69. Conversational.
Though Mordaunt had been so completely taken by surprise and had mountedthe stairs in such utter confusion, when once seated he recoveredhimself, as it were, and prepared to seize any possible opportunity ofescape. His eye wandered to a long stout sword on his flank and heinstinctively slipped it around within reach of his right hand.
D'Artagnan was waiting for a reply to his remark and said nothing.Aramis muttered to himself, "We shall hear nothing but the usualcommonplace things."
Porthos sucked his mustache, muttering, "A good deal of ceremonyto-night about crushing an adder." Athos shrunk into his corner, paleand motionless as a bas-relief.
The silence, however, could not last forever. So D'Artagnan began:
"Sir," he said, with desperate politeness, "it seems to me that youchange your costume almost as rapidly as I have seen the Italian mummersdo, whom the Cardinal Mazarin brought over from Bergamo and whom hedoubtless took you to see during your travels in France."
Mordaunt did not reply.
"Just now," D'Artagnan continued, "you were disguised--I mean to say,attired--as a murderer, and now----"
"And now I look very much like a man who is going to be murdered."
"Oh! sir," said D'Artagnan, "how can you talk like that when you are inthe company of gentlemen and have such an excellent sword at your side?"
"No sword is excellent enough to be of use against four swords anddaggers."
"Well, that is scarcely the question. I had the honor of asking you whyyou altered your costume. The mask and beard became you very well, andas to the axe, I do not think it would be out of keeping even at thismoment. Why, then, have you laid it aside?"
"Because, remembering the scene at Armentieres, I thought I should findfour axes for one, as I was to meet four executioners."
"Sir," replied D'Artagnan, in the calmest manner possible, "you are veryyoung; I shall therefore overlook your frivolous remarks. What tookplace at Armentieres has no connection whatever with the presentoccasion. We could scarcely have requested your mother to take a swordand fight us."
"Aha! It is a duel, then?" cried Mordaunt, as if disposed to reply atonce to the provocation.
Porthos rose, always ready for this kind of adventure.
"Pardon me," said D'Artagnan. "Do not let us do things in a hurry. Wewill arrange the matter rather better. Confess, Monsieur Mordaunt, thatyou are anxious to kill some of us."
"All," replied Mordaunt.
"Then, my dear sir; I am convinced that these gentlemen return your kindwishes and will be delighted to kill you also. Of course they will do soas honorable gentlemen, and the best proof I can furnish is this----"
So saying, he threw his hat on the ground, pushed back his chair to thewall and bowed to Mordaunt with true French grace.
"At your service, sir," he continued. "My sword is shorter than yours,it's true, but, bah! I think the arm will make up for the sword."
"Halt!" cried Porthos coming forward. "I begin, and without anyrhetoric."
"Allow me, Porthos," said Aramis.
Athos did not move. He might have been taken for a statue. Even hisbreathing seemed to be arrested.
"Gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "you shall have your turn. MonsieurMordaunt dislikes you sufficiently not to refuse you afterward. You cansee it in his eye. So pray keep your places, like Athos, whose calmnessis entirely laudable. Besides, we will have no words about it. I haveparticular business to settle with this gentleman and I shall and willbegin."
Porthos and Aramis drew back, disappointed, and drawing his swordD'Artagnan turned to his adversary:
"Sir, I am waiting for you."
"And for my part, gentlemen, I admire you. You are disputing which shallfight me first, but you do not consult me who am most concerned in thematter. I hate you all, but not equally. I hope to kill all four of you,but I am more likely to kill the first than the second, the second thanthe third, and the third than the last. I claim, then, the right tochoose my opponent. If you refuse this right you may kill me, but Ishall not fight."
"It is but fair," said Porthos and Aramis, hoping he would choose one ofthem.
Athos and D'Artagnan said nothing, but their silence seemed to implyconsent.
"Well, then," said Mordaunt, "I choose for my adversary the man who, notthinking himself worthy to be called Comte de la Fere, calls himselfAthos."
Athos sprang up, but after an instant of motionless silence he said, tothe astonishment of his friends, "Monsieur Mordaunt, a duel between usis impossible. Submit this honour to somebody else." And he sat down.
"Ah!" said Mordaunt, with a sneer, "there's one who is afraid."
"Zounds!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, bounding toward him, "who says thatAthos is afraid?"
"Let him have his say, D'Artagnan," said Athos, with a smile of sadnessand contempt.
"Is it your decision, Athos?" resumed the Gascon.
"Irrevocably."
"You hear, sir," said D'Artagnan, turning to Mordaunt. "The Comte de laFere will not do you the honor of fighting with you. Choose one of us toreplace the Comte de la Fere."
"As long as I don't fight with him it is the same to me with whom Ifight. Put your names into a hat and draw lots."
"A good idea," said D'Artagnan.
"At least that will conciliate us all," said Aramis.
"I should never have thought of that," said Porthos, "and yet it is verysimple."
"Come, Aramis," said D'Artagnan, "write this for us in those neat littlecharacters in which you wrote to Marie Michon that the mother of thisgentleman intended to assassinate the Duke of Buckingham."
Mordaunt sustained this new attack without wincing. He stood with hisarms folded, apparently as calm as any man could be in suchcircumstances. If he had not courage he had what is very like it,namely, pride.
Aramis went to Cromwell's desk, tore off three bits of paper of equalsize, wrote on the first his own name and on the others those of his twocompanions, and presented them open to Mordaunt, who by a movement ofhis head indicated that he left the matter entirely to Aramis. He thenrolled them separately and put them in a hat, which he handed toMordaunt.
Mordaunt put his hand into the hat, took out one of the three papers anddisdainfully dropped it on the table without reading it.
"Ah! serpent," muttered D'Artagnan, "I would give my chance of acaptaincy in the mousquetaires for that to be my name."
Aramis opened the paper, and in a voice trembling with hate andvengeance read "D'Artagnan."
The Gascon uttered a cry of joy and turning to Mordaunt:
"I hope, sir," said he, "you have no objection to make."
"None, whatever," replied the other, drawing his sword and resting thepoint on his boot.
The moment that D'Artagnan saw that his wish was accomplished and hisman would not escape him, he recovered his usual tranquillity. He turnedup his cuffs neatly and rubbed the sole of his right boot on the floor,but did not fail, however, to remark that Mordaunt was looking about himin a singular manner.
"Are you ready, sir?" he said at last.
"I was waiting for you, sir," said Mordaunt, raising his head andcasting at his opponent a look it would be impossible to describe.
"Well, then," said the Gascon, "take care of yourself, for I am not abad hand at the rapier."
"Nor I either."
"So much the better; that sets my mind at rest. Defend yourself."
"One minute," said the young man. "Give me your word, gentlemen, thatyou will not attack me otherwise than one after the other."
"Is it to have the pleasure of insulting us that you say that, my littleviper?"
"No, but to set my mind at rest, as you observed just now."
"It is for something else than that, I imagine," muttered D'Artagnan,shaking his head doubtfully.
"On the honor of gentlemen," said Aramis and Porthos.
"In that case, gentlemen, have the kindness to retire into the corners,so as to give us ample room. We shall re
quire it."
"Yes, gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "we must not leave this person theslightest pretext for behaving badly, which, with all due respect, Ifancy he is anxious still to do."
This new attack made no impression on Mordaunt. The space was cleared,the two lamps placed on Cromwell's desk, in order that the combatantsmight have as much light as possible; and the swords crossed.
D'Artagnan was too good a swordsman to trifle with his opponent. He madea rapid and brilliant feint which Mordaunt parried.
"Aha!" he cried with a smile of satisfaction.
And without losing a minute, thinking he saw an opening, he thrust hisright in and forced Mordaunt to parry a counter en quarte so fine thatthe point of the weapon might have turned within a wedding ring.
This time it was Mordaunt who smiled.
"Ah, sir," said D'Artagnan, "you have a wicked smile. It must have beenthe devil who taught it you, was it not?"
Mordaunt replied by trying his opponent's weapon with an amount ofstrength which the Gascon was astonished to find in a form apparently sofeeble; but thanks to a parry no less clever than that which Mordaunthad just achieved, he succeeded in meeting his sword, which slid alonghis own without touching his chest.
Mordaunt rapidly sprang back a step.
"Ah! you lose ground, you are turning? Well, as you please, I even gainsomething by it, for I no longer see that wicked smile of yours. Youhave no idea what a false look you have, particularly when you areafraid. Look at my eyes and you will see what no looking-glass has evershown you--a frank and honorable countenance."
To this flow of words, not perhaps in the best taste, but characteristicof D'Artagnan, whose principal object was to divert his opponent'sattention, Mordaunt did not reply, but continuing to turn around hesucceeded in changing places with D'Artagnan.
He smiled more and more sarcastically and his smile began to make theGascon anxious.
"Come, come," cried D'Artagnan, "we must finish with this," and in histurn he pressed Mordaunt hard, who continued to lose ground, butevidently on purpose and without letting his sword leave the line for amoment. However, as they were fighting in a room and had not space to goon like that forever, Mordaunt's foot at last touched the wall, againstwhich he rested his left hand.
"Ah, this time you cannot lose ground, my fine friend!" exclaimedD'Artagnan. "Gentlemen, did you ever see a scorpion pinned to a wall?No. Well, then, you shall see it now."
In a second D'Artagnan had made three terrible thrusts at Mordaunt, allof which touched, but only pricked him. The three friends looked on,panting and astonished. At last D'Artagnan, having got up too close,stepped back to prepare a fourth thrust, but the moment when, after afine, quick feint, he was attacking as sharply as lightning, the wallseemed to give way, Mordaunt disappeared through the opening, andD'Artagnan's blade, caught between the panels, shivered like a sword ofglass. D'Artagnan sprang back; the wall had closed again.
Mordaunt, in fact, while defending himself, had manoeuvred so as toreach the secret door by which Cromwell had left, had felt for the knobwith his left hand, pressed it and disappeared.
The Gascon uttered a furious imprecation, which was answered by a wildlaugh on the other side of the iron panel.
"Help me, gentlemen," cried D'Artagnan, "we must break in this door."
"It is the devil in person!" said Aramis, hastening forward.
"He escapes us," growled Porthos, pushing his huge shoulder against thehinges, but in vain. "'Sblood! he escapes us."
"So much the better," muttered Athos.
"I thought as much," said D'Artagnan, wasting his strength in uselessefforts. "Zounds, I thought as much when the wretch kept moving aroundthe room. I thought he was up to something."
"It's a misfortune, to which his friend, the devil, treats us," saidAramis.
"It's a piece of good fortune sent from Heaven," said Athos, evidentlymuch relieved.
"Really!" said D'Artagnan, abandoning the attempt to burst open thepanel after several ineffectual attempts, "Athos, I cannot imagine howyou can talk to us in that way. You cannot understand the position weare in. In this kind of game, not to kill is to let one's self bekilled. This fox of a fellow will be sending us a hundred iron-sidedbeasts who will pick us off like sparrows in this place. Come, come, wemust be off. If we stay here five minutes more there's an end of us."
"Yes, you are right."
"But where shall we go?" asked Porthos.
"To the hotel, to be sure, to get our baggage and horses; and fromthere, if it please God, to France, where, at least, I understand thearchitecture of the houses."
So, suiting the action to the word, D'Artagnan thrust the remnant of hissword into its scabbard, picked up his hat and ran down the stairs,followed by the others.
Vingt ans après. English Page 69
