The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (to read list txt) 📕
Description
The Three Musketeers is the first of three adventure novels written by Alexandre Dumas featuring the character of d’Artagnan.
The young d’Artagnan leaves home in Gascony for Paris to join the King’s Musketeers. On his way to Paris, the letter which will introduce him to the commander of the Musketeers is stolen by a mysterious man in the town of Meung. This “Man of Meung” turns out to be a confidant of the infamous Cardinal Richelieu, the chief minister of the government of France.
When he arrives in Paris and seeks an audience with the commander of the Musketeers, d’Artagnan sees this man again and rushes to confront him. As he pushes his way out he provokes three inseparable musketeers—Athos, Porthos and Aramis—and ends up setting up duels with all three of them that afternoon. At the first of the duels he discovers, to his surprise, that each of the three is a second to the other. As they start to fight, they are ambushed by the Cardinal’s men and join forces. So begins one of the most enduring partnerships in literature.
When d’Artagnan’s landlord tells him that his wife has been kidnapped, d’Artagnan investigates, falls in love and becomes embroiled in a plot to destabilize France.
The Three Musketeers was first published in 1844 and has been adapted for stage, film, television, and animation many times; such is the endurance of its appeal. At its heart is a fast-paced tale of love and adventure.
Read free book «The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (to read list txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
Read book online «The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (to read list txt) 📕». Author - Alexandre Dumas
The answer was terrible. Anne of Austria believed that Louis XIII knew all, and that the cardinal had persuaded him to employ this long dissimulation of seven or eight days, which, likewise, was characteristic. She became excessively pale, leaned her beautiful hand upon a console, which hand appeared then like one of wax, and looking at the king with terror in her eyes, she was unable to reply by a single syllable.
“You hear, Madame,” said the king, who enjoyed the embarrassment to its full extent, but without guessing the cause. “You hear, Madame?”
“Yes, sire, I hear,” stammered the queen.
“You will appear at this ball?”
“Yes.”
“With those studs?”
“Yes.”
The queen’s paleness, if possible, increased; the king perceived it, and enjoyed it with that cold cruelty which was one of the worst sides of his character.
“Then that is agreed,” said the king, “and that is all I had to say to you.”
“But on what day will this ball take place?” asked Anne of Austria.
Louis XIII felt instinctively that he ought not to reply to this question, the queen having put it in an almost dying voice.
“Oh, very shortly, Madame,” said he; “but I do not precisely recollect the date of the day. I will ask the cardinal.”
“It was the cardinal, then, who informed you of this fête?”
“Yes, Madame,” replied the astonished king; “but why do you ask that?”
“It was he who told you to invite me to appear with these studs?”
“That is to say, Madame—”
“It was he, sire, it was he!”
“Well, and what does it signify whether it was he or I? Is there any crime in this request?”
“No, sire.”
“Then you will appear?”
“Yes, sire.”
“That is well,” said the king, retiring, “that is well; I count upon it.”
The queen made a curtsy, less from etiquette than because her knees were sinking under her. The king went away enchanted.
“I am lost,” murmured the queen, “lost!—for the cardinal knows all, and it is he who urges on the king, who as yet knows nothing but will soon know everything. I am lost! My God, my God, my God!”
She knelt upon a cushion and prayed, with her head buried between her palpitating arms.
In fact, her position was terrible. Buckingham had returned to London; Madame de Chevreuse was at Tours. More closely watched than ever, the queen felt certain, without knowing how to tell which, that one of her women had betrayed her. Laporte could not leave the Louvre; she had not a soul in the world in whom she could confide. Thus, while contemplating the misfortune which threatened her and the abandonment in which she was left, she broke out into sobs and tears.
“Can I be of service to your Majesty?” said all at once a voice full of sweetness and pity.
The queen turned sharply round, for there could be no deception in the expression of that voice; it was a friend who spoke thus.
In fact, at one of the doors which opened into the queen’s apartment appeared the pretty Madame Bonacieux. She had been engaged in arranging the dresses and linen in a closet when the king entered; she could not get out and had heard all.
The queen uttered a piercing cry at finding herself surprised—for in her trouble she did not at first recognize the young woman who had been given to her by Laporte.
“Oh, fear nothing, Madame!” said the young woman, clasping her hands and weeping herself at the queen’s sorrows; “I am your Majesty’s, body and soul, and however far I may be from you, however inferior may be my position, I believe I have discovered a means of extricating your Majesty from your trouble.”
“You, oh, heaven, you!” cried the queen; “but look me in the face. I am betrayed on all sides. Can I trust in you?”
“Oh, Madame!” cried the young woman, falling on her knees; “upon my soul, I am ready to die for your Majesty!”
This expression sprang from the very bottom of the heart, and, like the first, there was no mistaking it.
“Yes,” continued Madame Bonacieux, “yes, there are traitors here; but by the holy name of the Virgin, I swear that no one is more devoted to your Majesty than I am. Those studs which the king speaks of, you gave them to the Duke of Buckingham, did you not? Those studs were enclosed in a little rosewood box which he held under his arm? Am I deceived? Is it not so, Madame?”
“Oh, my God, my God!” murmured the queen, whose teeth chattered with fright.
“Well, those studs,” continued Madame Bonacieux, “we must have them back again.”
“Yes, without doubt, it is necessary,” cried the queen; “but how am I to act? How can it be effected?”
“Someone must be sent to the duke.”
“But who, who? In whom can I trust?”
“Place confidence in me, Madame; do me that honor, my queen, and I will find a messenger.”
“But I must write.”
“Oh, yes; that is indispensable. Two words from the hand of your Majesty and your private seal.”
“But these two words would bring about my condemnation, divorce, exile!”
“Yes, if they fell into infamous hands. But I will answer for these two words being delivered to their address.”
“Oh, my God! I must then place my life, my honor, my reputation, in your hands?”
“Yes, yes, Madame, you must; and I will save them all.”
“But how? Tell me at least the means.”
“My husband had been at liberty these two or three days. I have not yet had time to see him again. He is a worthy, honest man who entertains neither love nor hatred for anybody. He will do anything I wish. He will set out upon receiving an order from me, without knowing what he carries, and he will carry your Majesty’s letter, without even knowing it is from your Majesty, to the address which is on it.”
The queen took the two
Comments (0)