Twenty Years After by Alexandre Dumas (good story books to read txt) đź“•
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- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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“Alas!” said De Winter, “I am at this moment as poor as he is, if not poorer. But to return to our subject.”
“Well, then, you wish to know if I am of Mazarin’s party? No. Pardon my frankness, too, my lord.”
“I am obliged to you, count, for this pleasing intelligence! You make me young and happy again by it. Ah! so you are not a Mazarinist? Delightful! Indeed, you could not belong to him. But pardon me, are you free? I mean to ask if you are married?”
“Ah! as to that, no,” replied Athos, laughing.
“Because that young man, so handsome, so elegant, so polished----”
“Is a child I have adopted and who does not even know who was his father.”
“Very well; you are always the same, Athos, great and generous. Are you still friends with Monsieur Porthos and Monsieur Aramis?”
“Add Monsieur d’Artagnan, my lord. We still remain four friends devoted to each other; but when it becomes a question of serving the cardinal or of fighting him, of being Mazarinists or Frondists, then we are only two.”
“Is Monsieur Aramis with D’Artagnan?” asked Lord de Winter.
“No,” said Athos; “Monsieur Aramis does me the honor to share my opinions.”
“Could you put me in communication with your witty and agreeable friend? Is he much changed?”
“He has become an abbe, that is all.”
“You alarm me; his profession must have made him renounce any great undertakings.”
“On the contrary,” said Athos, smiling, “he has never been so much a musketeer as since he became an abbe, and you will find him a veritable soldier.”
“Could you engage to bring him to me to-morrow morning at ten o’clock, on the Pont du Louvre?”
“Oh, oh!” exclaimed Athos, smiling, “you have a duel in prospect.”
“Yes, count, and a splendid duel, too; a duel in which I hope you will take your part.”
“Where are we to go, my lord?”
“To Her Majesty the Queen of England, who has desired me to present you to her.”
“This is an enigma,” said Athos, “but it matters not; since you know the solution of it I ask no further. Will your lordship do me the honor to sup with me?”
“Thanks, count, no,” replied De Winter. “I own to you that that young man’s visit has subdued my appetite and probably will rob me of my sleep. What undertaking can have brought him to Paris? It was not to meet me that he came, for he was ignorant of my journey. This young man terrifies me, my lord; there lies in him a sanguinary predisposition.”
“What occupies him in England?”
“He is one of Cromwell’s most enthusiastic disciples.”
“But what attached him to the cause? His father and mother were Catholics, I believe?”
“His hatred of the king, who deprived him of his estates and forbade him to bear the name of De Winter.”
“And what name does he now bear?”
“Mordaunt.”
“A Puritan, yet disguised as a monk he travels alone in France.”
“Do you say as a monk?”
“It was thus, and by mere accident--may God pardon me if I blaspheme--that he heard the confession of the executioner of Bethune.”
“Then I understand it all! he has been sent by Cromwell to Mazarin, and the queen guessed rightly; we have been forestalled. Everything is clear to me now. Adieu, count, till to-morrow.”
“But the night is dark,” said Athos, perceiving that Lord de Winter seemed more uneasy than he wished to appear; “and you have no servant.”
“I have Tony, a safe if simple youth.”
“Halloo, there, Grimaud, Olivain, and Blaisois! call the viscount and take the musket with you.”
Blaisois was the tall youth, half groom, half peasant, whom we saw at the Chateau de Bragelonne, whom Athos had christened by the name of his province.
“Viscount,” said Athos to Raoul, as he entered, “you will conduct my lord as far as his hotel and permit no one to approach him.”
“Oh! count,” said De Winter, “for whom do you take me?”
“For a stranger who does not know Paris,” said Athos, “and to whom the viscount will show the way.”
De Winter shook him by the hand.
“Grimaud,” said Athos, “put yourself at the head of the troop and beware of the monk.”
Grimaud shuddered, and nodding, awaited the departure, regarding the butt of his musket with silent eloquence. Then obeying the orders given him by Athos, he headed the small procession, bearing the torch in one hand and the musket in the other, until it reached De Winter’s inn, when pounding on the portal with his fist, he bowed to my lord and faced about without a word.
The same order was followed in returning, nor did Grimaud’s searching glance discover anything of a suspicious appearance, save a dark shadow, as it were, in ambuscade, at the corner of the Rue Guenegaud and of the Quai. He fancied, also, that in going he had already observed the street watcher who had attracted his attention. He pushed on toward him, but before he could reach it the shadow had disappeared into an alley, into which Grimaud deemed it scarcely prudent to pursue it.
The next day, on awaking, the count perceived Raoul by his bedside. The young man was already dressed and was reading a new book by M. Chapelain.
“Already up, Raoul?” exclaimed the count.
“Yes, sir,” replied Raoul, with slight hesitation; “I did not sleep well.”
“You, Raoul, not sleep well! then you must have something on your mind!” said Athos.
“Sir, you will perhaps think that I am in a great hurry to leave you when I have only just arrived, but----”
“Have you only two days of leave, Raoul?”
“On the contrary, sir, I have ten; nor is it to the camp I wish to go.”
“Where, then?” said Athos, smiling, “if it be not a secret. You are now almost a man, since you have made your first passage of arms, and have acquired the right to go where you will without consulting me.”
“Never, sir,” said Raoul, “as long as I possess the happiness of having you for a protector, shall I deem I have the right of freeing myself from a guardianship so valuable to me. I have, however, a wish to go and pass a day at Blois. You look at me and you are going to laugh at me.”
“No, on the contrary, I am not inclined to laugh,” said Athos, suppressing a sigh. “You wish to see Blois again; it is but natural.”
“Then you permit me to go, you are not angry in your heart?” exclaimed Raoul, joyously.
“Certainly; and why should I regret what gives you pleasure?”
“Oh! how kind you are,” exclaimed the young man, pressing his guardian’s hand; “and I can set out immediately?”
“When you like, Raoul.”
“Sir,” said Raoul, as he turned to leave the room, “I have thought of one thing, and that is about the Duchess of Chevreuse, who was so kind to me and to whom I owe my introduction to the prince.”
“And you ought to thank her, Raoul. Well, try the Hotel de Luynes, Raoul, and ask if the duchess can receive you. I am glad to see you pay attention to the usages of the world. You must take Grimaud and Olivain.”
“Both, sir?” asked Raoul, astonished.
“Both.”
Raoul went out, and when Athos heard his young, joyous voice calling to Grimaud and Olivain, he sighed.
“It is very soon to leave me,” he thought, “but he follows the common custom. Nature has made us thus; she makes the young look ever forward, not behind. He certainly likes the child, but will he love me less as his affection grows for her?”
And Athos confessed to himself that, he was unprepared for so prompt a departure; but Raoul was so happy that this reflection effaced everything else from the consideration of his guardian.
Everything was ready at ten o’clock for the departure, and as Athos was watching Raoul mount, a groom rode up from the Duchess de Chevreuse. He was charged to tell the Comte de la Fere, that she had learned of the return of her youthful protege, and also the manner he had conducted himself on the field, and she added that she should be very glad to offer him her congratulations.
“Tell her grace,” replied Athos, “that the viscount has just mounted his horse to proceed to the Hotel de Luynes.”
Then, with renewed instructions to Grimaud, Athos signified to Raoul that he could set out, and ended by reflecting that it was perhaps better that Raoul should be away from Paris at that moment.
Athos had not failed to send early to Aramis and had given his letter to Blaisois, the only serving-man whom he had left. Blaisois found Bazin donning his beadle’s gown, his services being required that day at Notre Dame.
Athos had desired Blaisois to try to speak to Aramis himself. Blaisois, a tall, simple youth, who understood nothing but what he was expressly told, asked, therefore for the Abbe d’Herblay, and in spite of Bazin’s assurances that his master was not at home, he persisted in such a manner as to put Bazin into a passion. Blaisois seeing Bazin in clerical guise, was a little discomposed at his denials and wanted to pass at all risks, believing too, that the man with whom he had to do was endowed with the virtues of his cloth, namely, patience and Christian charity.
But Bazin, still the servant of a musketeer, when once the blood mounted to his fat cheeks, seized a broomstick and began belaboring Blaisois, saying:
“You have insulted the church, my friend, you have insulted the church!”
At this moment Aramis, aroused by this unusual disturbance, cautiously opened the door of his room; and Blaisois, looking reproachfully at the Cerberus, drew the letter from his pocket and presented it to Aramis.
“From the Comte de la Fere,” said Aramis. “All right.” And he retired into his room without even asking the cause of so much noise.
Blaisois returned disconsolate to the Hotel of the Grand Roi Charlemagne and when Athos inquired if his commission was executed, he related his adventure.
“You foolish fellow!” said Athos, laughing. “And you did not tell him that you came from me?”
“No, sir.”
At ten o’clock Athos, with his habitual exactitude, was waiting on the Pont du Louvre and was almost immediately joined by Lord de Winter.
They waited ten minutes and then his lordship began to fear Aramis was not coming to join them.
“Patience,” said Athos, whose eyes were fixed in the direction of the Rue du Bac, “patience; I see an abbe cuffing a man, then bowing to a woman; it must be Aramis.”
It was indeed Aramis. Having run against a young shopkeeper who was gaping at the crows and who had splashed him, Aramis with one blow of his fist had distanced him ten paces.
At this moment one of his penitents passed, and as she was young and pretty Aramis took off his cap to her with his most gracious smile.
A most affectionate greeting, as one can well believe took place between him and Lord de Winter.
“Where are we going?” inquired Aramis; “are we going to fight, perchance? I carry no sword this morning and cannot return home to procure one.”
“No,” said Lord de Winter, “we are going to pay a visit to Her Majesty the Queen of England.”
“Oh, very well,” replied Aramis; then bending his face down to Athos’s ear, “what is the object of this visit?” continued he.
“Nay, I know
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