Part 18

Bonacieux returned home, passing through the same door that had just given passage to the two fugitives, climbed to d'Artagnan's landing, and knocked.

No one answered. Porthos, for the sake of making a greater show, had borrowed Planchet that evening. As for d'Artagnan, he had no intention of giving any sign of his presence.

At the moment Bonacieux's finger rapped on the door, both young people felt their hearts leap.

"There's no one at home," said Bonacieux.

"No matter, let's go into your place; we'll be safer there than here on the doorstep."

"Oh, heavens!" murmured Mme Bonacieux, "we won't hear anything more."

"On the contrary," said d'Artagnan, "we'll hear even better."

D'Artagnan removed the three or four floor tiles that made his room another ear of Dionysius, spread a rug on the floor, knelt down, and motioned for Mme Bonacieux to lean down as he was doing toward the opening.

"Are you sure there's no one there?" said the stranger.

"I can answer for it," said Bonacieux.

"And you think your wife?…

"Has returned to the Louvre."

"Without speaking to anyone but you?"

"I'm sure of it."

"That's an important point, you understand?"

"So the news I brought you has some value?…

"Very great, my dear Bonacieux, I won't hide that from you."

"Then the cardinal will be pleased with me?"

"I have no doubt of it."

"The great cardinal!"

"Are you sure that in her conversation with you, your wife didn't mention any names?"

"I don't think so."

"She didn't name Mme de Chevreuse, nor M. de Buckingham, nor Mme de Vernet?"

"No, she only told me she wanted to send me to London to serve the interests of an illustrious person."

"The traitor!" murmured Mme Bonacieux.

"Silence!" said d'Artagnan, taking her hand, which she abandoned to him without thinking.

"No matter," continued the man in the cloak, "you were foolish not to pretend to accept the commission; you would have the letter now; the state that's threatened would be saved, and you…

"And I?"

"Well, you! The cardinal would have given you letters of nobility…

"He told you so?"

"Yes, I know he wanted to give you that surprise."

"Don't worry," replied Bonacieux; "my wife adores me, and it's still possible."

"The fool!" murmured Mme Bonacieux.

"Silence!" said d'Artagnan, squeezing her hand more tightly.

"How is it still possible?" continued the man in the cloak.

"I'll go back to the Louvre, ask for Mme Bonacieux, say I've thought it over, resume the affair, get the letter, and run to the cardinal's."

"Well, go quickly; I'll come back soon to know the result of your démarche."

The stranger went out.

"Wretch!" said Mme Bonacieux, once again addressing this epithet to her husband.

"Silence!" repeated d'Artagnan, squeezing her hand even more tightly.

A terrible howl then interrupted the reflections of d'Artagnan and Mme Bonacieux. It was her husband, who had noticed the disappearance of his purse and was crying thief.

"Oh, my God!" cried Mme Bonacieux, "he'll rouse the whole neighborhood."

Bonacieux shouted for a long time; but since such cries, given their frequency, attracted no one in the Rue des Fossoyeurs, and moreover the mercer's house had been rather ill-famed for some time, seeing that no one came, he went out still shouting, and they heard his voice fading away in the direction of the Rue du Bac.

"And now that he's gone, it's your turn to leave," said Mme Bonacieux; "courage, but above all prudence, and remember that you owe yourself to the queen."

"To her and to you!" cried d'Artagnan. "Be calm, beautiful Constance, I will return worthy of her gratitude; but will I also return worthy of your love?"

The young woman answered only by the vivid blush that colored her cheeks. A few moments later, d'Artagnan went out in his turn, wrapped as well in a large cloak that was cavalierly turned up by the scabbard of a long sword.

Mme Bonacieux followed him with that long look of love with which a woman accompanies the man she feels loving her; but when he had disappeared at the corner of the street, she fell to her knees, and clasping her hands:

"Oh, my God!" she cried, "protect the queen, protect me!"

CHAPTER 19. PLAN OF CAMPAIGN

D'Artagnan went straight to M. de Tréville's. He had reflected that within a few minutes the cardinal would be warned by that damned stranger, who appeared to be his agent, and he thought rightly that there was not a moment to lose.

The young man's heart overflowed with joy. An opportunity where there was both glory to acquire and money to gain presented itself to him, and, as a first encouragement, had just brought him closer to a woman he adored. This stroke of luck thus did almost at once, for him, more than he would have dared to ask of Providence.

M. de Tréville was in his salon with his usual court of gentlemen. D'Artagnan, who was known as a familiar of the house, went straight to his study and had him told that he awaited him for a matter of importance.

D'Artagnan had been there barely five minutes when M. de Tréville entered. At first glance and at the joy that was painted on his face, the worthy captain understood that something new was indeed happening.

All along the way, d'Artagnan had wondered whether he should confide in M. de Tréville, or merely ask him for carte blanche for a secret affair. But M. de Tréville had always been so perfect toward him, he was so strongly devoted to the king and queen, he hated the cardinal so cordially, that the young man resolved to tell him everything.

"You sent for me, my young friend?" said M. de Tréville.

"Yes, monsieur," said d'Artagnan, "and you will forgive me, I hope, for having disturbed you, when you know what important matter is in question."

"Speak, then, I am listening."

"It's a matter of nothing less," said d'Artagnan, lowering his voice, "than the honor and perhaps the life of the queen."

"What are you saying?" asked M. de Tréville, looking all around to see if they were truly alone, and bringing his questioning gaze back to d'Artagnan.

"I am saying, monsieur, that chance has made me master of a secret…

"Which you will keep, I hope, young man, upon your life."

"But which I must confide to you, monsieur, for you alone can help me in the mission I have just received from Her Majesty."

"Does this secret belong to you?"

"No, monsieur, it is the queen's."

"Are you authorized by Her Majesty to confide it to me?"

"No, monsieur, for on the contrary the deepest secrecy is recommended to me."

"Why then will you betray it to me?"

"Because, I tell you, without you I can do nothing, and I am afraid you will refuse me the favor I've come to ask, if you don't know the purpose for which I ask it."

"Keep your secret, young man, and tell me what you desire."

"I desire that you obtain for me, from M. des Essarts, a fifteen-day leave."

"When?"

"This very night."

"You are leaving Paris?"

"I am going on a mission."

"Can you tell me where?"

"To London."

"Does anyone have an interest in your not reaching your goal?"

"The cardinal, I believe, would give anything in the world to prevent my succeeding."

"And you are going alone?"

"I am going alone."

"In that case, you won't get past Bondy; I tell you that, on my word as Tréville."

"How so?"

"You will be assassinated."

"I will die doing my duty."

"But your mission will not be accomplished."

"That is true," said d'Artagnan.

"Believe me," continued Tréville, "in enterprises of this kind, you need four to get one through."

"Ah! you are right, monsieur," said d'Artagnan; "but you know Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, and you know whether I can command them."

"Without confiding to them the secret I didn't want to know?"

"We have sworn to each other, once and for all, blind trust and devotion through all trials; besides, you can tell them that you have full confidence in me, and they won't be more incredulous than you."

"I can send each of them a fifteen-day leave, that's all: to Athos, whose wound still troubles him, to go to the Forges spa; to Porthos and to Aramis, to follow their friend, whom they don't want to abandon in such a painful situation. Sending their leave will be proof that I authorize their journey."

"Thank you, monsieur, you are a hundred times good."

"Go find them then immediately, and let everything be carried out tonight. Ah! and first write me your request to M. des Essarts. Perhaps you had a spy on your trail, and your visit, which in that case is already known to the cardinal, will thus be legitimized."

D'Artagnan composed this request, and M. de Tréville, receiving it from his hands, assured him that before two in the morning the four leaves would be at the respective homes of the travelers.

"Have the kindness to send mine to Athos's," said d'Artagnan. "I would be afraid, if I went home, of encountering some bad surprise."

"Be calm. Adieu and bon voyage! By the way!" said M. de Tréville, calling him back.

D'Artagnan retraced his steps.

"Do you have money?"

D'Artagnan jingled the purse he had in his pocket.

"Enough?" asked M. de Tréville.

"Three hundred pistoles."

"That's good, one can go to the ends of the earth with that; go then."

D'Artagnan saluted M. de Tréville, who held out his hand; d'Artagnan shook it with respect mingled with gratitude. Since he had arrived in Paris, he had had only reason to praise this excellent man, whom he had always found worthy, loyal, and great.

His first visit was to Aramis; he had not returned to his friend since the famous evening when he had followed Mme Bonacieux. What's more: he had barely seen the young musketeer, and each time he had seen him again, he had thought he noticed a deep sadness imprinted on his face.

That evening again, Aramis was watching, somber and pensive; d'Artagnan asked him some questions about this profound melancholy; Aramis excused himself on a commentary on the eighteenth chapter of Saint Augustine that he was forced to write in Latin for the following week, and which preoccupied him greatly.

As the two friends had been talking for a few moments, a servant of M. de Tréville entered, bearing a sealed packet.

"What is that?" asked Aramis.

"The leave that monsieur requested," replied the lackey.

"I didn't request any leave."

"Be quiet and take it," said d'Artagnan. "And you, my friend, here is a half-pistole for your trouble; you will tell M. de Tréville that M. Aramis thanks him most sincerely. Go."

The lackey bowed to the ground and went out.

"What does this mean?" asked Aramis.

"Take what you need for a fifteen-day journey, and follow me."

"But I can't leave Paris at this moment, without knowing…"

Aramis stopped.

"What has become of her, isn't that it?" continued d'Artagnan.

"Who?" replied Aramis.

"The woman who was here, the woman with the embroidered handkerchief."

"Who told you there was a woman here?" replied Aramis, turning pale as death.

"I saw her."

"And you know who she is?"

"I think I suspect it, at least."

"Listen," said Aramis, "since you know so many things, do you know what has become of that woman?"

"I presume she has returned to Tours."

"To Tours? yes, that's right, you know her. But how did she return to Tours without telling me anything?"

"Because she was afraid of being arrested."

"Why didn't she write to me?"

"Because she was afraid of compromising you."

"D'Artagnan, you give me back my life!" cried Aramis. "I thought myself scorned, betrayed. I was so happy to see her again! I couldn't believe she risked her liberty for me, and yet for what cause would she have returned to Paris?"

"For the cause that today sends us to England."

"And what is that cause?" asked Aramis.

"You will know one day, Aramis; but for the moment, I will imitate the reserve of the _doctor's niece_."

Aramis smiled, for he remembered the tale he had told one evening to his friends.

"Well, then, since she has left Paris and you are sure of it, d'Artagnan, nothing holds me here anymore, and I am ready to follow you. You say we are going?…

"To Athos's for the moment, and if you wish to come, I even invite you to hurry, for we have already lost a lot of time. By the way, warn Bazin."

"Is Bazin coming with us?" asked Aramis.

"Perhaps. In any case, it's good that he follow us for now to Athos's."

Aramis called Bazin, and after ordering him to come join him at Athos's:

"Let's go then," he said, taking his cloak, his sword, and his three pistols, and opening three or four drawers uselessly to see if he might not find some stray pistole. Then, when he had well assured himself that this search was superfluous, he followed d'Artagnan, wondering how it was that the young guards cadet knew as well as he did who the woman was to whom he had given hospitality, and knew better than he did what had become of her.

Only, as they were leaving, Aramis placed his hand on d'Artagnan's arm, and looking at him fixedly:

"You haven't spoken of this woman to anyone?" he said.

"To no one in the world."

"Not even to Athos and Porthos?"

"I haven't breathed a single word to them."

"Good."

And, reassured on this important point, Aramis continued on his way with d'Artagnan, and both soon arrived at Athos's.

They found him holding his leave in one hand and M. de Tréville's letter in the other.

"Can you explain to me what this leave and this letter that I've just received mean?" said Athos, astonished.

"My dear Athos, since your health absolutely requires it, I am quite willing for you to rest for fifteen days. Go then take the waters at Forges or any others that suit you, and recover quickly.

"Your affectionate

"Tréville"

"Well, this leave and this letter mean that you must follow me, Athos."

"To the Forges spa?"

"There or elsewhere."

"For the king's service?"

"For the king's or the queen's: are we not servants of Their Majesties?"

At that moment, Porthos entered.

"Pardieu," he said, "here's a strange thing: since when, among the musketeers, are leaves granted to people without their asking for them?"

"Since," said d'Artagnan, "they have friends who ask for them on their behalf."

"Ah! ah!" said Porthos, "it seems there's something new here?"

"Yes, we are leaving," said Aramis.

"For what country?" asked Porthos.

"My faith, I don't know too well," said Athos; "ask that of d'Artagnan."

"For London, gentlemen," said d'Artagnan.

"For London!" cried Porthos; "and what are we going to do in London?"

"That's what I cannot tell you, gentlemen, and you must trust me."

"But to go to London," added Porthos, "you need money, and I have none."

"Nor I," said Aramis.

"Nor I," said Athos.

"I have money, I," replied d'Artagnan, pulling his treasure from his pocket and placing it on the table. "In this purse there are three hundred pistoles; let each of us take seventy-five; that's as much as is needed to go to London and return. Besides, be calm, we won't all arrive in London."

"And why is that?"

"Because, in all probability, some of us will remain on the road."

"But is it a campaign we are undertaking?"

"And one of the most dangerous, I warn you."

"Ah well, since we risk getting ourselves killed," said Porthos, "I'd like to know why, at least!"

"You'll be much further ahead for knowing!" said Athos.

"Nevertheless," said Aramis, "I am of Porthos's opinion."

"Does the king have the habit of giving you accounts? No; he simply says to you: 'Gentlemen, there is fighting in Gascony or in Flanders; go fight,' and you go. Why? you don't even concern yourselves with it."

"D'Artagnan is right," said Athos, "here are our three leaves from M. de Tréville, and here are three hundred pistoles from I don't know where. Let's go get ourselves killed where we are told to go. Is life worth so many questions? D'Artagnan, I am ready to follow you."

"And me too," said Porthos.

"And me too," said Aramis. "Besides, I am not sorry to leave Paris. I need distraction."

"Well, you will have distraction, gentlemen, be assured," said d'Artagnan.

"And now, when do we leave?" said Athos.

"Right away," replied d'Artagnan, "there's not a minute to lose."

"Ho! Grimaud, Planchet, Mousqueton, Bazin!" cried the four young men, calling their lackeys, "grease our boots and bring the horses from the hotel."

Indeed, each musketeer left at the general hotel as at a barracks his horse and that of his lackey.

Planchet, Grimaud, Mousqueton, and Bazin departed in all haste.

"Now, let's draw up the plan of campaign," said Porthos. "Where do we go first?"

"To Calais," said d'Artagnan; "that's the most direct line to reach London."

"Well," said Porthos, "here is my opinion."

"Speak."

"Four men traveling together would be suspect: d'Artagnan will give each of us his instructions, I will leave ahead by the Boulogne road to reconnoiter the way; Athos will leave two hours later by the Amiens road; Aramis will follow us by the Noyon road; as for d'Artagnan, he will leave by whatever road he wishes, with Planchet's clothes, while Planchet will follow us as d'Artagnan and in the guards' uniform."

"Gentlemen," said Athos, "my opinion is that it is not fitting to involve lackeys in any way in such an affair; a secret may by chance be betrayed by gentlemen, but it is almost always sold by lackeys."

"Porthos's plan seems impractical to me," said d'Artagnan, "in that I myself don't know what instructions I can give you. I am the bearer of a letter, that's all. I don't have and cannot make three copies of this letter, since it is sealed; so in my opinion, we must travel together. This letter is here, in this pocket." And he showed the pocket where the letter was. "If I am killed, one of you will take it and you will continue the journey; if he is killed, it will be another's turn, and so on; provided that one arrives, that's all that is needed."

"Bravo, d'Artagnan! your opinion is mine," said Athos. "It is necessary to be consistent, besides: I am going to take the waters, you will accompany me; instead of the Forges waters, I am going to take sea waters; I am free. They want to arrest us, I show M. de Tréville's letter, and you show your leaves; they attack us, we defend ourselves; they try us, we maintain tooth and nail that we had no other intention but to dip ourselves a certain number of times in the sea; they would have too easy a time with four isolated men, whereas four men together make a troop. We will arm the four lackeys with pistols and muskets; if they send an army against us, we will give battle, and the survivor, as d'Artagnan said, will carry the letter."

"Well said," cried Aramis; "you don't speak often, Athos, but when you speak, it's like Saint John Chrysostom. I adopt Athos's plan. And you, Porthos?"

"Me too," said Porthos, "if it suits d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan, bearer of the letter, is naturally the leader of the enterprise; let him decide, and we will execute."

"Well," said d'Artagnan, "I decide that we adopt Athos's plan and that we leave in half an hour."

"Adopted!" replied the three musketeers in chorus.

And each, reaching out his hand toward the purse, took seventy-five pistoles and made his preparations to leave at the agreed hour.

CHAPTER 20. THE JOURNEY

At two o'clock in the morning, our four adventurers left Paris by the Saint-Denis barrier; as long as it was night, they remained silent; despite themselves, they were under the influence of the darkness and saw ambushes everywhere.

At the first rays of day, their tongues loosened; with the sun, gaiety returned: it was like the eve of a battle, hearts beat, eyes laughed; one felt that the life one was perhaps about to leave was, when all was said and done, a good thing.

The aspect of the caravan, moreover, was most formidable: the black horses of the musketeers, their martial bearing, that habit of the squadron which makes these noble companions of the soldier march regularly, would have betrayed the strictest incognito.

The servants followed, armed to the teeth.

Everything went well as far as Chantilly, where they arrived around eight o'clock in the morning. They needed breakfast. They stopped before an inn recommended by a sign representing Saint Martin giving half his cloak to a poor man. They ordered the lackeys not to unsaddle the horses and to be ready to leave immediately.

They entered the common room and sat down at table. A gentleman, who had just arrived by the Dammartin road, was sitting at the same table and breakfasting. He started a conversation about rain and fine weather; the travelers answered; he drank to their health; the travelers returned his politeness.

But at the moment when Mousqueton came to announce that the horses were ready and when they were rising from the table, the stranger proposed to Porthos a toast to the cardinal. Porthos replied that he would be glad to, if the stranger in his turn would drink to the king's health. The stranger cried out that he knew no other king than His Eminence. Porthos called him a drunkard; the stranger drew his sword.

"You have done a foolish thing," said Athos; "no matter, there's no going back now: kill this man and come join us as quickly as you can."

And all three mounted their horses and set off again at full gallop, while Porthos promised his adversary to perforate him with all the strokes known in fencing.

"That's one down!" said Athos after five hundred paces.

"But why did this man attack Porthos rather than any other?" asked Aramis.

"Because, Porthos speaking louder than all of us, he took him for the leader," said d'Artagnan.

"I always said this Gascon cadet was a well of wisdom," murmured Athos.

And the travelers continued on their way.

At Beauvais, they stopped for two hours, both to let the horses blow and to wait for Porthos. After two hours, as Porthos did not arrive, nor any news of him, they set off again.

A league from Beauvais, in a place where the road was narrowed between two embankments, they encountered eight or ten men who, taking advantage of the fact that the road was unpaved in that spot, looked as if they were working there, digging holes and making muddy ruts.

Aramis, afraid of dirtying his boots in this artificial mortar, spoke harshly to them. Athos wanted to restrain him, it was too late. The workmen began to jeer at the travelers, and their insolence made even the cold Athos lose his head, who spurred his horse against one of them.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”