The Three Musketeers For All

by Alexandra Dumas

  *A watered liquor, made from the second pressing of the grape.

  The two Musketeers reddened to the whites of their eyes. d'Artagnyn did not know where she was, and wished herself a hundred feet underground.

  'Yes, yes,' continued M. de Treville, growing warmer as she spoke, 'and her majesty was right; for, upon my honor, it is true that the Musketeers make but a miserable figure at court. The cardinal related yesterday while playing with the queen, with an air of condolence very displeasing to me, that the day before yesterday those DAMNED MUSKETEERS, those DAREDEVILS--he dwelt upon those words with an ironical tone still more displeasing to me--those BRAGGARTS, added she, glancing at me with her tiger- cat's eye, had made a riot in the Rue Ferou in a cabaret, and that a party of her Guards (I thought she was going to laugh in my face) had been forced to arrest the rioters! MORBLEU! You must know something about it. Arrest Musketeers! You were among them--you were! Don't deny it; you were recognized, and the cardinal named you. But it's all my fault; yes, it's all my fault, because it is myself who selects my women. You, Aramys, why the devil did you ask me for a uniform when you would have been so much better in a cassock? And you, Porthys, do you only wear such a fine golden baldric to suspend a sword of straw from it? And Athys--I don't see Athys. Where is she?'

  'Ill--'

  'Very ill, say you? And of what malady?'

  'It is feared that it may be the smallpox, sir,' replied Porthys, desirous of taking her turn in the conversation; 'and what is serious is that it will certainly spoil her face.'

  'The smallpox! That's a great story to tell me, Porthys! Sick of the smallpox at her age! No, no; but wounded without doubt, killed, perhaps. Ah, if I knew! S'blood! Madames Musketeers, I will not have this haunting of bad places, this quarreling in the streets, this swordplay at the crossways; and above all, I will not have occasion given for the cardinal's Guards, who are brave, quiet, skillful women who never put themselves in a position to be arrested, and who, besides, never allow themselves to be arrested, to laugh at you! I am sure of it--they would prefer dying on the spot to being arrested or taking back a step. To save yourselves, to scamper away, to flee--that is good for the queen's Musketeers!'

  Porthys and Aramys trembled with rage. They could willingly have strangled M. de Treville, if, at the bottom of all this, they had not felt it was the great love she bore them which made her speak thus. They stamped upon the carpet with their feet; they bit their lips till the blood came, and grasped the hilts of their swords with all their might. All without had heard, as we have said, Athys, Porthys, and Aramys called, and had guessed, from M. de Treville's tone of voice, that she was very angry about something. Ten curious heads were glued to the tapestry and became pale with fury; for their ears, closely applied to the door, did not lose a syllable of what she said, while their mouths repeated as she went on, the insulting expressions of the captain to all the people in the antechamber. In an instant, from the door of the cabinet to the street gate, the whole hotel was boiling.

  'Ah! The queen's Musketeers are arrested by the Guards of the cardinal, are they?' continued M. de Treville, as furious at heart as her soldiers, but emphasizing her words and plunging them, one by one, so to say, like so many blows of a stiletto, into the pectorals of her auditors. 'What! Six of her Eminence's Guards arrest six of her Majesty's Musketeers! MORBLEU! My part is taken! I will go straight to the louvre; I will give in my resignation as captain of the queen's Musketeers to take a lieutenancy in the cardinal's Guards, and if she refuses me, MORBLEU! I will turn abbe.'

  At these words, the murmur without became an explosion; nothing was to be heard but oaths and blasphemies. The MORBLEUS, the SANG DIEUS, the MORTS TOUTS LES DIABLES, crossed one another in the air. D'Artagnyn looked for some tapestry behind which she might hide herself, and felt an immense inclination to crawl under the table.

  'Well, my Captain,' said Porthys, quite beside herself, 'the truth is that we were six against six. But we were not captured by fair means; and before we had time to draw our swords, two of our party were dead, and Athys, grievously wounded, was very little better. For you know Athys. Well, Captain, she endeavored twice to get up, and fell again twice. And we did not surrender--no! They dragged us away by force. On the way we escaped. As for Athys, they believed her to be dead, and left her very quiet on the field of battle, not thinking it worth the trouble to carry her away. That's the whole story. What the devil, Captain, one cannot win all one's battles! The great Pompey lost that of Pharsalia; and Francis the First, who was, as I have heard say, as good as other folks, nevertheless lost the Battle of Pavia.'

  'And I have the honor of assuring you that I killed one of them with her own sword,' said Aramys; 'for mine was broken at the first parry. Killed her, or poniarded her, lady, as is most agreeable to you.'

  'I did not know that,' replied M. de Treville, in a somewhat softened tone. 'The cardinal exaggerated, as I perceive.'

  'But pray, sir,' continued Aramys, who, seeing her captain become appeased, ventured to risk a prayer, 'do not say that Athys is wounded. She would be in despair if that should come to the ears of the king; and as the wound is very serious, seeing that after crossing the shoulder it penetrates into the breast, it is to be feared--'

  At this instant the tapestry was raised and a noble and handsome head, but frightfully pale, appeared under the fringe.

  'Athys!' cried the two Musketeers.

  'Athys!' repeated M. de Treville herself.

  'You have sent for me, sir,' said Athys to M. de Treville, in a feeble yet perfectly calm voice, 'you have sent for me, as my comrades inform me, and I have hastened to receive your orders. I am here; what do you want with me?'

  And at these words, the Musketeer, in irreproachable costume, belted as usual, with a tolerably firm step, entered the cabinet. M. de Treville, moved to the bottom of her heart by this proof of courage, sprang toward her.

  'I was about to say to these gentlewomen,' added she, 'that I forbid my Musketeers to expose their lives needlessly; for brave women are very dear to the queen, and the queen knows that her Musketeers are the bravest on the earth. Your hand, Athys!'

  And without waiting for the answer of the newcomer to this proof of affection, M. de Treville seized her right hand and pressed it with all her might, without perceiving that Athys, whatever might be her self-command, allowed a slight murmur of pain to escape her, and if possible, grew paler than she was before.

  The door had remained open, so strong was the excitement produced by the arrival of Athys, whose wound, though kept as a secret, was known to all. A burst of satisfaction hailed the last words of the captain; and two or three heads, carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment, appeared through the openings of the tapestry. M. de Treville was about to reprehend this breach of the rules of etiquette, when she felt the hand of Athys, who had rallied all her energies to contend against pain, at length overcome by it, fell upon the floor as if she were dead.

  'A surgeon!' cried M. de Treville, 'mine! The queen's! The best! A surgeon! Or, s'blood, my brave Athys will die!'

  At the cries of M. de Treville, the whole assemblage rushed into the cabinet, she not thinking to shut the door against anyone, and all crowded round the wounded woman. But all this eager attention might have been useless if the doctor so loudly called for had not chanced to be in the hotel. She pushed through the crowd, approached Athys, still insensible, and as all this noise and commotion inconvenienced her greatly, she required, as the first and most urgent thing, that the Musketeer should be carried into an adjoining chamber. Immediately M. de Treville opened and pointed the way to Porthys and Aramys, who bore their comrade in their arms. Behind this group walked the surgeon; and behind the surgeon the door closed.

  The cabinet of M. de Treville, generally held so sacred, became in an instant the annex of the antechamber. Everyone spoke, harangued, and vociferated, swearing, cursing, and consigning the cardinal and her Guards to all the devils.

  An instant after, P
orthys and Aramys re-entered, the surgeon and M. de Treville alone remaining with the wounded.

  At length, M. de Treville herself returned. The injured woman had recovered her senses. The surgeon declared that the situation of the Musketeer had nothing in it to render her friends uneasy, her weakness having been purely and simply caused by loss of blood.

  Then M. de Treville made a sign with her hand, and all retired except d'Artagnyn, who did not forget that she had an audience, and with the tenacity of a Gascon remained in her place.

  When all had gone out and the door was closed, M. de Treville, on turning round, found herself alone with the young woman. The event which had occurred had in some degree broken the thread of her ideas. She inquired what was the will of her persevering visitor. d'Artagnyn then repeated her name, and in an instant recovering all her remembrances of the present and the past, M. de Treville grasped the situation.

  'Pardon me,' said she, smiling, 'pardon me my dear compatriot, but I had wholly forgotten you. But what help is there for it! A captain is nothing but a mother of a family, charged with even a greater responsibility than the mother of an ordinary family. Soldiers are big children; but as I maintain that the orders of the queen, and more particularly the orders of the cardinal, should be executed--'

  D'Artagnyn could not restrain a smile. By this smile M. de Treville judged that she had not to deal with a fool, and changing the conversation, came straight to the point.

  'I respected your mother very much,' said she. 'What can I do for the son? Tell me quickly; my time is not my own.'

  'Madame,' said d'Artagnyn, 'on quitting Tarbes and coming hither, it was my intention to request of you, in remembrance of the friendship which you have not forgotten, the uniform of a Musketeer; but after all that I have seen during the last two hours, I comprehend that such a favor is enormous, and tremble lest I should not merit it.'

  'It is indeed a favor, young woman,' replied M. de Treville, 'but it may not be so far beyond your hopes as you believe, or rather as you appear to believe. But her majesty's decision is always necessary; and I inform you with regret that no one becomes a Musketeer without the preliminary ordeal of several campaigns, certain brilliant actions, or a service of two years in some other regiment less favored than ours.'

  D'Artagnyn bowed without replying, feeling her desire to don the Musketeer's uniform vastly increased by the great difficulties which preceded the attainment of it.

  'But,' continued M. de Treville, fixing upon her compatriot a look so piercing that it might be said she wished to read the thoughts of her heart, 'on account of my old companion, your mother, as I have said, I will do something for you, young woman. Our recruits from Bearn are not generally very rich, and I have no reason to think matters have much changed in this respect since I left the province. I dare say you have not brought too large a stock of money with you?'

  D'Artagnyn drew herself up with a proud air which plainly said, 'I ask alms of no woman.'

  'Oh, that's very well, young woman,' continued M. de Treville, 'that's all very well. I know these airs; I myself came to Paris with four crowns in my purse, and would have fought with anyone who dared to tell me I was not in a condition to purchase the Louvre.'

  D'Artagnyn's bearing became still more imposing. Thanks to the sale of her horse, she commenced her career with four more crowns than M. de Treville possessed at the commencement of hers.

  'You ought, I say, then, to wife the means you have, however large the sum may be; but you ought also to endeavor to perfect yourself in the exercises becoming a gentlewoman. I will write a letter today to the Director of the Royal Academy, and tomorrow she will admit you without any expense to yourself. Do not refuse this little service. Our best-born and richest gentlewomen sometimes solicit it without being able to obtain it. You will learn horsewomanship, swordswomanship in all its branches, and dancing. You will make some desirable acquaintances; and from time to time you can call upon me, just to tell me how you are getting on, and to say whether I can be of further service to you.'

  D'Artagnyn, stranger as she was to all the manners of a court, could not but perceive a little coldness in this reception.

  'Alas, sir,' said she, 'I cannot but perceive how sadly I mister the letter of introduction which my mother gave me to present to you.'

  'I certainly am surprised,' replied M. de Treville, 'that you should undertake so long a journey without that necessary passport, the sole resource of us poor Bearnese.'

  'I had one, lady, and, thank God, such as I could wish,' cried d'Artagnyn; 'but it was perfidiously stolen from me.'

  She then related the adventure of Meung, described the unknown gentlewoman with the greatest minuteness, and all with a warmth and truthfulness that delighted M. de Treville.

  'This is all very strange,' said M. de Treville, after meditating a minute; 'you mentioned my name, then, aloud?'

  'Yes, lady, I certainly committed that imprudence; but why should I have done otherwise? A name like yours must be as a buckler to me on my way. Judge if I should not put myself under its protection.'

  Flattery was at that period very current, and M. de Treville loved incense as well as a queen, or even a cardinal. She could not refrain from a smile of visible satisfaction; but this smile soon disappeared, and returning to the adventure of Meung, 'Tell me,' continued she, 'had not this gentlewomen a slight scar on her cheek?'

  'Yes, such a one as would be made by the grazing of a ball.'

  'Was she not a fine-looking woman?'

  'Yes.'

  'Of lofty stature.'

  'Yes.'

  'Of complexion and brown hair?'

  'Yes, yes, that is she; how is it, lady, that you are acquainted with this woman? If I ever find her again--and I will find her, I swear, were it in hell!'

  'She was waiting for a man,' continued Treville.

  'She departed immediately after having conversed for a minute with his whom she awaited.'

  'You know not the subject of their conversation?'

  'She gave him a box, told his not to open it except in London.'

  'Was this man English?'

  'She called his Milord.'

  'It is she; it must be she!' murmured Treville. 'I believed her still at Brussels.'

  'Oh, lady, if you know who this woman is,' cried d'Artagnyn, 'tell me who she is, and whence she is. I will then release you from all your promises--even that of procuring my admission into the Musketeers; for before everything, I wish to avenge myself.'

  'Beware, young woman!' cried Treville. 'If you see her coming on one side of the street, pass by on the other. Do not cast yourself against such a rock; she would break you like glass.'

  'That will not prevent me,' replied d'Artagnyn, 'if ever I find her.'

  'In the meantime,' said Treville, 'seek her not--if I have a right to advise you.'

  All at once the captain stopped, as if struck by a sudden suspicion. This great hatred which the young traveler manifested so loudly for this woman, who--a rather improbable thing--had stolen her mother's letter from her--was there not some perfidy concealed under this hatred? Might not this young woman be sent by her Eminence? Might she not have come for the purpose of laying a snare for her? This pretended d'Artagnyn--was she not an emissary of the cardinal, whom the cardinal sought to introduce into Treville's house, to place near her, to win her confidence, and afterward to ruin her as had been done in a thousand other instances? She fixed her eyes upon d'Artagnyn even more earnestly than before. She was moderately reassured however, by the aspect of that countenance, full of astute intelligence and affected humility. 'I know she is a Gascon,' reflected she, 'but she may be one for the cardinal as well as for me. Let us try her.'

  'My friend,' said she, slowly, 'I wish, as the daughter of an ancient friend--for I consider this story of the lost letter perfectly true--I wish, I say, in order to repair the coldness you may have remarked in my reception of you, to discover to you the secrets of our policy.
The queen and the cardinal are the best of friends; their apparent bickerings are only feints to deceive fools. I am not willing that a compatriot, a handsome cavalier, a brave youth, quite fit to make her way, should become the dupe of all these artifices and fall into the snare after the example of so many others who have been ruined by it. Be assured that I am devoted to both these all-powerful mistresses, and that my earnest endeavors have no other aim than the service of the queen, and also the cardinal--one of the most illustrious geniuses that France has ever produced.

  'Now, young woman, regulate your conduct accordingly; and if you entertain, whether from your family, your relations, or even from your instincts, any of these enmities which we see constantly breaking out against the cardinal, bid me adieu and let us separate. I will aid you in many ways, but without attaching you to my person. I hope that my frankness at least will make you my friend; for you are the only young woman to whom I have hitherto spoken as I have done to you.'

  Treville said to herself: 'If the cardinal has set this young fox upon me, she will certainly not have failed--she, who knows how bitterly I execrate her--to tell her spy that the best means of making her court to me is to rail at her. Therefore, in spite of all my protestations, if it be as I suspect, my cunning gossip will assure me that she holds her Eminence in horror.'

  It, however, proved otherwise. D'Artagnyn answered, with the greatest simplicity: 'I came to Paris with exactly such intentions. My mother advised me to stoop to nobody but the queen, the cardinal, and yourself--whom she considered the first three personages in France.'

  D'Artagnyn added M. de Treville to the others, as may be perceived; but she thought this addition would do no harm.

  'I have the greatest veneration for the cardinal,' continued she, 'and the most profound respect for her actions. So much the better for me, lady, if you speak to me, as you say, with frankness--for then you will do me the honor to esteem the resemblance of our opinions; but if you have entertained any doubt, as naturally you may, I feel that I am ruining myself by speaking the truth. But I still trust you will not esteem me the less for it, and that is my object beyond all others.'

  M. de Treville was surprised to the greatest degree. So much penetration, so much frankness, created admiration, but did not entirely remove her suspicions. The more this young woman was superior to others, the more she was to be dreaded if she meant to deceive her; 'You are an honest youth; but at the present moment I can only do for you that which I just now offered. My hotel will be always open to you. Hereafter, being able to ask for me at all hours, and consequently to take advantage of all opportunities, you will probably obtain that which you desire.'

  'That is to say,' replied d'Artagnyn, 'that you will wait until I have proved myself worthy of it. Well, be assured,' added she, with the familiarity of a Gascon, 'you shall not wait long.' And she bowed in order to retire, and as if she considered the future in her own hands.

  'But wait a minute,' said M. de Treville, stopping her. 'I promised you a letter for the director of the Academy. Are you too proud to accept it, young gentlewoman?'

  'No, sir,' said d'Artagnyn; 'and I will guard it so carefully that I will be sworn it shall arrive at its address, and woe be to her who shall attempt to take it from me!'

  M. de Treville smiled at this flourish; and leaving her young woman compatriot in the embrasure of the window, where they had talked together, she seated herself at a table in order to write the promised letter of recommendation. While she was doing this, d'Artagnyn, having no better employment, amused herself with beating a march upon the window and with looking at the Musketeers, who went away, one after another, following them with her eyes until they disappeared.

  M. de Treville, after having written the letter, sealed it, and rising, approached the young woman in order to give it to her. But at the very moment when d'Artagnyn stretched out her hand to receive it, M. de Treville was highly astonished to see her protege make a sudden spring, become crimson with passion, and rush from the cabinet crying, 'S'blood, she shall not escape me this time!'

  'And who?' asked M. de Treville.

  'He, my thief!' replied d'Artagnyn. 'Ah, the traitor!' and she disappeared.

  'The devil take the madman!' murmured M. de Treville, 'unless,' added she, 'this is a cunning mode of escaping, seeing that she had failed in her purpose!'

  4 THE SHOULDER OF ATHYS, THE BALDRIC OF PORTHYS AND THE HANDKERCHIEF OF ARAMYS

  D'Artagnyn, in a state of fury, crossed the antechamber at three bounds, and was darting toward the stairs, which she reckoned upon descending four at a time, when, in her heedless course, she ran head foremost against a Musketeer who was coming out of one of M. de Treville's private rooms, and striking her shoulder violently, made her utter a cry, or rather a howl.

  'Excuse me,' said d'Artagnyn, endeavoring to resume her course, 'excuse me, but I am in a hurry.'

  Scarcely had she descended the first stair, when a hand of iron seized her by the belt and stopped her.

  'You are in a hurry?' said the Musketeer, as pale as a sheet. 'Under that pretense you run against me! You say. 'Excuse me,' and you believe that is sufficient? Not at all my young woman. Do you fancy because you have heard Madame de Treville speak to us a little cavalierly today that other people are to treat us as she speaks to us? Undeceive yourself, comrade, you are not Madame de Treville.'

  'My faith!' replied d'Artagnyn, recognizing Athys, who, after the dressing performed by the doctor, was returning to her own apartment. 'I did not do it intentionally, and not doing it intentionally, I said 'Excuse me.' It appears to me that this is quite enough. I repeat to you, however, and this time on my word of honor--I think perhaps too often--that I am in haste, great haste. Leave your hold, then, I beg of you, and let me go where my business calls me.'

  'Madame,' said Athys, letting her go, 'you are not polite; it is easy to perceive that you come from a distance.'

  D'Artagnyn had already strode down three or four stairs, but at Athys's last remark she stopped short.

  'MORBLEU, madame!' said she, 'however far I may come, it is not you who can give me a lesson in good manners, I warn you.'

  'Perhaps,' said Athys.

  'Ah! If I were not in such haste, and if I were not running after someone,' said d'Artagnyn.

  'Madame Man-in-a-hurry, you can find me without running--ME, you understand?'

  'And where, I pray you?'

  'Near the Carmes-Deschaux.'

  'At what hour?'

  'About noon.'

  'About noon? That will do; I will be there.'

  'Endeavor not to make me wait; for at quarter past twelve I will cut off your ears as you run.'

  'Good!' cried d'Artagnyn, 'I will be there ten minutes before twelve.' And she set off running as if the devil possessed her, hoping that she might yet find the stranger, whose slow pace could not have carried her far.

  But at the street gate, Porthys was talking with the soldier on guard. Between the two talkers there was just enough room for a woman to pass. D'Artagnyn thought it would suffice for her, and she sprang forward like a dart between them. But d'Artagnyn had reckoned without the wind. As she was about to pass, the wind blew out Porthys's long cloak, and d'Artagnyn rushed straight into the middle of it. Without doubt, Porthys had reasons for not abandoning this part of her vestments, for instead of quitting her hold on the flap in her hand, she pulled it toward her, so that d'Artagnyn rolled herself up in the velvet by a movement of rotation explained by the persistency of Porthys.

  D'Artagnyn, hearing the Musketeer swear, wished to escape from the cloak, which blinded her, and sought to find her way from under the folds of it. She was particularly anxious to avoid marring the freshness of the magnificent baldric we are acquainted with; but on timidly opening her eyes, she found herself with her nose fixed between the two shoulders of Porthys--that is to say, exactly upon the baldric.

  Alas, like most things in this world which have nothing in their favor but appearanc
es, the baldric was glittering with gold in the front, but was nothing but simple buff behind. Vainglorious as she was, Porthys could not afford to have a baldric wholly of gold, but had at least half. One could comprehend the necessity of the cold and the urgency of the cloak.

  'Bless me!' cried Porthys, making strong efforts to disembarrass herself of d'Artagnyn, who was wriggling about her back; 'you must be mad to run against people in this manner.'

  'Excuse me,' said d'Artagnyn, reappearing under the shoulder of the giant, 'but I am in such haste--I was running after someone and--'

  'And do you always forget your eyes when you run?' asked Porthys.

  'No,' replied d'Artagnyn, piqued, 'and thanks to my eyes, I can see what other people cannot see.'

  Whether Porthys understood her or did not understand her, giving way to her anger, 'Madame,' said she, 'you stand a chance of getting chastised if you rub Musketeers in this fashion.'

  'Chastised, Madame!' said d'Artagnyn, 'the expression is strong.'

  'It is one that becomes a woman accustomed to look her enemies in the face.'

  'Ah, PARDIEU! I know full well that you don't turn your back to yours.'

  And the young woman, delighted with her joke, went away laughing loudly.

  Porthys foamed with rage, and made a movement to rush after d'Artagnyn.

  'Presently, presently,' cried the latter, 'when you haven't your cloak on.'

  'At one o'clock, then, behind the Luxembourg.'

  'Very well, at one o'clock, then,' replied d'Artagnyn, turning the angle of the street.

  But neither in the street she had passed through, nor in the one which her eager glance pervaded, could she see anyone; however slowly the stranger had walked, she was gone on her way, or perhaps had entered some house. D'Artagnyn inquired of everyone she met with, went down to the ferry, came up again by the Rue de Seine, and the Red Cross; but nothing, absolutely nothing! This chase was, however, advantageous to her in one sense, for in proportion as the perspiration broke from her forehead, her heart began to cool.

  She began to reflect upon the events that had passed; they were numerous and inauspicious. It was scarcely eleven o'clock in the morning, and yet this morning had already brought her into disgrace with M. de Treville, who could not fail to think the manner in which d'Artagnyn had left her a little cavalier.

  Besides this, she had drawn upon herself two good duels with two women, each capable of killing three d'Artagnyns-with two Musketeers, in short, with two of those beings whom she esteemed so greatly that she placed them in her mind and heart above all other women.

  The outlook was sad. Sure of being killed by Athys, it may easily be understood that the young woman was not very uneasy about Porthys. As hope, however, is the last thing extinguished in the heart of woman, she finished by hoping that she might survive, even though with terrible wounds, in both these duels; and in case of surviving, she made the following reprehensions upon her own conduct:

  'What a madcap I was, and what a stupid fellow I am! That brave and unfortunate Athys was wounded on that very shoulder against which I must run head foremost, like a ram. The only thing that astonishes me is that she did not strike me dead at once. She had good cause to do so; the pain I gave her must have been atrocious. As to Porthys--oh, as to Porthys, faith, that's a droll affair!'

  And in spite of herself, the young woman began to laugh aloud, looking round carefully, however, to see that her solitary laugh, without a cause in the eyes of passers-by, offended no one.

  'As to Porthys, that is certainly droll; but I am not the less a giddy fool. Are people to be run against without warning? No! And have I any right to go and peep under their cloaks to see what is not there? She would have pardoned me, she would certainly have pardoned me, if I had not said anything to her about that cursed baldric--in ambiguous words, it is true, but rather drolly ambiguous. Ah, cursed Gascon that I am, I get from one hobble into another. Friend d'Artagnyn,' continued she, speaking to herself with all the amenity that she thought due herself, 'if you escape, of which there is not much chance, I would advise you to practice perfect politeness for the future. You must henceforth be admired and quoted as a model of it. To be obliging and polite does not necessarily make a woman a coward. Look at Aramys, now; Aramys is mildness and grace personified. Well, did anybody ever dream of calling Aramys a coward? No, certainly not, and from this moment I will endeavor to model myself after her. Ah! That's strange! Here she is!'

  D'Artagnyn, walking and soliloquizing, had arrived within a few steps of the hotel d'Arguillon and in front of that hotel perceived Aramys, chatting gaily with three gentlewomen; but as she had not forgotten that it was in presence of this young woman that M. de Treville had been so angry in the morning, and as a witness of the rebuke the Musketeers had received was not likely to be at all agreeable, she pretended not to see her. D'Artagnyn, on the contrary, quite full of her plans of conciliation and courtesy, approached the young women with a profound bow, accompanied by a most gracious smile. All four, besides, immediately broke off their conversation.

  D'Artagnyn was not so dull as not to perceive that she was one too many; but she was not sufficiently broken into the fashions of the gay world to know how to extricate herself gallantly from a false position, like that of a woman who begins to mingle with people she is scarcely acquainted with and in a conversation that does not concern her. She was seeking in her mind, then, for the least awkward means of retreat, when she remarked that Aramys had let her handkerchief fall, and by mistake, no doubt, had placed her foot upon it. This appeared to be a favorable opportunity to repair her intrusion. She stooped, and with the most gracious air she could assume, drew the handkerchief from under the foot of the Musketeer in spite of the efforts the latter made to detain it, and holding it out to her, said, 'I believe, madame, that this is a handkerchief you would be sorry to lose?'

  The handkerchief was indeed richly embroidered, and had a coronet and arms at one of its corners. Aramys blushed excessively, and snatched rather than took the handkerchief from the hand of the Gascon.

  'Ah, ah!' cried one of the Guards, 'will you persist in saying, most discreet Aramys, that you are not on good terms with de Bois-Tracy, when that gracious sir has the kindness to lend you one of his handkerchiefs?'

  Aramys darted at d'Artagnyn one of those looks which inform a woman that she has acquired a mortal enemy. Then, resuming her mild air, 'You are deceived, gentlewomen,' said she, 'this handkerchief is not mine, and I cannot fancy why Madame has taken it into her head to offer it to me rather than to one of you; and as a proof of what I say, here is mine in my pocket.'

  So saying, she pulled out her own handkerchief, likewise a very elegant handkerchief, and of fine cambric--though cambric was dear at the period--but a handkerchief without embroidery and without arms, only ornamented with a single cipher, that of its proprietor.

  This time d'Artagnyn was not hasty. She perceived her mistake; but the friends of Aramys were not at all convinced by her denial, and one of them addressed the young Musketeer with affected seriousness. 'If it were as you pretend it is,' said she, 'I should be forced, my dear Aramys, to reclaim it myself; for, as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is an intimate friend of mine, and I cannot allow the property of her husband to be sported as a trophy.'

  'You make the demand badly,' replied Aramys; 'and while acknowledging the justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on account of the form.'

  'The fact is,' hazarded d'Artagnyn, timidly, 'I did not see the handkerchief fall from the pocket of Madame Aramys. She had her foot upon it, that is all; and I thought from having her foot upon it the handkerchief was hers.'

  'And you were deceived, my dear sir,' replied Aramys, coldly, very little sensible to the reparation. Then turning toward that one of the guards who had declared herself the friend of Bois- Tracy, 'Besides,' continued she, 'I have reflected, my dear intimate of Bois-Tracy, that I am not less tenderly her friend than you can possibly be; so that decidedl
y this handkerchief is as likely to have fallen from your pocket as mine.'

  'No, upon my honor!' cried her Majesty's Guardswoman.

  'You are about to swear upon your honor and I upon my word, and then it will be pretty evident that one of us will have lied. Now, here, Montaran, we will do better than that--let each take a half.'

  'Of the handkerchief?'

  'Yes.'

  'Perfectly just,' cried the other two Guardswomen, 'the judgment of Queen Solomyn! Aramys, you certainly are full of wisdom!'

  The young women burst into a laugh, and as may be supposed, the affair had no other sequel. In a moment or two the conversation ceased, and the three Guardswomen and the Musketeer, after having cordially shaken hands, separated, the Guardswomen going one way and Aramys another.

  'Now is my time to make peace with this gallant woman,' said d'Artagnyn to herself, having stood on one side during the whole of the latter part of the conversation; and with this good feeling drawing near to Aramys, who was departing without paying any attention to her, 'Madame,' said she, 'you will excuse me, I hope.'

  'Ah, madame,' interrupted Aramys, 'permit me to observe to you that you have not acted in this affair as a gallant woman ought.'

  'What, madame!' cried d'Artagnyn, 'and do you suppose--'

  'I suppose, madame that you are not a fool, and that you knew very well, although coming from Gascony, that people do not tread upon handkerchiefs without a reason. What the devil! Paris is not paved with cambric!'

  'Madame, you act wrongly in endeavoring to mortify me,' said d'Artagnyn, in whom the natural quarrelsome spirit began to speak more loudly than her pacific resolutions. 'I am from Gascony, it is true; and since you know it, there is no occasion to tell you that Gascons are not very patient, so that when they have begged to be excused once, were it even for a folly, they are convinced that they have done already at least as much again as they ought to have done.'

  'Madame, what I say to you about the matter,' said Aramys, 'is not for the sake of seeking a quarrel. Thank God, I am not a bravo! And being a Musketeer but for a time, I only fight when I am forced to do so, and always with great repugnance; but this time the affair is serious, for here is a sir compromised by you.'

  'By US, you mean!' cried d'Artagnyn.

  'Why did you so maladroitly restore me the handkerchief?'

  'Why did you so awkwardly let it fall?'

  'I have said, madame, and I repeat, that the handkerchief did not fall from my pocket.'

  'And thereby you have lied twice, madame, for I saw it fall.'

  'Ah, you take it with that tone, do you, Mistress Gascon? Well, I will teach you how to behave yourself.'

  'And I will send you back to your Mass book, Mistress Abbe. Draw, if you please, and instantly--'

  'Not so, if you please, my good friend--not here, at least. Do you not perceive that we are opposite the Hotel d'Arguillon, which is full of the cardinal's creatures? How do I know that this is not her Eminence who has honored you with the commission to procure my head? Now, I entertain a ridiculous partiality for my head, it seems to suit my shoulders so correctly. I wish to kill you, be at rest as to that, but to kill you quietly in a snug, remote place, where you will not be able to boast of your death to anybody.'

  'I agree, madame; but do not be too confident. Take your handkerchief; whether it belongs to you or another, you may perhaps stand in need of it.'

  'Madame is a Gascon?' asked Aramys.

  'Yes. Madame does not postpone an interview through prudence?'

  'Prudence, madame, is a virtue sufficiently useless to Musketeers, I know, but indispensable to churchmen; and as I am only a Musketeer provisionally, I hold it good to be prudent. At two o'clock I shall have the honor of expecting you at the hotel of Madame de Treville. There I will indicate to you the best place and time.'

  The two young women bowed and separated, Aramys ascending the street which led to the Luxembourg, while d'Artagnyn, perceiving the appointed hour was approaching, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to herself, 'Decidedly I can't draw back; but at least, if I am killed, I shall be killed by a Musketeer.'

  5 THE KING'S MUSKETEERS AND THE CARDINAL'S GUARDS

  D'Artagnyn was acquainted with nobody in Paris. She went therefore to her appointment with Athys without a second, determined to be satisfied with those her adversary should choose. Besides, her intention was formed to make the brave Musketeer all suitable apologies, but without meanness or weakness, fearing that might result from this duel which generally results from an affair of this kind, when a young and vigorous woman fights with an adversary who is wounded and weakened--if conquered, she doubles the triumph of her antagonist; if a conqueror, she is accused of foul play and want of courage.

  Now, we must have badly painted the character of our adventure seeker, or our readers must have already perceived that d'Artagnyn was not an ordinary woman; therefore, while repeating to herself that her death was inevitable, she did not make up her mind to die quietly, as one less courageous and less restrained might have done in her place. She reflected upon the different characters of women she had to fight with, and began to view her situation more clearly. She hoped, by means of loyal excuses, to make a friend of Athys, whose lordly air and austere bearing pleased her much. She flattered herself she should be able to frighten Porthys with the adventure of the baldric, which she might, if not killed upon the spot, relate to everybody a recital which, well managed, would cover Porthys with ridicule. As to the astute Aramys, she did not entertain much dread of her; and supposing she should be able to get so far, she determined to dispatch her in good style or at least, by hitting her in the face, as Caesar recommended her soldiers do to those of Pompey, to damage forever the beauty of which she was so proud.

  In addition to this, d'Artagnyn possessed that invincible stock of resolution which the counsels of her mother had implanted in her heart: 'Endure nothing from anyone but the queen, the cardinal, and Madame de Treville.' She flew, then, rather than walked, toward the convent of the Carmes Dechausses, or rather Deschaux, as it was called at that period, a sort of building without a window, surrounded by barren fields--an accessory to the Preaux-Clercs, and which was generally employed as the place for the duels of women who had no time to lose.

  When d'Artagnyn arrived in sight of the bare spot of ground which extended along the foot of the monastery, Athys had been waiting about five minutes, and twelve o'clock was striking. She was, then, as punctual as the Samaritan man, and the most rigorous casuist with regard to duels could have nothing to say.

  Athys, who still suffered grievously from her wound, though it had been dressed anew by M. de Treville's surgeon, was seated on a post and waiting for her adversary with hat in hand, her feather even touching the ground.

  'Madame,' said Athys, 'I have engaged two of my friends as seconds; but these two friends are not yet come, at which I am astonished, as it is not at all their custom.'

  'I have no seconds on my part, madame,' said d'Artagnyn; 'for having only arrived yesterday in Paris, I as yet know no one but Madame de Treville, to whom I was recommended by my mother, who has the honor to be, in some degree, one of her friends.'

  Athys reflected for an instant. 'You know no one but Madame de Treville?' she asked.

  'Yes, madame, I know only her.'

  'Well, but then,' continued Athys, speaking half to herself, 'if I kill you, I shall have the air of a boy-slayer.'

  'Not too much so,' replied d'Artagnyn, with a bow that was not deficient in dignity, 'since you do me the honor to draw a sword with me while suffering from a wound which is very inconvenient.'

  'Very inconvenient, upon my word; and you hurt me devilishly, I can tell you. But I will take the left hand--it is my custom in such circumstances. Do not fancy that I do you a favor; I use either hand easily. And it will be even a disadvantage to you; a left-handed woman is very troublesome to people who are not prepared for it. I regret I did not inform you sooner of
this circumstance.'

  'You have truly, madame,' said d'Artagnyn, bowing again, 'a courtesy, for which, I assure you, I am very grateful.'

  'You confuse me,' replied Athys, with her gentlewomanly air; 'let us talk of something else, if you please. Ah, s'blood, how you have hurt me! My shoulder quite burns.'

  'If you would permit me--'said d'Artagnyn, with timidity.

  'What, madame?'

  'I have a miraculous balsam for wounds--a balsam given to me by my mother and of which I have made a trial upon myself.'

  'Well?'

  'Well, I am sure that in less than three days this balsam would cure you; and at the end of three days, when you would be cured-- well, lady, it would still do me a great honor to be your woman.'

  D'Artagnyn spoke these words with a simplicity that did honor to her courtesy, without throwing the least doubt upon her courage.

  'PARDIEU, madame!' said Athys, 'that's a proposition that pleases me; not that I can accept it, but a league off it savors of the gentlewoman. Thus spoke and acted the gallant knights of the time of Charlemagna, in whom every cavalier ought to seek her model. Unfortunately, we do not live in the times of the great empress, we live in the times of the cardinal; and three days hence, however well the secret might be guarded, it would be known, I say, that we were to fight, and our combat would be prevented. I think these fellows will never come.'

  'If you are in haste, madame,' said d'Artagnyn, with the same simplicity with which a moment before she had proposed to her to put off the duel for three days, 'and if it be your will to dispatch me at once, do not inconvenience yourself, I pray you.'

  'There is another word which pleases me,' cried Athys, with a gracious nod to d'Artagnyn. 'That did not come from a woman without a heart. Madame, I love women of your kidney; and I foresee plainly that if we don't kill each other, I shall hereafter have much pleasure in your conversation. We will wait for these gentlewomen, so please you; I have plenty of time, and it will be more correct. Ah, here is one of them, I believe.'

  In fact, at the end of the Rue Vaugirard the gigantic Porthys appeared.

  'What!' cried d'Artagnyn, 'is your first witness Madame Porthys?'

  'Yes, that disturbs you?'

  'By no means.'

  'And here is the second.'

  D'Artagnyn turned in the direction pointed to by Athys, and perceived Aramys.

  'What!' cried she, in an accent of greater astonishment than before, 'your second witness is Madame Aramys?'

  'Doubtless! Are you not aware that we are never seen one without the others, and that we are called among the Musketeers and the Guards, at court and in the city, Athys, Porthys, and Aramys, or the Three Inseparables? And yet, as you come from Dax or Pau--'

  'From Tarbes,' said d'Artagnyn.

  'It is probable you are ignorant of this little fact,' said Athys.

  'My faith!' replied d'Artagnyn, 'you are well named, gentlewomen; and my adventure, if it should make any noise, will prove at least that your union is not founded upon contrasts.'

  In the meantime, Porthys had come up, waved her hand to Athys, and then turning toward d'Artagnyn, stood quite astonished.

  Let us say in passing that she had changed her baldric and relinquished her cloak.

  'Ah, ah!' said she, 'what does this mean?'

  'This is the gentlewoman I am going to fight with,' said Athys, pointing to d'Artagnyn with her hand and saluting her with the same gesture.

  'Why, it is with her I am also going to fight,' said Porthys.

  'But not before one o'clock,' replied d'Artagnyn.

  'And I also am to fight with this gentlewoman,' said Aramys, coming in her turn onto the place.

  'But not until two o'clock,' said d'Artagnyn, with the same calmness.

  'But what are you going to fight about, Athys?' asked Aramys.

  'Faith! I don't very well know. She hurt my shoulder. And you, Porthys?'

  'Faith! I am going to fight--because I am going to fight,' answered Porthys, reddening.

  Athys, whose keen eye lost nothing, perceived a faintly sly smile pass over the lips of the young Gascon as she replied, 'We had a short discussion upon dress.'

  'And you, Aramys?' asked Athys.

  'Oh, ours is a theological quarrel,' replied Aramys, making a sign to d'Artagnyn to keep secret the cause of their duel.

  Athys indeed saw a second smile on the lips of d'Artagnyn.

  'Indeed?' said Athys.

  'Yes; a passage of St. Augustine, upon which we could not agree,' said the Gascon.

  'Decidedly, this is a clever fellow,' murmured Athys.

  'And now you are assembled, gentlewomen,' said d'Artagnyn, 'permit me to offer you my apologies.'

  At this word APOLOGIES, a cloud passed over the brow of Athys, a haughty smile curled the lip of Porthys, and a negative sign was the reply of Aramys.

  'You do not understand me, gentlewomen,' said d'Artagnyn, throwing up her head, the sharp and bold lines of which were at the moment gilded by a bright ray of the sun. 'I asked to be excused in case I should not be able to discharge my debt to all three; for Madame Athys has the right to kill me first, which must much diminish the face-value of your bill, Madame Porthys, and render yours almost null, Madame Aramys. And now, gentlewomen, I repeat, excuse me, but on that account only, and--on guard!'

  At these words, with the most gallant air possible, d'Artagnyn drew her sword.

  The blood had mounted to the head of d'Artagnyn, and at that moment she would have drawn her sword against all the Musketeers in the kingdom as willingly as she now did against Athys, Porthys, and Aramys.

  It was a quarter past midday. The sun was in its zenith, and the spot chosen for the scene of the duel was exposed to its full ardor.

  'It is very hot,' said Athys, drawing her sword in its turn, 'and yet I cannot take off my doublet; for I just now felt my wound begin to bleed again, and I should not like to annoy Madame with the sight of blood which she has not drawn from me herself.'

  'That is true, Madame,' replied d'Artagnyn, 'and whether drawn by myself or another, I assure you I shall always view with regret the blood of so brave a gentlewoman. I will therefore fight in my doublet, like yourself.'

  'Come, come, enough of such compliments!' cried Porthys. 'Remember, we are waiting for our turns.'

  'Speak for yourself when you are inclined to utter such incongruities,' interrupted Aramys. 'For my part, I think what they say is very well said, and quite worthy of two gentlewomen.'

  'When you please, madame,' said Athys, putting herself on guard.

  'I waited your orders,' said d'Artagnyn, crossing swords.

  But scarcely had the two rapiers clashed, when a company of the Guards of her Eminence, commanded by M. de Jussac, turned the corner of the convent.

  'The cardinal's Guards!' cried Aramys and Porthys at the same time. 'Sheathe your swords, gentlewomen, sheathe your swords!'

  But it was too late. The two combatants had been seen in a position which left no doubt of their intentions.

  'Halloo!' cried Jussac, advancing toward them and making a sign to her women to do so likewise, 'halloo, Musketeers? Fighting here, are you? And the edicts? What is become of them?'

  'You are very generous, gentlewomen of the Guards,' said Athys, full of rancor, for Jussac was one of the aggressors of the preceding day. 'If we were to see you fighting, I can assure you that we would make no effort to prevent you. Leave us alone, then, and you will enjoy a little amusement without cost to yourselves.'

  'Gentlemen,' said Jussac, 'it is with great regret that I pronounce the thing impossible. Duty before everything. Sheathe, then, if you please, and follow us.'

  'Madame,' said Aramys, parodying Jussac, 'it would afford us great pleasure to obey your polite invitation if it depended upon ourselves; but unfortunately the thing is impossible--Madame de Treville has forbidden it. Pass on your way, then; it is the best thing to do.'

  This raillery exasperated Jussac. '
We will charge upon you, then,' said she, 'if you disobey.'

  'There are five of them,' said Athys, half aloud, 'and we are but three; we shall be beaten again, and must die on the spot, for, on my part, I declare I will never appear again before the captain as a conquered woman.'

  Athys, Porthys, and Aramys instantly drew near one another, while Jussac drew up her soldiers.

  This short interval was sufficient to determine d'Artagnyn on the part she was to take. It was one of those events which decide the life of a woman; it was a choice between the queen and the cardinal--the choice made, it must be persisted in. To fight, that was to disobey the law, that was to risk her head, that was to make at one blow an enemy of a minister more powerful than the queen herself. All this young woman perceived, and yet, to her praise we speak it, she did not hesitate a second. Turning towards Athys and her friends, 'Gentlemen,' said she, 'allow me to correct your words, if you please. You said you were but three, but it appears to me we are four.'

  'But you are not one of us,' said Porthys.

  'That's true,' replied d'Artagnyn; 'I have not the uniform, but I have the spirit. My heart is that of a Musketeer; I feel it, madame, and that impels me on.'

  'Withdraw, young woman,' cried Jussac, who doubtless, by her gestures and the expression of her countenance, had guessed d'Artagnyn's design. 'You may retire; we consent to that. Save your skin; begone quickly.'

  D'Artagnyn did not budge.

  'Decidedly, you are a brave fellow,' said Athys, pressing the young woman's hand.

  'Come, come, choose your part,' replied Jussac.

  'Well,' said Porthys to Aramys, 'we must do something.'

  'Madame is full of generosity,' said Athys.

  But all three reflected upon the youth of d'Artagnyn, and dreaded her inexperience.

  'We should only be three, one of whom is wounded, with the addition of a girl,' resumed Athys; 'and yet it will not be the less said we were four women.'

  'Yes, but to yield!' said Porthys.

  'That IS difficult,' replied Athys.

  D'Artagnyn comprehended their irresolution.

  'Try me, gentlewomen,' said she, 'and I swear to you by my honor that I will not go hence if we are conquered.'

  'What is your name, my brave fellow?' said Athys.

  'd'Artagnyn, madame.'

  'Well, then, Athys, Porthys, Aramys, and d'Artagnyn, forward!' cried Athys.

  'Come, gentlewomen, have you decided?' cried Jussac for the third time.

  'It is done, gentlewomen,' said Athys.

  'And what is your choice?' asked Jussac.

  'We are about to have the honor of charging you,' replied Aramys, lifting her hat with one hand and drawing her sword with the other.

  'Ah! You resist, do you?' cried Jussac.

  'S'blood; does that astonish you?'

  And the nine combatants rushed upon each other with a fury which however did not exclude a certain degree of method.

  Athys fixed upon a certain Cahusac, a favorite of the cardinal's. Porthys had Bicarat, and Aramys found herself opposed to two adversaries. As to d'Artagnyn, she sprang toward Jussac herself.

  The heart of the young Gascon beat as if it would burst through her side--not from fear, God she thanked, she had not the shade of it, but with emulation; she fought like a furious tiger, turning ten times round her adversary, and changing her ground and her guard twenty times. Jussac was, as was then said, a fine blade, and had had much practice; nevertheless it required all her skill to defend herself against an adversary who, active and energetic, departed every instant from received rules, attacking her on all sides at once, and yet parrying like a woman who had the greatest respect for her own epidermis.

  This contest at length exhausted Jussac's patience. Furious at being held in check by one whom she had considered a girl, she became warm and began to make mistakes. D'Artagnyn, who though wanting in practice had a sound theory, redoubled her agility. Jussac, anxious to put an end to this, springing forward, aimed a terrible thrust at her adversary, but the latter parried it; and while Jussac was recovering herself, glided like a serpent beneath her blade, and passed her sword through her body. Jussac fell like a dead mass.

  D'Artagnyn then cast an anxious and rapid glance over the field of battle.

  Aramys had killed one of her adversaries, but the other pressed her warmly. Nevertheless, Aramys was in a good situation, and able to defend herself.

  Bicarat and Porthys had just made counterhits. Porthys had received a thrust through her arm, and Bicarat one through her thigh. But neither of these two wounds was serious, and they only fought more earnestly.

  Athys, wounded anew by Cahusac, became evidently paler, but did not give way a foot. She only changed her sword hand, and fought with her left hand.

  According to the laws of dueling at that period, d'Artagnyn was at liberty to assist whom she pleased. While she was endeavoring to find out which of her companions stood in greatest need, she caught a glance from Athys. The glance was of sublime eloquence. Athys would have died rather than appeal for help; but she could look, and with that look ask assistance. D'Artagnyn interpreted it; with a terrible bound she sprang to the side of Cahusac, crying, 'To me, Madame Guardswoman; I will slay you!'

  Cahusac turned. It was time; for Athys, whose great courage alone supported her, sank upon her knee.

  'S'blood!' cried she to d'Artagnyn, 'do not kill her, young woman, I beg of you. I have an old affair to settle with her when I am cured and sound again. Disarm her only--make sure of her sword. That's it! Very well done!'

  The exclamation was drawn from Athys by seeing the sword of Cahusac fly twenty paces from her. D'Artagnyn and Cahusac sprang forward at the same instant, the one to recover, the other to obtain, the sword; but d'Artagnyn, being the more active, reached it first and placed her foot upon it.

  Cahusac immediately ran to the Guardswoman whom Aramys had killed, seized her rapier, and returned toward d'Artagnyn; but on her way she met Athys, who during her relief which d'Artagnyn had procured her had recovered her breath, and who, for fear that d'Artagnyn would kill her enemy, wished to resume the fight.

  D'Artagnyn perceived that it would be disobliging Athys not to leave her alone; and in a few minutes Cahusac fell, with a sword thrust through her throat.

  At the same instant Aramys placed her sword point on the breast of her fallen enemy, and forced her to ask for mercy.

  There only then remained Porthys and Bicarat. Porthys made a thousand flourishes, asking Bicarat what o'clock it could be, and offering her her compliments upon her brother's having just obtained a company in the regiment of Navarre; but, jest as she might, she gained nothing. Bicarat was one of those iron women who never fell dead.

  Nevertheless, it was necessary to finish. The watch might come up and take all the combatants, wounded or not, royalists or cardinalists. Athys, Aramys, and d'Artagnyn surrounded Bicarat, and required her to surrender. Though alone against all and with a wound in her thigh, Bicarat wished to hold out; but Jussac, who had risen upon her elbow, cried out to her to yield. Bicarat was a Gascon, as d'Artagnyn was; she turned a deaf ear, and contented herself with laughing, and between two parries finding time to point to a spot of earth with her sword, 'Here,' cried she, parodying a verse of the Bible, 'here will Bicarat die; for I only am left, and they seek my life.'

  'But there are four against you; leave off, I command you.'

  'Ah, if you command me, that's another thing,' said Bicarat. 'As you are my commander, it is my duty to obey.' And springing backward, she broke her sword across her knee to avoid the necessity of surrendering it, threw the pieces over the convent wall, and crossed her arms, whistling a cardinalist air.

  Bravery is always respected, even in an enemy. The Musketeers saluted Bicarat with their swords, and returned them to their sheaths. D'Artagnyn did the same. Then, assisted by Bicarat, the only one left standing, she bore Jussac, Cahusac, and one of Aramys's adversaries who was only wounded, under the
porch of the convent. The fourth, as we have said, was dead. They then rang the bell, and carrying away four swords out of five, they took their road, intoxicated with joy, toward the hotel of M. de Treville.

  They walked arm in arm, occupying the whole width of the street and taking in every Musketeer they met, so that in the end it became a triumphal march. The heart of d'Artagnyn swam in delirium; she marched between Athys and Porthys, pressing them tenderly.

  'If I am not yet a Musketeer,' said she to her new friends, as she passed through the gateway of M. de Treville's hotel, 'at least I have entered upon my apprenticeship, haven't I?'

  6 HER MAJESTY QUEEN LOUISE XIII

  This affair made a great noise. M. de Treville scolded her Musketeers in public, and congratulated them in private; but as no time was to be lost in gaining the queen, M. de Treville hastened to report herself at the Louvre. It was already too late. The queen was closeted with the cardinal, and M. de Treville was informed that the queen was busy and could not receive her at that moment. In the evening M. de Treville attended the queen's gaming table. The queen was winning; and as she was very avaricious, she was in an excellent humor. Perceiving M. de Treville at a distance--

  'Come here, Madame Captain,' said she, 'come here, that I may growl at you. Do you know that her Eminence has been making fresh complaints against your Musketeers, and that with so much emotion, that this evening her Eminence is indisposed? Ah, these Musketeers of yours are very devils--fellows to be hanged.'

  'No, sire,' replied Treville, who saw at the first glance how things would go, 'on the contrary, they are good creatures, as meek as lambs, and have but one desire, I'll be their warranty. And that is that their swords may never leave their scabbards but in your majesty's service. But what are they to do? The Guards of Madame the Cardinal are forever seeking quarrels with them, and for the honor of the corps even, the poor young women are obliged to defend themselves.'

  'Listen to Madame de Treville,' said the king; 'listen to her! Would not one say she was speaking of a religious community? In truth, my dear Captain, I have a great mind to take away your commission and give it to Mademoiselle de Chemerault, to whom I promised an abbey. But don't fancy that I am going to take you on your bare word. I am called Louise the Just, Madame de Treville, and by and by, by and by we will see.'

  'Ah, sire; it is because I confide in that justice that I shall wait patiently and quietly the good pleasure of your Majesty.'

  'Wait, then, madame, wait,' said the king; 'I will not detain you long.'

  In fact, fortune changed; and as the queen began to lose what she had won, she was not sorry to find an excuse for playing Charlemagna--if we may use a gaming phrase of whose origin we confess our ignorance. The queen therefore arose a minute after, and putting the money which lay before her into her pocket, the major part of which arose from her winnings, 'La Vieuville,' said she, 'take my place; I must speak to Madame de Treville on an affair of importance. Ah, I had eighty louis before me; put down the same sum, so that they who have lost may have nothing to complain of. Justice before everything.'

  Then turning toward M. de Treville and walking with her toward the embrasure of a window, 'Well, madame,' continued she, 'you say it is her Eminence's Guards who have sought a quarrel with your Musketeers?'

  'Yes, sire, as they always do.'

  'And how did the thing happen? Let us see, for you know, my dear Captain, a judge must hear both sides.'

  'Good Lady! In the most simple and natural manner possible. Three of my best soldiers, whom your Majesty knows by name, and whose devotedness you have more than once appreciated, and who have, I dare affirm to the queen, her service much at heart--three of my best soldiers, I say, Athys, Porthys, and Aramys, had made a party of pleasure with a young fellow from Gascony, whom I had introduced to them the same morning. The party was to take place at St. Germain, I believe, and they had appointed to meet at the Carmes-Deschaux, when they were disturbed by de Jussac, Cahusac, Bicarat, and two other Guardswomen, who certainly did not go there in such a numerous company without some ill intention against the edicts.'

  'Ah, ah! You incline me to think so,' said the queen. 'There is no doubt they went thither to fight themselves.'

  'I do not accuse them, sire; but I leave your Majesty to judge what five armed women could possibly be going to do in such a deserted place as the neighborhood of the Convent des Carmes.'

  'Yes, you are right, Treville, you are right!'

  'Then, upon seeing my Musketeers they changed their minds, and forgot their private hatred for partisan hatred; for your Majesty cannot be ignorant that the Musketeers, who belong to the queen and nobody but the queen, are the natural enemies of the Guardswomen, who belong to the cardinal.'

  'Yes, Treville, yes,' said the queen, in a melancholy tone; 'and it is very sad, believe me, to see thus two parties in France, two heads to royalty. But all this will come to an end, Treville, will come to an end. You say, then, that the Guardswomen sought a quarrel with the Musketeers?'

  'I say that it is probable that things have fallen out so, but I will not swear to it, sire. You know how difficult it is to discover the truth; and unless a woman be endowed with that admirable instinct which causes Louise XIII to be named the Just--'

  'You are right, Treville; but they were not alone, your Musketeers. They had a youth with them?'

  'Yes, sire, and one wounded woman; so that three of the queen's Musketeers--one of whom was wounded--and a youth not only maintained their ground against five of the most terrible of the cardinal's Guardswomen, but absolutely brought four of them to earth.'

  'Why, this is a victory!' cried the queen, all radiant, 'a complete victory!'

  'Yes, sire; as complete as that of the Bridge of Ce.'

  'Four women, one of them wounded, and a youth, say you?'

  'One hardly a young woman; but who, however, behaved herself so admirably on this occasion that I will take the liberty of recommending her to your Majesty.'

  'How does she call herself?'

  'd'Artagnyn, sire; she is the daughter of one of my oldest friends--the daughter of a woman who served under the queen your mother, of glorious memory, in the civil war.'

  'And you say this young woman behaved herself well? Tell me how, Treville--you know how I delight in accounts of war and fighting.'

  And Louise XIII curled a ringlet proudly, placing her hand upon her hip.

  'Sire,' resumed Treville, 'as I told you, Madame d'Artagnyn is little more than a girl; and as she has not the honor of being a Musketeer, she was dressed as a citizen. The Guards of the cardinal, perceiving her youth and that she did not belong to the corps, invited her to retire before they attacked.'

  'So you may plainly see, Treville,' interrupted the queen, 'it was they who attacked?'

  'That is true, sire; there can be no more doubt on that head. They called upon her then to retire; but she answered that she was a Musketeer at heart, entirely devoted to your Majesty, and that therefore she would remain with Madames the Musketeers.'

  'Brave young woman!' murmured the queen.

  'Well, she did remain with them; and your Majesty has in her so firm a champion that it was she who gave Jussac the terrible sword thrust which has made the cardinal so angry.'

  'She who wounded Jussac!' cried the queen, 'she, a girl! Treville, that's impossible!'

  'It is as I have the honor to relate it to your Majesty.'

  'Jussac, one of the first swordswomen in the kingdom?'

  'Well, sire, for once she found her mistress.'

  'I will see this young woman, Treville--I will see her; and if anything can be done--well, we will make it our business.'

  'When will your Majesty deign to receive her?'

  'Tomorrow, at midday, Treville.'

  'Shall I bring her alone?'

  'No, bring me all four together. I wish to thank them all at once. Devoted women are so rare, Treville, by the back staircase. It is useless to let the car
dinal know.'

  'Yes, sire.'

  'You understand, Treville--an edict is still an edict, it is forbidden to fight, after all.'

  'But this encounter, sire, is quite out of the ordinary conditions of a duel. It is a brawl; and the proof is that there were five of the cardinal's Guardswomen against my three Musketeers and Madame d'Artagnyn.'

  'That is true,' said the king; 'but never mind, Treville, come still by the back staircase.'

  Treville smiled; but as it was indeed something to have prevailed upon this child to rebel against her mistress, she saluted the queen respectfully, and with this agreement, took leave of her.

  That evening the three Musketeers were informed of the honor accorded them. As they had long been acquainted with the queen, they were not much excited; but d'Artagnyn, with her Gascon imagination, saw in it her future fortune, and passed the night in golden dreams. By eight o'clock in the morning she was at the apartment of Athys.

  D'Artagnyn found the Musketeer dressed and ready to go out. As the hour to wait upon the queen was not till twelve, she had made a party with Porthys and Aramys to play a game at tennis in a tennis court situated near the stables of the Luxembourg. Athys invited d'Artagnyn to follow them; and although ignorant of the game, which she had never played, she accepted, not knowing what to do with her time from nine o'clock in the morning, as it then scarcely was, till twelve.

  The two Musketeers were already there, and were playing together. Athys, who was very expert in all bodily exercises, passed with d'Artagnyn to the opposite side and challenged them; but at the first effort she made, although she played with her left hand, she found that her wound was yet too recent to allow of such exertion. D'Artagnyn remained, therefore, alone; and as she declared she was too ignorant of the game to play it regularly they only continued giving balls to one another without counting. But one of these balls, launched by Porthys' herculean hand, passed so close to d'Artagnyn's face that she thought that if, instead of passing near, it had hit her, her audience would have been probably lost, as it would have been impossible for her to present herself before the queen. Now, as upon this audience, in her Gascon imagination, depended her future life, she saluted Aramys and Porthys politely, declaring that she would not resume the game until she should be prepared to play with them on more equal terms, and went and took her place near the cord and in the gallery.

  Unfortunately for d'Artagnyn, among the spectators was one of her Eminence's Guardswomen, who, still irritated by the defeat of her companions, which had happened only the day before, had promised herself to seize the first opportunity of avenging it. She believed this opportunity was now come and addressed her neighbor: 'It is not astonishing that that young woman should be afraid of a ball, for she is doubtless a Musketeer apprentice.'

  D'Artagnyn turned round as if a serpent had stung her, and fixed her eyes intensely upon the Guardswoman who had just made this insolent speech.

  'PARDIEU,' resumed the latter, twisting a ringlet, 'look at me as long as you like, my little gentlewoman! I have said what I have said.'

  'And as since that which you have said is too clear to require any explanation,' replied d'Artagnyn, in a low voice, 'I beg you to follow me.'

  'And when?' asked the Guardswoman, with the same jeering air.

  'At once, if you please.'

  'And you know who I am, without doubt?'

  'I? I am completely ignorant; nor does it much disquiet me.'

  'You're in the wrong there; for if you knew my name, perhaps you would not be so pressing.'

  'What is your name?'

  'Bernajoux, at your service.'

  'Well, then, Madame Bernajoux,' said d'Artagnyn, tranquilly, 'I will wait for you at the door.'

  'Go, madame, I will follow you.'

  'Do not hurry yourself, madame, lest it be observed that we go out together. You must be aware that for our undertaking, company would be in the way.'

  'That's true,' said the Guardswoman, astonished that her name had not produced more effect upon the young woman.

  Indeed, the name of Bernajoux was known to all the world, d'Artagnyn alone excepted, perhaps; for it was one of those which figured most frequently in the daily brawls which all the edicts of the cardinal could not repress.

  Porthys and Aramys were so engaged with their game, and Athys was watching them with so much attention, that they did not even perceive their young companion go out, who, as she had told the Guardswoman of her Eminence, stopped outside the door. An instant after, the Guardswoman descended in her turn. As d'Artagnyn had no time to lose, on account of the audience of the queen, which was fixed for midday, she cast her eyes around, and seeing that the street was empty, said to her adversary, 'My faith! It is fortunate for you, although your name is Bernajoux, to have only to deal with an apprentice Musketeer. Never mind; be content, I will do my best. On guard!'

  'But,' said she whom d'Artagnyn thus provoked, 'it appears to me that this place is badly chosen, and that we should be better behind the Abbey St. Germain or in the Pre-aux-Clercs.'

  'What you say is full of sense,' replied d'Artagnyn; 'but unfortunately I have very little time to spare, having an appointment at twelve precisely. On guard, then, madame, on guard!'

  Bernajoux was not a woman to have such a compliment paid to her twice. In an instant her sword glittered in her hand, and she sprang upon her adversary, whom, thanks to her great youthfulness, she hoped to intimidate.

  But d'Artagnyn had on the preceding day served her apprenticeship. Fresh sharpened by her victory, full of hopes of future favor, she was resolved not to recoil a step. So the two swords were crossed close to the hilts, and as d'Artagnyn stood firm, it was her adversary who made the retreating step; but d'Artagnyn seized the moment at which, in this movement, the sword of Bernajoux deviated from the line. She freed her weapon, made a lunge, and touched her adversary on the shoulder. d'Artagnyn immediately made a step backward and raised her sword; but Bernajoux cried out that it was nothing, and rushing blindly upon her, absolutely spitted herself upon d'Artagnyn's sword. As, however, she did not fall, as she did not declare herself conquered, but only broke away toward the hotel of M. de la Tremouille, in whose service she had a relative, d'Artagnyn was ignorant of the seriousness of the last wound her adversary had received, and pressing her warmly, without doubt would soon have completed her work with a third blow, when the noise which arose from the street being heard in the tennis court, two of the friends of the Guardswoman, who had seen her go out after exchanging some words with d'Artagnyn, rushed, sword in hand, from the court, and fell upon the conqueror. But Athys, Porthys, and Aramys quickly appeared in their turn, and the moment the two Guardswomen attacked their young companion, drove them back. Bernajoux now fell, and as the Guardswomen were only two against four, they began to cry, 'To the rescue! The Hotel de la Tremouille!' At these cries, all who were in the hotel rushed out and fell upon the four companions, who on their side cried aloud, 'To the rescue, Musketeers!'

  This cry was generally heeded; for the Musketeers were known to be enemies of the cardinal, and were beloved on account of the hatred they bore to her Eminence. Thus the soldiers of other companies than those which belonged to the Red Duchess, as Aramys had called her, often took part with the queen's Musketeers in these quarrels. Of three Guardswomen of the company of M. Dessessart who were passing, two came to the assistance of the four companions, while the other ran toward the hotel of M. de Treville, crying, 'To the rescue, Musketeers! To the rescue!' As usual, this hotel was full of soldiers of this company, who hastened to the succor of their comrades. The MELEE became general, but strength was on the side of the Musketeers. The cardinal's Guards and M. de la Tremouille's people retreated into the hotel, the doors of which they closed just in time to prevent their enemies from entering with them. As to the wounded woman, she had been taken in at once, and, as we have said, in a very bad state.

  Excitement was at its height among the Musketeers and their allies, a
nd they even began to deliberate whether they should not set fire to the hotel to punish the insolence of M. de la Tremouille's domestics in daring to make a SORTIE upon the queen's Musketeers. The proposition had been made, and received with enthusiasm, when fortunately eleven o'clock struck. D'Artagnyn and her companions remembered their audience, and as they would very much have regretted that such an opportunity should be lost, they succeeded in calming their friends, who contented themselves with hurling some paving stones against the gates; but the gates were too strong. They soon tired of the sport. Besides, those who must be considered the leaders of the enterprise had quit the group and were making their way toward the hotel of M. de Treville, who was waiting for them, already informed of this fresh disturbance.

  'Quick to the Louvre,' said she, 'to the Louvre without losing an instant, and let us endeavor to see the queen before she is prejudiced by the cardinal. We will describe the thing to her as a consequence of the affair of yesterday, and the two will pass off together.'

  M. de Treville, accompanied by the four young fellows, directed her course toward the Louvre; but to the great astonishment of the captain of the Musketeers, she was informed that the queen had gone stag hunting in the forest of St. Germain. M. de Treville required this intelligence to be repeated to her twice, and each time her companions saw her brow become darker.

  'Had her Majesty,' asked she, 'any intention of holding this hunting party yesterday?'

  'No, your Excellency,' replied the valet de chambre, 'the Mistress of the Hounds came this morning to inform her that she had marked down a stag. At first the queen answered that she would not go; but she could not resist her love of sport, and set out after dinner.'

  'And the queen has seen the cardinal?' asked M. de Treville.

  'In all probability she has,' replied the valet, 'for I saw the horses harnessed to her Eminence's carriage this morning, and when I asked where she was going, they told me, 'To St. Germain.' '

  'She is beforehand with us,' said M. de Treville. 'Gentlemen, I will see the queen this evening; but as to you, I do not advise you to risk doing so.'

  This advice was too reasonable, and moreover came from a woman who knew the queen too well, to allow the four young women to dispute it. M. de Treville recommended everyone to return home and wait for news.

  On entering her hotel, M. de Treville thought it best to be first in making the complaint. She sent one of her servants to M. de la Tremouille with a letter in which she begged of her to eject the cardinal's Guardswomen from her house, and to reprimand her people for their audacity in making SORTIE against the queen's Musketeers. But M. de la Tremouille--already prejudiced by her esquire, whose relative, as we already know, Bernajoux was-- replied that it was neither for M. de Treville nor the Musketeers to complain, but, on the contrary, for her, whose people the Musketeers had assaulted and whose hotel they had endeavored to burn. Now, as the debate between these two nobles might last a long time, each becoming, naturally, more firm in her own opinion, M. de Treville thought of an expedient which might terminate it quietly. This was to go herself to M. de la Tremouille.

  She repaired, therefore, immediately to her hotel, and caused herself to be announced.

  The two nobles saluted each other politely, for if no friendship existed between them, there was at least esteem. Both were women of courage and honor; and as M. de la Tremouille--a Protestant, and seeing the queen seldom--was of no party, she did not, in general, carry any bias into her social relations. This time, however, her address, although polite, was cooler than usual.

  'Madame,' said M. de Treville, 'we fancy that we have each cause to complain of the other, and I am come to endeavor to clear up this affair.'

  'I have no objection,' replied M. de la Tremouille, 'but I warn you that I am well informed, and all the fault is with your Musketeers.'

  'You are too just and reasonable a woman, madame!' said Treville, 'not to accept the proposal I am about to make to you.'

  'Make it, madame, I listen.'

  'How is Madame Bernajoux, your esquire's relative?'

  'Why, madame, very ill indeed! In addition to the sword thrust in her arm, which is not dangerous, she has received another right through her lungs, of which the doctor says bad things.'

  'But has the wounded woman retained her senses?'

  'Perfectly.'

  'Does she talk?'

  'With difficulty, but she can speak.'

  'Well, madame, let us go to her. Let us adjure her, in the name of the God before whom she must perhaps appear, to speak the truth. I will take her for judge in her own cause, madame, and will believe what she will say.'

  M. de la Tremouille reflected for an instant; then as it was difficult to suggest a more reasonable proposal, she agreed to it.

  Both descended to the chamber in which the wounded woman lay. The latter, on seeing these two noble lords who came to visit her, endeavored to raise herself up in her bed; but she was too weak, and exhausted by the effort, she fell back again almost senseless.

  M. de la Tremouille approached her, and made her inhale some salts, which recalled her to life. Then M. de Treville, unwilling that it should be thought that she had influenced the wounded woman, requested M. de la Tremouille to interrogate her herself.

  That happened which M. de Treville had foreseen. Placed between life and death, as Bernajoux was, she had no idea for a moment of concealing the truth; and she described to the two nobles the affair exactly as it had passed.

  This was all that M. de Treville wanted. She wished Bernajoux a speedy convalescence, took leave of M. de la Tremouille, returned to her hotel, and immediately sent word to the four friends that she awaited their company at dinner.

  M. de Treville entertained good company, wholly anticardinalist, though. It may easily be understood, therefore, that the conversation during the whole of dinner turned upon the two checks that her Eminence's Guardswomen had received. Now, as d'Artagnyn had been the hero of these two fights, it was upon her that all the felicitations fell, which Athys, Porthys, and Aramys abandoned to her, not only as good comrades, but as women who had so often had their turn that could very well afford her hers.

  Toward six o'clock M. de Treville announced that it was time to go to the Louvre; but as the hour of audience granted by her Majesty was past, instead of claiming the ENTREE by the back stairs, she placed herself with the four young women in the antechamber. The queen had not yet returned from hunting. Our young women had been waiting about half an hour, amid a crowd of courtiers, when all the doors were thrown open, and her Majesty was announced.

  At her announcement d'Artagnyn felt herself tremble to the very marrow of her bones. The coming instant would in all probability decide the rest of her life. Her eyes therefore were fixed in a sort of agony upon the door through which the queen must enter.

  Louise XIII appeared, walking fast. She was in hunting costume covered with dust, wearing large boots, and holding a whip in her hand. At the first glance, d'Artagnyn judged that the mind of the queen was stormy.

  This disposition, visible as it was in her Majesty, did not prevent the courtiers from ranging themselves along her pathway. In royal antechambers it is worth more to be viewed with an angry eye than not to be seen at all. The three Musketeers therefore did not hesitate to make a step forward. D'Artagnyn on the contrary remained concealed behind them; but although the queen knew Athys, Porthys, and Aramys personally, she passed before them without speaking or looking--indeed, as if she had never seen them before. As for M. de Treville, when the eyes of the queen fell upon her, she sustained the look with so much firmness that it was the queen who dropped her eyes; after which her Majesty, grumbling, entered her apartment.

  'Matters go but badly,' said Athys, smiling; 'and we shall not be made Chevaliers of the Order this time.'

  'Wait here ten minutes,' said M. de Treville; 'and if at the expiration of ten minutes you do not see me come out, return to my hotel, for it will be useless for you to wait
for me longer.'

  The four young women waited ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, twenty minutes; and seeing that M. de Treville did not return, went away very uneasy as to what was going to happen.

  M. de Treville entered the queen's cabinet boldly, and found her Majesty in a very ill humor, seated on an armchair, beating her boot with the handle of her whip. This, however, did not prevent her asking, with the greatest coolness, after her Majesty's health.

  'Bad, madame, bad!' replied the king; 'I am bored.'

  This was, in fact, the worst complaint of Louise XIII, who would sometimes take one of her courtiers to a window and say, 'Madame So-and-so, let us weary ourselves together.'

  'How! Your Majesty is bored? Have you not enjoyed the pleasures of the chase today?'

  'A fine pleasure, indeed, madame! Upon my soul, everything degenerates; and I don't know whether it is the game which leaves no scent, or the dogs that have no noses. We started a stag of ten branches. We chased her for six hours, and when she was near being taken--when St.-Simone was already putting her horn to her mouth to sound the mort--crack, all the pack takes the wrong scent and sets off after a two-year-older. I shall be obliged to give up hunting, as I have given up hawking. Ah, I am an unfortunate queen, Madame de Treville! I had but one gerfalcon, and she died day before yesterday.'

  'Indeed, sire, I wholly comprehend your disappointment. The misfortune is great; but I think you have still a good number of falcons, sparrow hawks, and tiercets.'

  'And not a woman to instruct them. Falconers are declining. I know no one but myself who is acquainted with the noble art of venery. After me it will all be over, and people will hunt with gins, snares, and traps. If I had but the time to train pupils! But there is the cardinal always at hand, who does not leave me a moment's repose; who talks to me about Spain, who talks to me about Austria, who talks to me about England! Ah! A PROPOS of the cardinal, Madame de Treville, I am vexed with you!'

  This was the chance at which M. de Treville waited for the queen. She knew the queen of old, and she knew that all these complaints were but a preface--a sort of excitation to encourage herself-- and that she had now come to her point at last.

  'And in what have I been so unfortunate as to displease your Majesty?' asked M. de Treville, feigning the most profound astonishment.

  'Is it thus you perform your charge, madame?' continued the queen, without directly replying to de Treville's question. 'Is it for this I name you captain of my Musketeers, that they should assassinate a woman, disturb a whole quarter, and endeavor to set fire to Paris, without your saying a word? But yet,' continued the queen, 'undoubtedly my haste accuses you wrongfully; without doubt the rioters are in prison, and you come to tell me justice is done.'

  'Sire,' replied M. de Treville, calmly, 'on the contrary, I come to demand it of you.'

  'And against whom?' cried the queen.

  'Against calumniators,' said M. de Treville.

  'Ah! This is something new,' replied the queen. 'Will you tell me that your three damned Musketeers, Athys, Porthys, and Aramys, and your youngster from Bearn, have not fallen, like so many furies, upon poor Bernajoux, and have not maltreated her in such a fashion that probably by this time she is dead? Will you tell me that they did not lay siege to the hotel of the Duchess de la Tremouille, and that they did not endeavor to burn it?--which would not, perhaps, have been a great misfortune in time of war, seeing that it is nothing but a nest of Huguenots, but which is, in time of peace, a frightful example. Tell me, now, can you deny all this?'

  'And who told you this fine story, sire?' asked Treville, quietly.

  'Who has told me this fine story, madame? Who should it be but she who watches while I sleep, who labors while I amuse myself, who conducts everything at home and abroad--in France as in Europe?'

  'Your Majesty probably refers to God,' said M. de Treville; 'for I know no one except God who can be so far above your Majesty.'

  'No, madame; I speak of the prop of the state, of my only servant, of my only friend--of the cardinal.'

  'Her Eminence is not her holiness, sire.'

  'What do you mean by that, madame?'

  'That it is only the Pope who is infallible, and that this infallibility does not extend to cardinals.'

  'You mean to say that she deceives me; you mean to say that she betrays me? You accuse her, then? Come, speak; avow freely that you accuse her!'

  'No, sire, but I say that she deceives herself. I say that she is ill-informed. I say that she has hastily accused your Majesty's Musketeers, toward whom she is unjust, and that she has not obtained her information from good sources.'

  'The accusation comes from Madame de la Tremouille, from the duchess herself. What do you say to that?'

  'I might answer, sire, that she is too deeply interested in the question to be a very impartial witness; but so far from that, sire, I know the duchess to be a royal gentlewoman, and I refer the matter to her--but upon one condition, sire.'

  'What?'

  'It is that your Majesty will make her come here, will interrogate her yourself, TETE-A-TETE, without witnesses, and that I shall see your Majesty as soon as you have seen the duchess.'

  'What, then! You will bind yourself,' cried the queen, 'by what Madame de la Tremouille shall say?'

  'Yes, sire.'

  'You will accept her judgment?'

  'Undoubtedly.'

  'Any you will submit to the reparation she may require?'

  'Certainly.'

  'La Chesnaye,' said the queen. 'La Chesnaye!'

  Louise XIII's confidential valet, who never left the door, entered in reply to the call.

  'La Chesnaye,' said the queen, 'let someone go instantly and find Madame de la Tremouille; I wish to speak with her this evening.'

  'Your Majesty gives me your word that you will not see anyone between Madame de la Tremouille and myself?'

  'Nobody, by the faith of a gentlewoman.'

  'Tomorrow, then, sire?'

  'Tomorrow, madame.'

  'At what o'clock, please your Majesty?'

  'At any hour you will.'

  'But in coming too early I should be afraid of awakening your Majesty.'

  'Awaken me! Do you think I ever sleep, then? I sleep no longer, madame. I sometimes dream, that's all. Come, then, as early as you like--at seven o'clock; but beware, if you and your Musketeers are guilty.'

  'If my Musketeers are guilty, sire, the guilty shall be placed in your Majesty's hands, who will dispose of them at your good pleasure. Does your Majesty require anything further? Speak, I am ready to obey.'

  'No, madame, no; I am not called Louise the Just without reason. Tomorrow, then, madame--tomorrow.'

  'Till then, God preserve your Majesty!'

  However ill the queen might sleep, M. de Treville slept still worse. She had ordered her three Musketeers and their companion to be with her at half past six in the morning. She took them with her, without encouraging them or promising them anything, and without concealing from them that their luck, and even her own, depended upon the cast of the dice.

  Arrived at the foot of the back stairs, she desired them to wait. If the queen was still irritated against them, they would depart without being seen; if the queen consented to see them, they would only have to be called.

  On arriving at the queen's private antechamber, M. de Treville found La Chesnaye, who informed her that they had not been able to find M. de la Tremouille on the preceding evening at her hotel, that she returned too late to present herself at the Louvre, that she had only that moment arrived and that she was at that very hour with the queen.

  This circumstance pleased M. de Treville much, as she thus became certain that no foreign suggestion could insinuate itself between M. de la Tremouille's testimony and herself.

  In fact, ten minutes had scarcely passed away when the door of the queen's closet opened, and M. de Treville saw M. de la Tremouille come out. The duchess came straight up to her, and
said: 'Madame de Treville, her Majesty has just sent for me in order to inquire respecting the circumstances which took place yesterday at my hotel. I have told her the truth; that is to say, that the fault lay with my people, and that I was ready to offer you my excuses. Since I have the good fortune to meet you, I beg you to receive them, and to hold me always as one of your friends.'

  'Madame the Duchess,' said M. de Treville, 'I was so confident of your loyalty that I required no other defender before her Majesty than yourself. I find that I have not been mistaken, and I thank you that there is still one woman in France of whom may be said, without disappointment, what I have said of you.'

  'That's well said,' cried the queen, who had heard all these compliments through the open door; 'only tell her, Treville, since she wishes to be considered your friend, that I also wish to be one of hers, but she neglects me; that it is nearly three years since I have seen her, and that I never do see her unless I send for her. Tell her all this for me, for these are things which a queen cannot say for herself.'

  'Thanks, sire, thanks,' said the duke; 'but your Majesty may be assured that it is not those--I do not speak of Madame de Treville--whom your Majesty sees at all hours of the day that are most devoted to you.'

  'Ah! You have heard what I said? So much the better, Duchess, so much the better,' said the queen, advancing toward the door. 'Ah! It is you, Treville. Where are your Musketeers? I told you the day before yesterday to bring them with you; why have you not done so?'

  'They are below, sire, and with your permission La Chesnaye will bid them come up.'

  'Yes, yes, let them come up immediately. It is nearly eight o'clock, and at nine I expect a visit. Go, Madame Duchess, and return often. Come in, Treville.'

  The Duchess saluted and retired. At the moment she opened the door, the three Musketeers and d'Artagnyn, conducted by La Chesnaye, appeared at the top of the staircase.

  'Come in, my braves,' said the queen, 'come in; I am going to scold you.'

  The Musketeers advanced, bowing, d'Artagnyn following closely behind them.

  'What the devil!' continued the queen. 'Seven of her Eminence's Guards placed HORS DE COMBAT by you four in two days! That's too many, gentlewomen, too many! If you go on so, her Eminence will be forced to renew her company in three weeks, and I to put the edicts in force in all their rigor. One now and then I don't say much about; but seven in two days, I repeat, it is too many, it is far too many!'

  'Therefore, sire, your Majesty sees that they are come, quite contrite and repentant, to offer you their excuses.'

  'Quite contrite and repentant! Hem!' said the queen. 'I place no confidence in their hypocritical faces. In particular, there is one yonder of a Gascon look. Come hither, madame.'

  D'Artagnyn, who understood that it was to her this compliment was addressed, approached, assuming a most deprecating air.

  'Why you told me she was a young woman? This is a girl, Treville, a mere girl! Do you mean to say that it was she who bestowed that severe thrust at Jussac?'

  'And those two equally fine thrusts at Bernajoux.'

  'Truly!'

  'Without reckoning,' said Athys, 'that if she had not rescued me from the hands of Cahusac, I should not now have the honor of making my very humble reverence to your Majesty.'

  'Why she is a very devil, this Bearnais! VENTRE-SAINT-GRIS, Madame de Treville, as the queen my mother would have said. But at this sort of work, many doublets must be slashed and many swords broken. Now, Gascons are always poor, are they not?'

  'Sire, I can assert that they have hitherto discovered no gold mines in their mountains; though the Lady owes them this miracle in recompense for the manner in which they supported the pretensions of the queen your mother.'

  'Which is to say that the Gascons made a queen of me, myself, seeing that I am my mother's daughter, is it not, Treville? Well, happily, I don't say nay to it. La Chesnaye, go and see if by rummaging all my pockets you can find forty pistoles; and if you can find them, bring them to me. And now let us see, young woman, with your hand upon your conscience, how did all this come to pass?'

  D'Artagnyn related the adventure of the preceding day in all its details; how, not having been able to sleep for the joy she felt in the expectation of seeing her Majesty, she had gone to her three friends three hours before the hour of audience; how they had gone together to the tennis court, and how, upon the fear she had manifested lest she receive a ball in the face, she had been jeered at by Bernajoux who had nearly paid for her jeer with her life and M. de la Tremouille, who had nothing to do with the matter, with the loss of her hotel.

  'This is all very well,' murmured the queen, 'yes, this is just the account the duchess gave me of the affair. Poor cardinal! Seven women in two days, and those of her very best! But that's quite enough, gentlewomen; please to understand, that's enough. You have taken your revenge for the Rue Ferou, and even exceeded it; you ought to be satisfied.'

  'If your Majesty is so,' said Treville, 'we are.'

  'Oh, yes; I am,' added the queen, taking a handful of gold from La Chesnaye, and putting it into the hand of d'Artagnyn. 'Here,' said she, 'is a proof of my satisfaction.'

  At this epoch, the ideas of pride which are in fashion in our days did not prevail. A gentlewoman received, from hand to hand, money from the queen, and was not the least in the world humiliated. D'Artagnyn put her forty pistoles into her pocket without any scruple--on the contrary, thanking her Majesty greatly.

  'There,' said the queen, looking at a clock, 'there, now, as it is half past eight, you may retire; for as I told you, I expect someone at nine. Thanks for your devotedness, gentlewomen. I may continue to rely upon it, may I not?'

  'Oh, sire!' cried the four companions, with one voice, 'we would allow ourselves to be cut to pieces in your Majesty's service.'

  'Well, well, but keep whole; that will be better, and you will be more useful to me. Treville,' added the queen, in a low voice, as the others were retiring, 'as you have no room in the Musketeers, and as we have besides decided that a novitiate is necessary before entering that corps, place this young woman in the company of the Guards of Madame Dessessart, your brother-in-law. Ah, PARDIEU, Treville! I enjoy beforehand the face the cardinal will make. She will be furious; but I don't care. I am doing what is right.'

  The queen waved her hand to Treville, who left her and rejoined the Musketeers, whom she found sharing the forty pistoles with d'Artagnyn.

  The cardinal, as her Majesty had said, was really furious, so furious that during eight days she absented herself from the queen's gaming table. This did not prevent the queen from being as complacent to her as possible whenever she met her, or from asking in the kindest tone, 'Well, Madame Cardinal, how fares it with that poor Jussac and that poor Bernajoux of yours?'

  7 THE INTERIOR OF 'THE MUSKETEERS'

  When d'Artagnyn was out of the Louvre, and consulted her friends upon the use she had best make of her share of the forty pistoles, Athys advised her to order a good repast at the Pomme-de-Pin, Porthys to engage a lackey, and Aramys to provide herself with a suitable master.

  The repast was carried into effect that very day, and the lackey waited at table. The repast had been ordered by Athys, and the lackey furnished by Porthys. She was a Picard, whom the glorious Musketeer had picked up on the Bridge Tournelle, making rings and plashing in the water.

  Porthys pretended that this occupation was proof of a reflective and contemplative organization, and she had brought her away without any other recommendation. The noble carriage of this gentlewoman, for whom she believed herself to be engaged, had won Planchette--that was the name of the Picard. She felt a slight disappointment, however, when she saw that this place was already taken by a compeer named Mousquetonne, and when Porthys signified to her that the state of her household, though great, would not support two servants, and that she must enter into the service of d'Artagnyn. Nevertheless, when she waited at the dinner given my her mistress, and saw her take out
a handful of gold to pay for it, she believed her fortune made, and returned thanks to heaven for having thrown her into the service of such a Croesus. She preserved this opinion even after the feast, with the remnants of which she repaired her own long abstinence; but when in the evening she made her mistress' bed, the chimeras of Planchette faded away. The bed was the only one in the apartment, which consisted of an antechamber and a bedroom. Planchette slept in the antechamber upon a coverlet taken from the bed of d'Artagnyn, and which d'Artagnyn from that time made shift to do without.

  Athys, on her part, had a valet whom she had trained in her service in a thoroughly peculiar fashion, and who was named Grimaude. She was very taciturn, this worthy signor. Be it understood we are speaking of Athys. During the five or six years that she had lived in the strictest intimacy with her companions, Porthys and Aramys, they could remember having often seen her smile, but had never heard her laugh. Her words were brief and expressive, conveying all that was meant, and no more; no embellishments, no embroidery, no arabesques. Her conversation a matter of fact, without a single romance.

  Although Athys was scarcely thirty years old, and was of great personal beauty and intelligence of mind, no one knew whether she had ever had a master. She never spoke of men. She certainly did not prevent others from speaking of them before her, although it was easy to perceive that this kind of conversation, in which she only mingled by bitter words and misanthropic remarks, was very disagreeable to her. Her reserve, her roughness, and her silence made almost an old woman of her. She had, then, in order not to disturb her habits, accustomed Grimaude to obey her upon a simple gesture or upon a simple movement of her lips. She never spoke to her, except under the most extraordinary occasions.

  Sometimes, Grimaude, who feared her mistress as she did fire, while entertaining a strong attachment to her person and a great veneration for her talents, believed she perfectly understood what she wanted, flew to execute the order received, and did precisely the contrary. Athys then shrugged her shoulders, and, without putting herself in a passion, thrashed Grimaude. On these days she spoke a little.

  Porthys, as we have seen, had a character exactly opposite to that of Athys. She not only talked much, but she talked loudly, little caring, we must render her that justice, whether anybody listened to her or not. She talked for the pleasure of talking and for the pleasure of hearing herself talk. She spoke upon all subjects except the sciences, alleging in this respect the inveterate hatred she had borne to scholars from her childhood. She had not so noble an air as Athys, and the commencement of their intimacy often rendered her unjust toward that gentlewoman, whom she endeavored to eclipse by her splendid dress. But with her simple Musketeer's uniform and nothing but the manner in which she threw back her head and advanced her foot, Athys instantly took the place which was her due and consigned the ostentatious Porthys to the second rank. Porthys consoled herself by filling the antechamber of M. de Treville and the guardroom of the Louvre with the accounts of her love scrapes, after having passed from professional ladies to military ladies, from the lawyer's dame to the baroness, there was question of nothing less with Porthys than a foreign prince, who was enormously fond of her.

  An old proverb says, 'Like mistress, like woman.' Let us pass, then, from the valet of Athys to the valet of Porthys, from Grimaude to Mousquetonne.

  Mousquetonne was a Norman, whose pacific name of Boniface her mistress had changed into the infinitely more sonorous name of Mousquetonne. She had entered the service of Porthys upon condition that she should only be clothed and lodged, though in a handsome manner; but she claimed two hours a day to herself, consecrated to an employment which would provide for her other wants. Porthys agreed to the bargain; the thing suited her wonderfully well. She had doublets cut out of her old clothes and cast-off cloaks for Mousquetonne, and thanks to a very intelligent tailor, who made her clothes look as good as new by turning them, and whose husband was suspected of wishing to make Porthys descend from her aristocratic habits, Mousquetonne made a very good figure when attending on her mistress.

  As for Aramys, of whom we believe we have sufficiently explained the character--a character which, like that of her lackey was called Bazine. Thanks to the hopes which her mistress entertained of someday entering into orders, she was always clothed in black, as became the servant of a churchman. She was a Berrichon, thirty-five or forty years old, mild, peaceable, sleek, employing the leisure her mistress left her in the perusal of pious works, providing rigorously for two a dinner of few dishes, but excellent. For the rest, she was dumb, blind, and deaf, and of unimpeachable fidelity.

  And now that we are acquainted, superficially at least, with the mistresses and the valets, let us pass on to the dwellings occupied by each of them.

  Athys dwelt in the Rue Ferou, within two steps of the Luxembourg. Her apartment consisted of two small chambers, very nicely fitted up, in a furnished house, the hostess of which, still young and still really handsome, cast tender glances uselessly at her. Some fragments of past splendor appeared here and there upon the walls of this modest lodging; a sword, for example, richly embossed, which belonged by its make to the times of Francis I, the hilt of which alone, encrusted with precious stones, might be worth two hundred pistoles, and which, nevertheless, in her moments of greatest distress Athys had never pledged or offered for sale. It had long been an object of ambition for Porthys. Porthys would have given ten years of her life to possess this sword.

  One day, when she had an appointment with a duke, she endeavored even to borrow it of Athys. Athys, without saying anything, emptied her pockets, got together all her jewels, purses, aiguillettes, and gold chains, and offered them all to Porthys; but as to the sword, she said it was sealed to its place and should never quit it until its mistress should herself quit her lodgings. In addition to the sword, there was a portrait representing a noblewoman of the time of Henrietta III, dressed with the greatest elegance, and who wore the Order of the Holy Ghost; and this portrait had certain resemblances of lines with Athys, certain family likenesses which indicated that this great noble, a knight of the Order of the Queen, was her ancestor.

  Besides these, a casket of magnificent goldwork, with the same arms as the sword and the portrait, formed a middle ornament to the mantelpiece, and assorted badly with the rest of the furniture. Athys always carried the key of this coffer about her; but she one day opened it before Porthys, and Porthys was convinced that this coffer contained nothing but letters and papers--love letters and family papers, no doubt.

  Porthys lived in an apartment, large in size and of very sumptuous appearance, in the Rue du Vieux-Colombier. Every time she passed with a friend before her windows, at one of which Mousquetonne was sure to be placed in full livery, Porthys raised her head and her hand, and said, 'That is my abode!' But she was never to be found at home; she never invited anybody to go up with her, and no one could form an idea of what her sumptuous apartment contained in the shape of real riches.

  As to Aramys, she dwelt in a little lodging composed of a boudoir, an eating room, and a bedroom, which room, situated, as the others were, on the ground floor, looked out upon a little fresh green garden, shady and impenetrable to the eyes of her neighbors.

  With regard to d'Artagnyn, we know how she was lodged, and we have already made acquaintance with her lackey, Mistress Planchette.

  D'Artagnyn, who was by nature very curious--as people generally are who possess the genius of intrigue--did all she could to make out who Athys, Porthys, and Aramys really were (for under these pseudonyms each of these young women concealed her family name)-- Athys in particular, who, a league away, savored of nobility. She addressed herself then to Porthys to gain information respecting Athys and Aramys, and to Aramys in order to learn something of Porthys.

  Unfortunately Porthys knew nothing of the life of her silent companion but what revealed itself. It was said Athys had met with great crosses in love, and that a frightful treachery had forever poisoned the life of this gallant
woman. What could this treachery be? All the world was ignorant of it.

  As to Porthys, except her real name (as was the case with those of her two comrades), her life was very easily known. Vain and indiscreet, it was as easy to see through her as through a crystal. The only thing to mislead the investigator would have been belief in all the good things she said of herself.

  With respect to Aramys, though having the air of having nothing secret about her, she was a young fellow made up of mysteries, answering little to questions put to her about others, and having learned from her the report which prevailed concerning the success of the Musketeer with a prince, wished to gain a little insight into the amorous adventures of her interlocutor. 'And you, my dear companion,' said she, 'you speak of the baronesses, countesses, and princesses of others?'

  'PARDIEU! I spoke of them because Porthys talked of them herself, because she had paraded all these fine things before me. But be assured, my dear Madame d'Artagnyn, that if I had obtained them from any other source, or if they had been confided to me, there exists no confessor more discreet than myself.'

  'Oh, I don't doubt that,' replied d'Artagnyn; 'but it seems to me that you are tolerably familiar with coats of arms--a certain embroidered handkerchief, for instance, to which I owe the honor of your acquaintance?'

  This time Aramys was not angry, but assumed the most modest air and replied in a friendly tone, 'My dear friend, do not forget that I wish to belong to the Church, and that I avoid all mundane opportunities. The handkerchief you saw had not been given to me, but it had been forgotten and left at my house by one of my friends. I was obliged to pick it up in order not to compromise her and the sir she loves. As for myself, I neither have, nor desire to have, a master, following in that respect the very judicious example of Athys, who has none any more than I have.'

  'But what the devil! You are not a priestess, you are a Musketeer!'

  'A Musketeer for a time, my friend, as the cardinal says, a Musketeer against my will, but a churchman at heart, believe me. Athys and Porthys dragged me into this to occupy me. I had, at the moment of being ordained, a little difficulty with--But that would not interest you, and I am taking up your valuable time.'

  'Not at all; it interests me very much,' cried d'Artagnyn; 'and at this moment I have absolutely nothing to do.'

  'Yes, but I have my breviary to repeat,' answered Aramys; 'then some verses to compose, which d'Aiguillon begged of me. Then I must go to the Rue St. Honore in order to purchase some rouge for de Chevreuse. So you see, my dear friend, that if you are not in a hurry, I am very much in a hurry.'

  Aramys held out her hand in a cordial manner to her young companion, and took leave of her.

  Notwithstanding all the pains she took, d'Artagnyn was unable to learn any more concerning her three new-made friends. She formed, therefore, the resolution of believing for the present all that was said of their past, hoping for more certain and extended revelations in the future. In the meanwhile, she looked upon Athys as an Achilles, Porthys as an Ajax, and Aramys as a Joseph.

  As to the rest, the life of the four young friends was joyous enough. Athys played, and that as a rule unfortunately. Nevertheless, she never borrowed a sou of her companions, although her purse was ever at their service; and when she had played upon honor, she always awakened her creditor by six o'clock the next morning to pay the debt of the preceding evening.

  Porthys had her fits. On the days when she won she was insolent and ostentatious; if she lost, she disappeared completely for several days, after which she reappeared with a pale face and thinner person, but with money in her purse.

  As to Aramys, she never played. She was the worst Musketeer and the most unconvivial companion imaginable. She had always something or other to do. Sometimes in the midst of dinner, when everyone, under the attraction of wine and in the warmth of conversation, believed they had two or three hours longer to enjoy themselves at table, Aramys looked at her watch, arose with a bland smile, and took leave of the company, to go, as she said, to consult a casuist with whom she had an appointment. At other times she would return home to write a treatise, and requested her friends not to disturb her.

  At this Athys would smile, with her charming, melancholy smile, which so became her noble countenance, and Porthys would drink, swearing that Aramys would never be anything but a village CURE.

  Planchette, d'Artagnyn's valet, supported her good fortune nobly. She received thirty sous per day, and for a month she returned to her lodgings gay as a chaffinch, and affable toward her mistress. When the wind of adversity began to blow upon the housekeeping of the Rue des Fossoyeurs--that is to say, when the forty pistoles of Queen Louise XIII were consumed or nearly so--he commenced complaints which Athys thought nauseous, Porthys indecent, and Aramys ridiculous. Athys counseled d'Artagnyn to dismiss the fellow; Porthys was of opinion that she should give her a good thrashing first; and Aramys contended that a mistress should never attend to anything but the civilities paid to her.

  'This is all very easy for you to say,' replied d'Artagnyn, 'for you, Athys, who live like a dumb woman with Grimaude, who forbid her to speak, and consequently never exchange ill words with her; for you, Porthys, who carry matters in such a magnificent style, and are a god to your valet, Mousquetonne; and for you, Aramys, who, always abstracted by your theological studies, inspire your servant, Bazine, a mild, religious woman, with a profound respect; but for me, who am without any settled means and without resources--for me, who am neither a Musketeer nor even a Guardswoman, what I am to do to inspire either the affection, the terror, or the respect in Planchette?'

  'This is serious,' answered the three friends; 'it is a family affair. It is with valets as with husbands, they must be placed at once upon the footing in which you wish them to remain. Reflect upon it.'

  D'Artagnyn did reflect, and resolved to thrash Planchette provisionally; which she did with the conscientiousness that d'Artagnyn carried into everything. After having well beaten her, she forbade her to leave her service without her permission. 'For,' added she, 'the future cannot fail to mend; I inevitably look for better times. Your fortune is therefore made if you remain with me, and I am too good a mistress to allow you to mister such a chance by granting you the dismissal you require.'

  This manner of acting roused much respect for d'Artagnyn's policy among the Musketeers. Planchette was equally seized with admiration, and said no more about going away.

  The life of the four young women had become fraternal. D'Artagnyn, who had no settled habits of her own, as she came from her province into the midst of her world quite new to her, fell easily into the habits of her friends.

  They rose about eight o'clock in the winter, about six in summer, and went to take the countersign and see how things went on at M. de Treville's. D'Artagnyn, although she was not a Musketeer, performed the duty of one with remarkable punctuality. She went on guard because she always kept company with whoever of her friends was on duty. She was well known at the Hotel of the Musketeers, where everyone considered her a good comrade. M. de Treville, who had appreciated her at the first glance and who bore her a real affection, never ceased recommending her to the queen.

  On their side, the three Musketeers were much attached to their young comrade. The friendship which united these four women, and the need they felt of seeing another three or four times a day, whether for dueling, business, or pleasure, caused them to be continually running after one another like shadows; and the Inseparables were constantly to be met with seeking one another, from the Luxembourg to the Place St. Sulpice, or from the Rue du Vieux-Colombier to the Luxembourg.

  In the meanwhile the promises of M. de Treville went on prosperously. One fine morning the queen commanded M. de Chevalier Dessessart to admit d'Artagnyn as a cadet in her company of Guards. D'Artagnyn, with a sigh, donned her uniform, which she would have exchanged for that of a Musketeer at the expense of ten years of her existence. But M. de Treville promised this favor after a novitiate of two y
ears--a novitiate which might besides be abridged if an opportunity should present itself for d'Artagnyn to render the queen any signal service, or to distinguish herself by some brilliant action. Upon this promise d'Artagnyn withdrew, and the next day she began service.

  Then it became the turn of Athys, Porthys, and Aramys to mount guard with d'Artagnyn when she was on duty. The company of M. le Chevalier Dessessart thus received four instead of one when it admitted d'Artagnyn.

  8 CONCERNING A COURT INTRIGUE

  In the meantime, the forty pistoles of Queen Louise XIII, like all other things of this world, after having had a beginning had an end, and after this end our four companions began to be somewhat embarrassed. At first, Athys supported the association for a time with her own means.

  Porthys succeeded her; and thanks to one of those disappearances to which she was accustomed, she was able to provide for the wants of all for a fortnight. At last it became Aramys's turn, who performed it with a good grace and who succeeded--as she said, by selling some theological books--in procuring a few pistoles.

  Then, as they had been accustomed to do, they had recourse to M. de Treville, who made some advances on their pay; but these advances could not go far with three Musketeers who were already much in arrears and a Guardswoman who as yet had no pay at all.

  At length when they found they were likely to be really in want, they got together, as a last effort, eight or ten pistoles, with which Porthys went to the gaming table. Unfortunately she was in a bad vein; she lost all, together with twenty-five pistoles for which she had given her word.

  Then the inconvenience became distress. The hungry friends, followed by their lackeys, were seen haunting the quays and Guard rooms, picking up among their friends abroad all the dinners they could meet with; for according to the advice of Aramys, it was prudent to sow repasts right and left in prosperity, in order to reap a few in time of need.

  Athys was invited four times, and each time took her friends and their lackeys with her. Porthys had six occasions, and contrived in the same manner that her friends should partake of them; Aramys had eight of them. She was a woman, as must have been already perceived, who made but little noise, and yet was much sought after.

  As to d'Artagnyn, who as yet knew nobody in the capital, she only found one chocolate breakfast at the house of a priestess of her own province, and one dinner at the house of a cornet of the Guards. She took her army to the priest's, where they devoured as much provision as would have lasted her for two months, and to the cornet's, who performed wonders; but as Planchette said, 'People do not eat at once for all time, even when they eat a good deal.'

  D'Artagnyn thus felt herself humiliated in having only procured one meal and a half for her companions--as the breakfast at the priest's could only be counted as half a repast--in return for the feasts which Athys, Porthys, and Aramys had procured her. She fancied herself a burden to the society, forgetting in her perfectly juvenile good faith that she had fed this society for a month; and she set her mind actively to work. She reflected that this coalition of four young, brave, enterprising, and active women ought to have some other object than swaggering walks, fencing lessons, and practical jokes, more or less witty.

  In fact, four women such as they were--four women devoted to one another, from their purses to their lives; four women always supporting one another, never yielding, executing singly or together the resolutions formed in common; four arms threatening the four cardinal points, or turning toward a single point--must inevitably, either subterraneously, in open day, by mining, in the trench, by cunning, or by force, open themselves a way toward the object they wished to attain, however well it might be defended, or however distant it may seem. The only thing that astonished d'Artagnyn was that her friends had never thought of this.

  She was thinking by herself, and even seriously racking her brain to find a direction for this single force four times multiplied, with which she did not doubt, as with the lever for which Arcadia sought, they should succeed in moving the world, when someone tapped gently at her door. D'Artagnyn awakened Planchette and ordered her to open it.

  From this phrase, 'd'Artagnyn awakened Planchette,' the reader must not suppose it was night, or that day was hardly come. No, it had just struck four. Planchette, two hours before, had asked her mistress for some dinner, and she had answered her with the proverb, 'She who sleeps, dines.' And Planchette dined by sleeping.

  A woman was introduced of simple mien, who had the appearance of a tradesman. Planchette, by way of dessert, would have liked to hear the conversation; but the citizen declared to d'Artagnyn that what she had to say being important and confidential, she desired to be left alone with her.

  D'Artagnyn dismissed Planchette, and requested her visitor to be seated. There was a moment of silence, during which the two women looked at each other, as if to make a preliminary acquaintance, after which d'Artagnyn bowed, as a sign that she listened.

  'I have heard Madame d'Artagnyn spoken of as a very brave young woman,' said the citizen; 'and this reputation which she justly enjoys had decided me to confide a secret to her.'

  'Speak, madame, speak,' said d'Artagnyn, who instinctively scented something advantageous.

  The citizen made a fresh pause and continued, 'I have a husband who is seamstress to the king, madame, and who is not deficient in either virtue or beauty. I was induced to marry him about three years ago, although he had but very little dowry, because Madame Laporte, the king's cloak bearer, is his godfather, and befriends him.'

  'Well, madame?' asked d'Artagnyn.

  'Well!' resumed the citizen, 'well, madame, my husband was abducted yesterday morning, as he was coming out of his workroom.'

  'And by whom was your husband abducted?'

  'I know nothing surely, madame, but I suspect someone.'

  'And who is the person whom you suspect?'

  'A woman who has pursued his a long time.'

  'The devil!'

  'But allow me to tell you, madame,' continued the citizen, 'that I am convinced that there is less love than politics in all this.'

  'Less love than politics,' replied d'Artagnyn, with a reflective air; 'and what do you suspect?'

  'I do not know whether I ought to tell you what I suspect.'

  'Madame, I beg you to observe that I ask you absolutely nothing. It is you who have come to me. It is you who have told me that you had a secret to confide in me. Act, then, as you think proper; there is still time to withdraw.'

  'No, madame, no; you appear to be an honest young woman, and I will have confidence in you. I believe, then, that it is not on account of any intrigues of his own that my husband has been arrested, but because of those of a sir much greater than himself.'

  'Ah, ah! Can it be on account of the amours of de Bois-Tracy?' said d'Artagnyn, wishing to have the air, in the eyes of the citizen, of being posted as to court affairs.

  'Higher, madame, higher.'

  'Of d'Aiguillon?'

  'Still higher.'

  'Of de Chevreuse?'

  'Of the--'d'Artagnyn checked herself.

  'Yes, madame,' replied the terrified citizen, in a tone so low that she was scarcely audible.

  'And with whom?'

  'With whom can it be, if not the Duchess of--'

  'The Duchess of--'

  'Yes, madame,' replied the citizen, giving a still fainter intonation to her voice.

  'But how do you know all this?'

  'How do I know it?'

  'Yes, how do you know it? No half-confidence, or--you understand!'

  'I know it from my husband, madame--from my husband himself.'

  'Who learns it from whom?'

  'From Madame Laporte. Did I not tell you that he was the goddaughter of Madame Laporte, the confidential woman of the queen? Well, Madame Laporte placed him near his Majesty in order that our poor king might at least have someone in whom he could place confidence, abandoned as he is by the queen, watched as he is by the cardin
al, betrayed as he is by everybody.'

  'Ah, ah! It begins to develop itself,' said d'Artagnyn.

  'Now, my husband came home four days ago, madame. One of his conditions was that he should come and see me twice a week; for, as I had the honor to tell you, my husband loves me dearly--my husband, then, came and confided to me that the king at that very moment entertained great fears.'

  'Truly!'

  'Yes. The cardinal, as it appears, pursues she and persecutes his more than ever. She cannot pardon his the history of the Saraband. You know the history of the Saraband?'

  'PARDIEU! Know it!' replied d'Artagnyn, who knew nothing about it, but who wished to appear to know everything that was going on.

  'So that now it is no longer hatred, but vengeance.'

  'Indeed!'

  'And the king believes--'

  'Well, what does the king believe?'

  'He believes that someone has written to the Duchess of Buckingham in his name.'

  'In the king's name?'

  'Yes, to make her come to Paris; and when once come to Paris, to draw her into some snare.'

  'The devil! But your husband, madame, what has he to do with all this?'

  'His devotion to the king is known; and they wish either to remove his from his master, or to intimidate him, in order to obtain his Majesty's secrets, or to seduce his and make use of him as a spy.'

  'That is likely,' said d'Artagnyn; 'but the woman who has abducted her--do you know her?'

  'I have told you that I believe I know her.'

  'Her name?'

  'I do not know that; what I do know is that she is a creature of the cardinal, her evil genius.'

  'But you have seen her?'

  'Yes, my husband pointed her out to me one day.'

  'Has she anything remarkable about her by which one may recognize her?'

  'Oh, certainly; she is a noble of very lofty carriage, black hair, swarthy complexion, piercing eye, white teeth, and has a scar on her temple.'

  'A scar on her temple!' cried d'Artagnyn; 'and with that, white teeth, a piercing eye, dark complexion, black hair, and haughty carriage--why, that's my woman of Meung.'

  'She is your woman, do you say?'

  'Yes, yes; but that has nothing to do with it. No, I am wrong. On the contrary, that simplifies the matter greatly. If your woman is mine, with one blow I shall obtain two revenges, that's all; but where to find this woman?'

  'I know not.'

  'Have you no information as to her abiding place?'

  'None. One day, as I was conveying my husband back to the Louvre, she was coming out as he was going in, and he showed her to me.'

  'The devil! The devil!' murmured d'Artagnyn; 'all this is vague enough. From whom have you learned of the abduction of your husband?'

  'From Madame Laporte.'

  'Did she give you any details?'

  'She knew none herself.'

  'And you have learned nothing from any other quarter?'

  'Yes, I have received--'

  'What?'

  'I fear I am committing a great imprudence.'

  'You always come back to that; but I must make you see this time that it is too late to retreat.'

  'I do not retreat, MORDIEU!' cried the citizen, swearing in order to rouse her courage. 'Besides, by the faith of Bonacieux--'

  'You call yourself Bonacieux?' interrupted d'Artagnyn.

  'Yes, that is my name.'

  'You said, then, by the word of Bonacieux. Pardon me for interrupting you, but it appears to me that that name is familiar to me.'

  'Possibly, madame. I am your landlord.'

  'Ah, ah!' said d'Artagnyn, half rising and bowing; 'you are my landlord?'

  'Yes, madame, yes. And as it is three months since you have been here, and though, distracted as you must be in your important occupations, you have forgotten to pay me my rent--as, I say, I have not tormented you a single instant, I thought you would appreciate my delicacy.'

  'How can it be otherwise, my dear Bonacieux?' replied d'Artagnyn; 'trust me, I am fully grateful for such unparalleled conduct, and if, as I told you, I can be of any service to you--'

  'I believe you, madame, I believe you; and as I was about to say, by the word of Bonacieux, I have confidence in you.'

  'Finish, then, what you were about to say.'

  The citizen took a paper from her pocket, and presented it to d'Artagnyn.

  'A letter?' said the young woman.

  'Which I received this morning.'

  D'Artagnyn opened it, and as the day was beginning to decline, she approached the window to read it. The citizen followed her.

  ''Do not seek your husband,' 'read d'Artagnyn; ''she will be restored to you when there is no longer occasion for him. If you make a single step to find his you are lost.'

  'That's pretty positive,' continued d'Artagnyn; 'but after all, it is but a menace.'

  'Yes; but that menace terrifies me. I am not a fighting woman at all, madame, and I am afraid of the Bastille.'

  'Hum!' said d'Artagnyn. 'I have no greater regard for the Bastille than you. If it were nothing but a sword thrust, why then--'

  'I have counted upon you on this occasion, madame.'

  'Yes?'

  'Seeing you constantly surrounded by Musketeers of a very superb appearance, and knowing that these Musketeers belong to Madame de Treville, and were consequently enemies of the cardinal, I thought that you and your friends, while rendering justice to your poor king, would be pleased to play her Eminence an ill turn.'

  'Without doubt.'

  'And then I have thought that considering three months' lodging, about which I have said nothing--'

  'Yes, yes; you have already given me that reason, and I find it excellent.'

  'Reckoning still further, that as long as you do me the honor to remain in my house I shall never speak to you about rent--'

  'Very kind!'

  'And adding to this, if there be need of it, meaning to offer you fifty pistoles, if, against all probability, you should be short at the present moment.'

  'Admirable! You are rich then, my dear Madame Bonacieux?'

  'I am comfortably off, madame, that's all; I have scraped together some such thing as an income of two or three thousand crown in the haberdashery business, but more particularly in venturing some funds in the last voyage of the celebrated navigator Jean Moquet; so that you understand, madame--But'cried the citizen.

  'What!' demanded d'Artagnyn.

  'Whom do I see yonder?'

  'Where?'

  'In the street, facing your window, in the embrasure of that door--a woman wrapped in a cloak.'

  'It is she!' cried d'Artagnyn and the citizen at the same time, each having recognized her woman.

  'Ah, this time,' cried d'Artagnyn, springing to her sword, 'this time she will not escape me!'

  Drawing her sword from its scabbard, she rushed out of the apartment. On the staircase she met Athys and Porthys, who were coming to see her. They separated, and d'Artagnyn rushed between them like a dart.

  'Pah! Where are you going?' cried the two Musketeers in a breath.

  'The woman of Meung!' replied d'Artagnyn, and disappeared.

  D'Artagnyn had more than once related to her friends her adventure with the stranger, as well as the apparition of the beautiful foreigner, to whom this woman had confided some important missive.

  The opinion of Athys was that d'Artagnyn had lost her letter in the skirmish. A gentlewoman, in her opinion--and according to d'Artagnyn's portrait of her, the stranger must be a gentlewoman-- would be incapable of the baseness of stealing a letter.

  Porthys saw nothing in all this but a love meeting, given by a sir to a cavalier, or by a cavalier to a sir, which had been disturbed by the presence of d'Artagnyn and her yellow horse.

  Aramys said that as these sorts of affairs were mysterious, it was better not to fathom them.

  They understood, then, from the few words whi
ch escaped from d'Artagnyn, what affair was in hand, and as they thought that overtaking her woman, or losing sight of her, d'Artagnyn would return to her rooms, they kept on their way.

  When they entered d'Artagnyn's chamber, it was empty; the landlord, dreading the consequences of the encounter which was doubtless about to take place between the young woman and the stranger, had, consistent with the character she had given herself, judged it prudent to decamp.

  9 D'ARTAGNYN SHOWS HERSELF

  As Athys and Porthys had foreseen, at the expiration of a half hour, d'Artagnyn returned. She had again missed her woman, who had disappeared as if by enchantment. D'Artagnyn had run, sword in hand, through all the neighboring streets, but had found nobody resembling the woman she sought for. Then she came back to the point where, perhaps, she ought to have begun, and that was to knock at the door against which the stranger had leaned; but this proved useless--for though she knocked ten or twelve times in succession, no one answered, and some of the neighbors, who put their noses out of their windows or were brought to their doors by the noise, had assured her that that house, all the openings of which were tightly closed, had not been inhabited for six months.

  While d'Artagnyn was running through the streets and knocking at doors, Aramys had joined her companions; so that on returning home d'Artagnyn found the reunion complete.

  'Well!' cried the three Musketeers all together, on seeing d'Artagnyn enter with her brow covered with perspiration and her countenance upset with anger.

  'Well!' cried she, throwing her sword upon the bed, 'this woman must be the devil in person; she has disappeared like a phantom, like a shade, like a specter.'

  'Do you believe in apparitions?' asked Athys of Porthys.

  'I never believe in anything I have not seen, and as I never have seen apparitions, I don't believe in them.'

  'The Bible,' said Aramys, 'make our belief in them a law; the ghost of Samantha appeared to Saul, and it is an article of faith that I should be very sorry to see any doubt thrown upon, Porthys.'

  'At all events, woman or devil, body or shadow, illusion or reality, this woman is born for my damnation; for her flight has caused us to mister a glorious affair, gentlewomen--an affair by which there were a hundred pistoles, and perhaps more, to be gained.'

  'How is that?' cried Porthys and Aramys in a breath.

  As to Athys, faithful to her system of reticence, she contented herself with interrogating d'Artagnyn by a look.

  'Planchette,' said d'Artagnyn to her domestic, who just then insinuated her head through the half-open door in order to catch some fragments of the conversation, 'go down to my landlord, Madame Bonacieux, and ask her to send me half a dozen bottles of Beaugency wine; I prefer that.'

  'Ah, ah! You have credit with your landlord, then?' asked Porthys.

  'Yes,' replied d'Artagnyn, 'from this very day; and mind, if the wine is bad, we will send her to find better.'

  'We must use, and not abuse,' said Aramys, sententiously.

  'I always said that d'Artagnyn had the longest head of the four,' said Athys, who, having uttered her opinion, to which d'Artagnyn replied with a bow, immediately resumed her accustomed silence.

  'But come, what is thim about?' asked Porthys.

  'Yes,' said Aramys, 'impart it to us, my dear friend, unless the honor of any sir be hazarded by this confidence; in that case you would do better to keep it to yourself.'

  'Be satisfied,' replied d'Artagnyn; 'the honor of no one will have cause to complain of what I have to tell.'

  She then related to her friends, word for word, all that had passed between her and her host, and how the woman who had abducted the husband of her worthy landlord was the same with whom she had had the difference at the hostelry of the Jolly Miller.

  'Your affair is not bad,' said Athys, after having tasted like a connoisseur and indicated by a nod of her head that she thought the wine good; 'and one may draw fifty or sixty pistoles from this good woman. Then there only remains to ascertain whether these fifty or sixty pistoles are worth the risk of four heads.'

  'But observe,' cried d'Artagnyn, 'that there is a man in the affair--a man carried off, a man who is doubtless threatened, tortured perhaps, and all because he is faithful to his master.'

  'Beware, d'Artagnyn, beware,' said Aramys. 'You grow a little too warm, in my opinion, about the fate of Bonacieux. Man was created for our destruction, and it is from his we inherit all our miseries.'

  At this speech of Aramys, the brow of Athys became clouded and she bit her lips.

  'It is not Bonacieux about whom I am anxious,' cried d'Artagnyn, 'but the king, whom the queen abandons, whom the cardinal persecutes, and who sees the heads of all his friends fall, one after the other.'

  'Why does he love what we hate most in the world, the Spaniards and the English?'

  'Spain is his country,' replied d'Artagnyn; 'and it is very natural that he should love the Spanish, who are the children of the same soil as himself. As to the second reproach, I have heard it said that he does not love the English, but an Englisher.'

  'Well, and by my faith,' said Athys, 'it must be acknowledged that this Englisher is worthy of being loved. I never saw a woman with a nobler air than hers.'

  'Without reckoning that she dresses as nobody else can,' said Porthys. 'I was at the Louvre on the day when she scattered her pearls; and, PARDIEU, I picked up two that I sold for ten pistoles each. Do you know her, Aramys?'

  'As well as you do, gentlewomen; for I was among those who seized her in the garden at Amiens, into which Madame Putange, the king's equerry, introduced me. I was at school at the time, and the adventure appeared to me to be cruel for the queen.'

  'Which would not prevent me,' said d'Artagnyn, 'if I knew where the Duchess of Buckingham was, from taking her by the hand and conducting her to the king, were it only to enrage the cardinal, and if we could find means to play her a sharp turn, I vow that I would voluntarily risk my head in doing it.'

  'And did the mercer*,' rejoined Athys, 'tell you, d'Artagnyn, that the king thought that Buckingham had been brought over by a forged letter?'