence, and ceasedto address themselves to him.

  The storm increased, the flashes succeeded one another more rapidly, thethunder began to growl, and the wind, the precursor of a hurricane,whistled in the plumes and the hair of the horsemen.

  The cavalcade trotted on more sharply.

  A little before they came to Fromelles the storm burst. They spreadtheir cloaks. There remained three leagues to travel, and they did itamid torrents of rain.

  D'Artagnan took off his hat, and could not be persuaded to make use ofhis cloak. He found pleasure in feeling the water trickle over hisburning brow and over his body, agitated by feverish shudders.

  The moment the little troop passed Goskal and were approaching the Post,a man sheltered beneath a tree detached himself from the trunk withwhich he had been confounded in the darkness, and advanced into themiddle of the road, putting his finger on his lips.

  Athos recognized Grimaud.

  "What's the manner?" cried Athos. "Has she left Armentieres?"

  Grimaud made a sign in the affirmative. D'Artagnan ground his teeth.

  "Silence, d'Artagnan!" said Athos. "I have charged myself with thisaffair. It is for me, then, to interrogate Grimaud."

  "Where is she?" asked Athos.

  Grimaud extended his hands in the direction of the Lys. "Far from here?"asked Athos.

  Grimaud showed his master his forefinger bent.

  "Alone?" asked Athos.

  Grimaud made the sign yes.

  "Gentlemen," said Athos, "she is alone within half a league of us, inthe direction of the river."

  "That's well," said d'Artagnan. "Lead us, Grimaud."

  Grimaud took his course across the country, and acted as guide to thecavalcade.

  At the end of five hundred paces, more or less, they came to a rivulet,which they forded.

  By the aid of the lightning they perceived the village of Erquinheim.

  "Is she there, Grimaud?" asked Athos.

  Grimaud shook his head negatively.

  "Silence, then!" cried Athos.

  And the troop continued their route.

  Another flash illuminated all around them. Grimaud extended his arm, andby the bluish splendor of the fiery serpent they distinguished a littleisolated house on the banks of the river, within a hundred paces of aferry.

  One window was lighted.

  "Here we are!" said Athos.

  At this moment a man who had been crouching in a ditch jumped up andcame towards them. It was Mousqueton. He pointed his finger to thelighted window.

  "She is there," said he.

  "And Bazin?" asked Athos.

  "While I watched the window, he guarded the door."

  "Good!" said Athos. "You are good and faithful servants."

  Athos sprang from his horse, gave the bridle to Grimaud, and advancedtoward the window, after having made a sign to the rest of the troop togo toward the door.

  The little house was surrounded by a low, quickset hedge, two or threefeet high. Athos sprang over the hedge and went up to the window, whichwas without shutters, but had the half-curtains closely drawn.

  He mounted the skirting stone that his eyes might look over the curtain.

  By the light of a lamp he saw a woman, wrapped in a dark mantle, seatedupon a stool near a dying fire. Her elbows were placed upon a meantable, and she leaned her head upon her two hands, which were white asivory.

  He could not distinguish her countenance, but a sinister smile passedover the lips of Athos. He was not deceived; it was she whom he sought.

  At this moment a horse neighed. Milady raised her head, saw close to thepanes the pale face of Athos, and screamed.

  Athos, perceiving that she knew him, pushed the window with his knee andhand. The window yielded. The squares were broken to shivers; and Athos,like the spectre of vengeance, leaped into the room.

  Milady rushed to the door and opened it. More pale and menacing thanAthos, d'Artagnan stood on the threshold.

  Milady recoiled, uttering a cry. D'Artagnan, believing she might havemeans of flight and fearing she should escape, drew a pistol from hisbelt; but Athos raised his hand.

  "Put back that weapon, d'Artagnan!" said he; "this woman must be tried,not assassinated. Wait an instant, my friend, and you shall besatisfied. Come in, gentlemen."

  D'Artagnan obeyed; for Athos had the solemn voice and the powerfulgesture of a judge sent by the Lord himself. Behind d'Artagnan enteredPorthos, Aramis, Lord de Winter, and the man in the red cloak.

  The four lackeys guarded the door and the window.

  Milady had sunk into a chair, with her hands extended, as if to conjurethis terrible apparition. Perceiving her brother-in-law, she uttered aterrible cry.

  "What do you want?" screamed Milady.

  "We want," said Athos, "Charlotte Backson, who first was called Comtessede la Fere, and afterwards Milady de Winter, Baroness of Sheffield."

  "That is I! that is I!" murmured Milady, in extreme terror; "what do youwant?"

  "We wish to judge you according to your crime," said Athos; "you shallbe free to defend yourself. Justify yourself if you can. M. d'Artagnan,it is for you to accuse her first."

  D'Artagnan advanced.

  "Before God and before men," said he, "I accuse this woman of havingpoisoned Constance Bonacieux, who died yesterday evening."

  He turned towards Porthos and Aramis.

  "We bear witness to this," said the two Musketeers, with one voice.

  D'Artagnan continued: "Before God and before men, I accuse this woman ofhaving attempted to poison me, in wine which she sent me from Villeroy,with a forged letter, as if that wine came from my friends. Godpreserved me, but a man named Brisemont died in my place."

  "We bear witness to this," said Porthos and Aramis, in the same manneras before.

  "Before God and before men, I accuse this woman of having urged me tothe murder of the Baron de Wardes; but as no one else can attest thetruth of this accusation, I attest it myself. I have done." Andd'Artagnan passed to the other side of the room with Porthos and Aramis.

  "Your turn, my Lord," said Athos.

  The baron came forward.

  "Before God and before men," said he, "I accuse this woman of havingcaused the assassination of the Duke of Buckingham."

  "The Duke of Buckingham assassinated!" cried all present, with onevoice.

  "Yes," said the baron, "assassinated. On receiving the warning letteryou wrote to me, I had this woman arrested, and gave her in charge to aloyal servant. She corrupted this man; she placed the poniard in hishand; she made him kill the duke. And at this moment, perhaps, Felton ispaying with his head for the crime of this fury!"

  A shudder crept through the judges at the revelation of these unknowncrimes.

  "That is not all," resumed Lord de Winter. "My brother, who made you hisheir, died in three hours of a strange disorder which left livid tracesall over the body. My sister, how did your husband die?"

  "Horror!" cried Porthos and Aramis.

  "Assassin of
Buckingham, assassin of Felton, assassin of my brother, Idemand justice upon you, and I swear that if it be not granted to me, Iwill execute it myself."

  And Lord de Winter ranged himself by the side of d'Artagnan, leaving theplace free for another accuser.

  Milady let her head sink between her two hands, and tried to recall herideas, whirling in a mortal vertigo.

  "My turn," said Athos, himself trembling as the lion trembles at thesight of the serpent--"my turn. I married that woman when she was ayoung girl; I married her in opposition to the wishes of all my family;I gave her my wealth, I gave her my name; and one day I discovered thatthis woman was branded--this woman was marked with a FLEUR-DE-LIS on herleft shoulder."

  "Oh," said Milady, raising herself, "I defy you to find any tribunalwhich pronounced that infamous sentence against me. I defy you to findhim who executed it."

  "Silence!" said a hollow voice. "It is for me to reply to that!" And theman in the red cloak came forward in his turn.

  "What man is that? What man is that?" cried Milady, suffocated byterror, her hair loosening itself, and rising above her lividcountenance as if alive.

  All eyes were turned towards this man--for to all except Athos he wasunknown.

  Even Athos looked at him with as much stupefaction as the others, for heknew not how he could in any way find himself mixed up with the horribledrama then unfolded.

  After approaching Milady with a slow and solemn step, so that the tablealone separated them, the unknown took off his mask.

  Milady for some time examined with increasing terror that pale face,framed with black hair and whiskers, the only expression of which wasicy impassibility. Then she suddenly cried, "Oh, no, no!" rising andretreating to the very wall. "No, no! it is an infernal apparition! Itis not he! Help, help!" screamed she, turning towards the wall, as ifshe would tear an opening with her hands.

  "Who are you, then?" cried all the witnesses of this scene.

  "Ask that woman," said the man in the red cloak, "for you may plainlysee she knows me!"

  "The executioner of Lille, the executioner of Lille!" cried Milady, aprey to insensate terror, and clinging with her hands to the wall toavoid falling.

  Every one drew back, and the man in the red cloak remained standingalone in the middle of the room.

  "Oh, grace, grace, pardon!" cried the wretch, falling on her knees.

  The unknown waited for silence, and then resumed, "I told you well thatshe would know me. Yes, I am the executioner of Lille, and this is myhistory."

  All eyes were fixed upon this man, whose words were listened to withanxious attention.

  "That woman was once a young girl, as beautiful as she is today. She wasa nun in the convent of the Benedictines of Templemar. A young priest,with a simple and trustful heart, performed the duties of the church ofthat convent. She undertook his seduction, and succeeded; she would haveseduced a saint.

  "Their vows were sacred and irrevocable. Their connection could not lastlong without ruining both. She prevailed upon him to leave the country;but to leave the country, to fly together, to reach another part ofFrance, where they might live at ease because unknown, money wasnecessary. Neither had any. The priest stole the sacred vases, and soldthem; but as they were preparing to escape together, they were botharrested.

  "Eight days later she had seduced the son of the jailer, and escaped.The young priest was condemned to ten years of imprisonment, and to bebranded. I was executioner of the city of Lille, as this woman has said.I was obliged to brand the guilty one; and he, gentlemen, was mybrother!

  "I then swore that this woman who had ruined him, who was more than hisaccomplice, since she had urged him to the crime, should at least sharehis punishment. I suspected where she was concealed. I followed her, Icaught her, I bound her; and I imprinted the same disgraceful mark uponher that I had imprinted upon my poor brother.

  "The day after my return to Lille, my brother in his turn succeeded inmaking his escape; I was accused of complicity, and was condemned toremain in his place till he should be again a prisoner. My poor brotherwas ignorant of this sentence. He rejoined this woman; they fledtogether into Berry, and there he obtained a little curacy. This womanpassed for his sister.

  "The Lord of the estate on which the chapel of the curacy was situatedsaw this pretend sister, and became enamoured of her--amorous to such adegree that he proposed to marry her. Then she quitted him she hadruined for him she was destined to ruin, and became the Comtesse de laFere--"

  All eyes were turned towards Athos, whose real name that was, and whomade a sign with his head that all was true which the executioner hadsaid.

  "Then," resumed he, "mad, desperate, determined to get rid of anexistence from which she had stolen everything, honor and happiness, mypoor brother returned to Lille, and learning the sentence which hadcondemned me in his place, surrendered himself, and hanged himself thatsame night from the iron bar of the loophole of his prison.

  "To do justice to them who had condemned me, they kept their word. Assoon as the identity of my brother was proved, I was set at liberty.

  "That is the crime of which I accuse her; that is the cause for whichshe was branded."

  "Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Athos, "what is the penalty you demandagainst this woman?"

  "The punishment of death," replied d'Artagnan.

  "My Lord de Winter," continued Athos, "what is the penalty you demandagainst this woman?"

  "The punishment of death," replied Lord de Winter.

  "Messieurs Porthos and Aramis," repeated Athos, "you who are her judges,what is the sentence you pronounce upon this woman?"

  "The punishment of death," replied the Musketeers, in a hollow voice.

  Milady uttered a frightful shriek, and dragged herself along severalpaces upon her knees toward her judges.

  Athos stretched out his hand toward her.

  "Charlotte Backson, Comtesse de la Fere, Milady de Winter," said he,"your crimes have wearied men on earth and God in heaven. If you know aprayer, say it--for you are condemned, and you shall die."

  At these words, which left no hope, Milady raised herself in all herpride, and wished to speak; but her strength failed her. She felt that apowerful and implacable hand seized her by the hair, and dragged heraway as irrevocably as fatality drags humanity. She did not, therefore,even attempt the least resistance, and went out of the cottage.

  Lord de Winter, d'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, went out closebehind her. The lackeys followed their masters, and the chamber was leftsolitary, with its broken window, its open door, and its smoky lampburning sadly on the table.