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gendered by the possession of two hundred and nineteen louis*


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made in a quarter of an hour, when a voice was heard at the
door of the hall, which made him stir.

"M. d*Artagnan!" it cried.

"Here!" cried Porthos, "here!"

Porthos foresaw that if d'Artagnan was called away he
should remain sole possessor of the bed. An oflScer ap-

"I am come to fetch you, M. d'Artagnan, to his Eminence."

"Tell my lord that I am going to sleep, and I advise him, as
a friend, to do the same."

"His Eminence is not gone to bed, and will not go to bed,
and wants you instantly."

"The devil take Mazarin, who does not know when to sleep
at the proper time. What does he want with me? Is it to make
me a captain? In that case I forgive him."

And the Musketeer arose, grumbling, took his sword, hat,
pistols and cloak, and followed the officer, whilst Porthos,
alone, and sole possessor of the bed, endeavored to follow
the good example of falling asleep, which his predecessor had
set him.

"M. d'Artagnan," said the Cardinal, on perceiving him, "I
have not forgotten with what zeal you have served me. I am
going to prove to you that I have not."

"Good," thought the Gascon, "this begins well."

"M. d'Artagnan," he resumed, "do you wish to become a
captain ?"

*Tes, my lord."

"And your friend still wishes to be made a baron?"

"At this moment, my lord, he's dreaming that he is one."

"Then," said Mazarin, taking from his portfolio the letter
which he had already shown d'Artagnan, "take this despatch,
and carry it to England."

D'Artagnan looked at the envelope, there was no address on it.

"Am I not to know to whom to present it?"

"You will know when you reach London; at London yott
may tear off the outer envelope."

"And what are my instructions?"

"To obey, in every particular, him to whom this letter is ad-
dressed. You must set out for Boulogne. At the *Royal Arms
of England* you will find a young gentleman, named Mor-

"Yes, my lord; and what am I to do with this young gentle-
man ?"

"To follow wherever he leads you."

D'Artagnan looked at the Cardinal with a stupefied air.

"There are your instructions," said Mazarin; "go!"

"Go! 'tis easy to say so, but that requires money, and I
haven't any."

"Ah!" replied Mazarin, "so you've no money?"

"None, my lord."


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"But the diamond I gave you yesterday?"

"I wish to keep it in remembrance of your Eminence."

Mazarin sighed.

" Tis very dear living in England, my lord, especially as en-
voy extraordinary."

"Zounds!" replied Mazarin, "the people there are very sober,
and their habits, since the revolution, simple ; but no matter."

He opened a drawer, and took out a purse.

"What do you say to a thousand crowns?"

lyArtagnan pouted out his lower lip in a most extraordinary

"I reply, my lord, 'tis but little, as I certainly shall not go

"I suppose not. M. du Vallon, that worthy gentleman, for,
with the exception of yourself, M. d'Artagnan, there's not a
man in France, that I esteem and love so much as him ''

"Then, my lord," replied d*Artagnan, pointing to the purse
which Mazarin still held, "if you love and esteem him so much,
you — understand me?"

"Be it so ! on his account I add two hundred crowns."

"Scoundrel!" muttered d'Artagnan; "but on our return," he
said aloud, "may we, that is, my friend and I, depend on hav-
ing, he his barony, and I my promotion?"

"On the honor of Mazarin." *

"I should like another sort of oath better," said d'Artagnan
to himself; then aloud, "May I not offer my duty to her majesty
the Queen?"

"Her majesty is asleep, and you must set off directly," re-
plied Mazarin, "go, pray, sir "

"One word more, my lord; if there's any fighting where I'm
going, ought I to fight?"

"You are to obey the commands of the personage to whom
I have addressed the enclosed letter."

"'Tis well," said d'Artagnan, holding out his hand to re-
ceive the money. **I offer my best respects and services to
you, my lord."

D'Artagnan then, returning to the officer, said:

"Sir, have the kindness also to awaken M. du Vallon, and
to say 'tis by his Eminence's orders, and that I shall wait for
him in the stables."

The ofiicer went off with an eagerness that showed the Gascon
that he had some personal interest in the matter.

Porthos was snoring most musically, when some one touched
him on the shoulder.

"I come from the Cardinal," said the officer.

"Heigho!" said Porthos, opening his large eyes; "what do
you say?"

"I say that his Eminence has ordered you to go to England,
and that M. d'Artagnan is waiting for you in the stables."

Porthos sighed heavily, arose, took his hat, his pistols, and


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his cloak, and departed, casting a look of regret on the bed
where he had hoped to sleep so well.

Scarcely had he turned his back than the officer laid hini-
self down in it, and he had not crossed the threshold before his
successor, in his turn, snored immoderately. It was very
natural, being the only man in the whole assemblage, except
the King, the Queen, and the Duke of Orleans, who slept



D'Artagnan went straight to the stables; day had just
dawned. He found his horse and that of Porthos fastened
to the manger, but to an empty manger. He took pity on
these poor animals, and went to a corner of the stable, where
he saw a little straw, but in doing so he struck his foot against
a round ^ body, which uttered a cry, and arose on its knees,
rubbing its eyes. It was Mousqueton, who, having no straw to
lie upon himself, had helped himself to that of the horses.

"Mousqueton," cried d'Artagnan, "let us be off! Let us
set off."

Mousqueton, recognizing the voice of his master's friend,
got up suddenly, and in doing so, let fall some louis which he
had appropriated to himself illegally during the night.

**HoI ho!" exclaimed d'Artagnan, picking up a louis and
displaying it; "here's a louis that smells of straw a little."

Mousqueton blushed so confusedly that the Gascon began
to laugh at him, and said:

"Porthos would be angry, my dear M. Mouston, but I par-
don you, only let us remember that this gold must serve us
as a joke, so be gay, come along."

Mousqueton instantly^ assumed a most jovial countenance,
saddled the horses quickly, and mounted his own without
making faces over it.

Whilst this went on, Porthos arrived with a very cross
look on his face, and was astonished to find the lieutenant re-
signed, and Mousqueton almost merry.

"Ah, that's it," he cried, "you have your promotion, and I
my barony."

"We are going to fetch our brevets," said d'Artagnan, "and
when we come back, Master Mazarin will sign them."

"And where are we going?" asked Porthos.

"To Paris first; I have affairs to settle."

And they both set out for Paris.

In the place of the Palais Royal d'Artagnan saw a sergeant
who was drilling six or seven hundred citizens. It was Plan-


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chet, who brought into play profitably the recollections of
the regiment. He recognized his old master, and, staring at
him with wondering eyes, stood still. The first row, seeing
their sergeant stop, stopped, and soon to the very last

"These citizens are awfully ridiculous," observed d'Artag-
nan to Porthos, and went on his way.

Five minutes afterwards he entered the hotel of La Chev-
rette, where pretty Madeleine, the hostess, came to him.

"My dear Mistress Turquaine," said the Gascon, "if you
happen to have any money, lock it up quickly — if you hap-
pen to have any jewels, hide them directly — ^if you happen to
have any debtors, make them' pay you, or have any creditors,
don't pay them."

"Why, prythee?" asked Madeleine.

"Because Paris is going to be reduced to dust and ashes
like Babylon, of which you have heard speak."

"And you are going to leave at such a time?"

"This very instant."

"And where are you going?"

"Ah, if you could tell me that, you'd be doing me a service."

"Ah, goodness gracious!"

"Have you any letters for me?" inquired d'Artagnan, wish-
ing to signify to the hostess that her lamentations were su-
perfluous, and that therefore she had better spare him the
demonstrations of her grief.

"There's one just arrived."

"From Athos;" and he read as follows:

** 'Dear d'artagnan, dear du Vallon — My good friends,
perhaps this may be the last time that you ever hear from
me. Let God, our courage, and the remembrance of our
friendship, support you, nevertheless. I entrust to you cer-
tain papers which are at Blois, and in two months and a half,
if you do not hear of us, take possession of them.

"Embrace, with all your heart, the viscount, for your de-
voted friend, " *Athos.'

**I believe, by Heaven," said d'Artagnan, "that I shall emr-
brace him, since he's upon our road; and if he is so unfortu-
nate as to lose our dear Athos, from this very day he becomes
my son."

"And I," said Porthos, "shall make him my sole heir."

"Let us see, what more does Athos say?"

" * Should you meet on your journey one, Mor daunt, distrust
him— in a letter I cannot say more.* "

"M. Mordaunt!" exclaimed the Gascon, surprised.

"M. Mordaunt! *tis well," said Porthos; "we shall remember
that; but look, there's a postscript."

" *We conceal the place where we are, dear friend, knowing


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your brotherly affection, and that you would come and die
with us were we to reveal it/ "

"Confound it," interrupted Porthos, with an explosion of
passion which sent Mousqueton to the other end oi the room;
"are they in danger of death?"

D'Artagnan continued:

** 'Athos bequeaths to you Raoul, and I bequeath to you my
revenge. If by any good luck you lay your hand on a fellow,
named Mordaunt, tell Porthos to take him into a corner, and
to wring his neck. I dare not say more in a letter.* "

"If that is all, Aramis, it is easily done," said Porthos.

"On the contrary," observed d'Artagnan, with a vexed look;
**it would be\impossible. This is the same Mordaunt, whom we
are going to join at Boulogne, and with whom we cross to

"Well, suppose instead of joining this Mordaunt, we were
to go and join our friends?" said Porthos, with a gesture fit to
frighten a whole army.

"I did think of it, but this letter has neither date nor post-

"True," said Porthos. And he began to wander about the
room like a man beside himself, gesticulating, and half draw-
ing his sword out of the scabbard.

As to d'Artagnan, he remained standing like a man in con-
sternation, with the deepest affliction depicted on his face.

"Ah, 'tis not right; Athos insults us, he wishes to die alone;
that's bad."

Mousqueton, witnessing this despair, melted into tears, in a
comer of the room,

"Stop— an idea!" cried Porthos; "indeed, my dear d'Ar-
tagnan, I don't know how you manage, but you are always full
of ideas; let us go and embrace Raoul."

"Woe to that man who should happen to contradict my
master at this moment," said Mousqueton to himself; "I
wouldn't give a farthing for his skin."

They set out. On arriving at St. Denis, the friends found
a vast concourse of people. It was the Duke de Beaufort who
was coming from the Vendomois, and whom the Coadjutor
was showing to the Parisians, intoxicated with joy. ^ With
the duke's aid, they considered themselves already as invincible.

"Is it true," said the guard to the two cavaliers, "that the
Duke de Beaufort has arrived in Paris?"

"Nothing more certain; and the best proof of it is," said
d'Artagnan, "that he has despatched us to meet the Duke
de Vendomee, his father, who is coming in his turn."

"Long live de Beaufort!" cried the guards, and they drew
back respectfully to let the two friends pass. Once past the
barriers, these two knew neither fatigue nor fear. Their horses
flew, and they never ceased speaking of Athos and Aramis.

Jh^ camp had ^nt^red Saint Omer; the friends made a little


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round, and went to the camp, and gave the army an exact
account of the flight of the King and Queen. They fotjnd
Raoul near his tent, reclining upon a truss of hay, of which
his horse stole some mouthfuls; the young man's eyes were
red, and he seemed dejected. Marshal de Grammont and the
Duke de Guiche had returned to IParis, and he was quite lon^y.
As soon as he saw the two cavaliers, he ran to them with open

"Oh is it you, dear friends? Do you come here to fetch
me? Shall you take me away with you? Do you bring me
tidings of my guardian?"

"Have you not received any?" said d'Artagnan to the youth.

**Alas! sir, no, and I do not know what has become of him;
so that I am really so unhappy as to weep."

In fact, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Porthos turned aside, in order not to show on his good,
round face what was passing in his mind.

"Deuce take it," cried d'Artagnan, more moved than he had
been for a long timie; "don't despair, my friend, if you have
not received any letters from the count, we have received one."

"Oh, really!" cried Raoul.

"And a comforting one, too," added d'Artagnan, seeing the
delight that his intelligence gave the young man.

"Have you got it?" asked Raoul.

"Yes, that is, I had it," replied the Gascon, making believe
to try and find it. "Wait, it ought to be there, in my pocket ;
it speaks of his return, does it not, Porthos?"

"Yes," replied Porthos, laughing.

"Eh! I read it a little while since. Can I have lost it? Ah!
confound it! my pocket has a hole in it."

"Oh, yes, M. Raoul!" said Mousqueton; "the letter was very
consoling. These gentlemen read it to me, and I wept for joy."

"But then, at any rate, you know where he is, M. d'Artag-
nan?" asked Raoul, somewhat comforted.

"Ah! that's the point!" replied the Gascon. "Undoubtedly I
know it, but it is a mystery."

''Not to me, I hope?"

"No, not to you, so I am going to tell you where he is."

Porthos looked at d'Artagnan with his large, wondering eyes.

"Where the devil shall I say that he is, so that he cannot
try to rejoin him?" thought d'Artagnan.

"Well, where is he, sir?" asked Raoul, in a soft and coax-
ing voice.

"He is at Constantinople."

"Among the Turks! exclaimed Raoul, alarmed. "Good
heavens! how can you tell me that?"

"Does that alarm you?" cried d'Artagnan. "Pooh! what
are the Turks to such a man a$ the Count de la Fere 9nd the
Abbe d'Herblay?"


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"Ah, his friend is with him!'' said Raoul; "that consoles me
a little/'

"What wit our devilish d'Artagnan has!" thought Porthos,
astonished at his friend's deceptiveness.

"Now," said d'Artagnan, wishing to change the conversa-
tion, "here are fifty pistoles that the count has sent you by
the same courier. I suppose you are out of money, and that
they will be welcome."

"I have still twenty pistoles, sir."

"Well, take them; that makes seventy."

"And if you wish for more " said Porthos, putting his

hand to his pocket. *

"Thank you, sir," replied Raoul, blushing; "thank you a
thousand times."

At thi» moment Olivain appeared. "By the way," said d'Ar-
tagnan, loud enough for the servant to hear him, "are you sat-
isfied with Olivain?"

"Yes, in some respects, pretty well."

"What fault do you find with the fellow?"

"He is a glutton."

"Oh, sir," cried Olivain, reappearing at this accusation.

"And somewhat of a thief, more especially a great coward."

"Oh, oh, sir ! you really vilify me !" cried Olivain.

"The deuce!" cried d'Artagnan. "Pray learn, Olivain, that
people like us are not_ to be served by cowards. You rob
your master; you eat his sweetmeats and drink his wine; but,
by Jove ! don't be a coward, or I shall cut off your ears. Look
at M. Houston, see the honorable wounds he has received,
and look how his habitual valor has given dignity to his coun-

Mousqueton was in the third Heaven, and would have em-
braced d'Artagnan had he dared; meanwhile, he resolved to
sacrifice his life to him on the next occasion that presented

"Send away that fellow, Raoul," said the Gascon; "for if
he's a coward he will disgrace thee some day."

"Master says I am a coward," cried Olivain, "because he
wanted the other day to fight a cornet in Grammont's regi-
ment, and I refused to accompany him."

"Olivain, a lackey ought never to disobey," said d'Artagnan,
sternly; then, taking him aside, he whispered to him, "You.
did right; your master was wrong; here's a crown; but should
he ever be insulted, and you do not let yourself be cut in
quarters for him, I will cut out your tongue. Remember that

Olivain bowed, and slipped the crown into his pocket.

"And now, Raoul," said the Gascon, "M. du Vallon and I
are going away as ambassadors, where, I know not; but
should you want anything, write to Mdme. Turquaine, at


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Nanny-goat, Rue Tiquetonne, and draw upon her money as
on a banker, but with economy."

And having, meantime, embraced his ward, he passed him
into the robust arms of Porthos, who lifted him up from the
ground and held him a moment suspended, near the noble
heart of the formidable giant.

**Come," said d'Artagnan, "let us be off."

And they set out for Boulogne, where, towards evening, they
arrived, their horses covered with foam and heat.

At ten steps from the place where they halted was a young
man in black, who seemed waiting for some one, and who,
from the moment he saw them enter the town, never took his
eyes off them.

D'Artagnan approached him, and seeing him stare so fix-
edly, said:

"Well, friend! I don't like people who scan me!"

"Sir," said the young man, "do you not come from Paris, if
you please?"

D'Artagnan thought it was some gossip who wanted news
from the capital.

"Yes," he said in a softened tone.

"Are you not to lodge at the 'Arms of England?* and are
you not charged with a mission from his Eminence, Cardinal

"Yes, sir."

"In that case I am the man you have to deal with. I am M.

"Ah!" thought d'Artagnan, "the man I am warned against
by Athos."

"Ah!" thought Porthos, "the man Aramis wants me to

"Well, gentlemen," resumed Mordaunt, "we must set off
without delay J to-day is the last day granted me by the Car-
dinal. Mjr ship is ready, and had you not come, I must have
set off without you, for General Cromwell expects my return,

"So!" thought the lieutenant, "'tis to General Cromwell that
our despatches are addressed."

"Have you no letter to him?" asked the young man.

"I have one, the seal of which I was not to break till I
reached London; but since you tell me to whom it is addressed,
'tis useless to wait till then."

lyArtagnan tore open the envelope of the letter. It was
directed to "Mr. Oliver Cromwell, General of the army of the
English nation."

"Ah!" said d'Artagnan, "a singular commission."

"Who is Oliver Cromwell?" asked Porthos.

"Formerly a brewer," replied the Gascon.

"Perhaps Mazarin wishes to make a comer in beer, as we
have in straw," said Porthos.


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"Come, come, gentlemen," said Mordaunt impatiently, "let
us depart."

"What!" cried Porthos, "without supper? Cannot M. Crom-
well wait a little?"

"Yes, but how about me?" answered Mordaunt.

"Oh ! as to you, that is not my^ concern, and I shall sup
either with or without your permission."

"The young man's dull eyes kindled a little, but he restrained

"Just as you please, gentlemen, provided we set sail," he

"The name of your ship?" inquired d'Artagnan.

"The Standard:'

"Very well; in half an hour we shall be on board." And
the friends, spurring on their horses, rode to the hotel, the
"Arms of England,' where they supped with hearty appetite,
and then at once proceeded to the port

There th^r found a brig ready to set sail, upon the deck of
which they recognized Mordaunt, walking up and down im-

"It is singular," said d'Artagnan, whilst the boat was taking
them to the. Standard, "it is astonishing how that young man
resembles some one whom I have known, but whom I cannot

A few minutes later they were on board; but the embark-
ation of the horses was a longer matter than that of the men,
and it was eight o'clock before they raised the anchor.


The foresworn Scot

Sold his master for a groat.

And now our readers must leave the Standard to sail peace-
ably, not to London, where d'Artagnan and Porthos believed
they were going, but to Durham, whither Mordaunt had been
ordered to repair by the letter he had received during his so-
journ at Boulogne, and accompany us to the Royalist camp,
on this side of the Tyne, near Newcastle.

There, placed between two rivers on the borders of Scot-
land, but still on English soil, were the tents of a little army
extended. It was midnight. Some Highlanders were care-
lessly keeping watch. The moon, which was partially obscured
by two heavy clouds, now and then lit up the muskets of the
sentinels, or silvered the walls, roofs, and spires of the town
which Charles I. had just surrendered to the Parliamentary
troops, whilst Oxford and Newark still held out for him, in
the. hopes of coming to some arrangement.


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At one of the extremities of the camp, near an immense
tent, in which the Scottish officers were holding a kind of
council, presided over by Lord Leven, lay their commander,
a man attired as a cavalier, sleeping on the turf, his right
hand extended over his sword.

About fifty paces off, another young man, also apparelled
as a cavalier, was talking to a Scotch sentinel, and, though
a foreigner, he seemed to understand, without much difficulty,
the answers given him in broad Perthshire dialect.

As the town clock of Newcastle struck one the sleeper awoke,
and, with all the gestures of a man rousing himself out of a
deep sleep, he looked attentively about him. Perceiving that he
was alone, he rose, and making a little circuit, passed close
to the young man who was speaking to the sentinel. The
former had, no doubt, finished his questions, for a moment
after he said good-night, and carelessly followed the same path
taken by the first cavalier.

In the shadow of a tent the former was awaiting him.

**Well, friend,*' said he, in as pure French as has ever been
uttered between Rouen and Tours,^ "there is not a moment
to lose ; we must let the King know immediately."

"Why, what is the matter?"

"It is too long to tell you; besides, you wish to hear it all
directly, and the least word dropped here might ruin all. We
must go and find Lord Winter."

They both set off to the other end of the camp, but as it
did not cover more than a surface of five hundred feet, they
quickly arrived at the tent they were looking for.

"Tony, is your master sleeping?" said one of the two cava-
liers, to a servant who was lying in the outer compartment,
which served as a kind of ante-room.

"No, my lord Count," answered the servant, "I think not;
or at least, he was pacing up and down for more than two
hours after he left the King, and the sound of his footsteps
has only ceased during the last ten minutes ; however, you may
look and see," added the lackey, raising the curtained entrance
of the tent.

As he had said. Lord Winter was seated near an aperture,
arranged as a window to let in the night air, his eyes mechanic-
ally following the course of the moon, hidden, as we before
observed, by heavy black clouds. The two friends approached
Winter, who, leaning his head on his hands, was gazing at the
heavens ; he did not hear them enter, and remained in the same
attitude till he felt a hand placed on his shoulder.

He turned round, recognized Athos and Aramis, and held
out his hand to them.

"Have you observed,** said he to them, **what a blood-red
color the moon is to-night?"

"In a position so precarious as ours, we must examine the


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earth, and not the heavens. Have you studied our Scotch
troops, and have you confidence in them?*'

"The Scotch?" inquired Winter. "What Scotch?"

"Ours! Egad!" exclaimed Athos. "Those in whom; the
King confides. Lord Leven's Highlanders."

"No," said Winter, then he paused; "but tell me can you not
perceive the roseate tint which covers the heavens?"

"Not the least in the world," said Aramis and Athos at once.

Online LibraryAlexandre DumasTwenty years after → online text (page 24 of 38)