The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (ebook reader 7 inch txt) đ
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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DâArtagnan, in fact, heard a great noise on the side next the cellar. He rose, and preceded by the host wringing his hands, and followed by Planchet with his musketoon ready for use, he approached the scene of action.
The two gentlemen were exasperated; they had had a long ride, and were dying with hunger and thirst.
âBut this is tyranny!â cried one of them, in very good French, though with a foreign accent, âthat this madman will not allow these good people access to their own wine! Nonsense, let us break open the door, and if he is too far gone in his madness, well, we will kill him!â
âSoftly, gentlemen!â said dâArtagnan, drawing his pistols from his belt, âyou will kill nobody, if you please!â
âGood, good!â cried the calm voice of Athos, from the other side of the door, âlet them just come in, these devourers of little children, and we shall see!â
Brave as they appeared to be, the two English gentlemen looked at each other hesitatingly. One might have thought there was in that cellar one of those famished ogres--the gigantic heroes of popular legends, into whose cavern nobody could force their way with impunity.
There was a moment of silence; but at length the two Englishmen felt ashamed to draw back, and the angrier one descended the five or six steps which led to the cellar, and gave a kick against the door enough to split a wall.
âPlanchet,â said dâArtagnan, cocking his pistols, âI will take charge of the one at the top; you look to the one below. Ah, gentlemen, you want battle; and you shall have it.â
âGood God!â cried the hollow voice of Athos, âI can hear dâArtagnan, I think.â
âYes,â cried dâArtagnan, raising his voice in turn, âI am here, my friend.â
âAh, good, then,â replied Athos, âwe will teach them, these door breakers!â
The gentlemen had drawn their swords, but they found themselves taken between two fires. They still hesitated an instant; but, as before, pride prevailed, and a second kick split the door from bottom to top.
âStand on one side, dâArtagnan, stand on one side,â cried Athos. âI am going to fire!â
âGentlemen,â exclaimed dâArtagnan, whom reflection never abandoned, âgentlemen, think of what you are about. Patience, Athos! You are running your heads into a very silly affair; you will be riddled. My lackey and I will have three shots at you, and you will get as many from the cellar. You will then have our swords, with which, I can assure you, my friend and I can play tolerably well. Let me conduct your business and my own. You shall soon have something to drink; I give you my word.â
âIf there is any left,â grumbled the jeering voice of Athos.
The host felt a cold sweat creep down his back.
âHow! âIf there is any left!ââ murmured he.
âWhat the devil! There must be plenty left,â replied dâArtagnan. âBe satisfied of that; these two cannot have drunk all the cellar. Gentlemen, return your swords to their scabbards.â
âWell, provided you replace your pistols in your belt.â
âWillingly.â
And dâArtagnan set the example. Then, turning toward Planchet, he made him a sign to uncock his musketoon.
The Englishmen, convinced of these peaceful proceedings, sheathed their swords grumblingly. The history of Athosâs imprisonment was then related to them; and as they were really gentlemen, they pronounced the host in the wrong.
âNow, gentlemen,â said dâArtagnan, âgo up to your room again; and in ten minutes, I will answer for it, you shall have all you desire.â
The Englishmen bowed and went upstairs.
âNow I am alone, my dear Athos,â said dâArtagnan; âopen the door, I beg of you.â
âInstantly,â said Athos.
Then was heard a great noise of fagots being removed and of the groaning of posts; these were the counterscarps and bastions of Athos, which the besieged himself demolished.
An instant after, the broken door was removed, and the pale face of Athos appeared, who with a rapid glance took a survey of the surroundings.
DâArtagnan threw himself on his neck and embraced him tenderly. He then tried to draw him from his moist abode, but to his surprise he perceived that Athos staggered.
âYou are wounded,â said he.
âI! Not at all. I am dead drunk, thatâs all, and never did a man more strongly set about getting so. By the Lord, my good host! I must at least have drunk for my part a hundred and fifty bottles.â
âMercy!â cried the host, âif the lackey has drunk only half as much as the master, I am a ruined man.â
âGrimaud is a well-bred lackey. He would never think of faring in the same manner as his master; he only drank from the cask. Hark! I donât think he put the faucet in again. Do you hear it? It is running now.â
DâArtagnan burst into a laugh which changed the shiver of the host into a burning fever.
In the meantime, Grimaud appeared in his turn behind his master, with the musketoon on his shoulder, and his head shaking. Like one of those drunken satyrs in the pictures of Rubens. He was moistened before and behind with a greasy liquid which the host recognized as his best olive oil.
The four crossed the public room and proceeded to take possession of the best apartment in the house, which dâArtagnan occupied with authority.
In the meantime the host and his wife hurried down with lamps into the cellar, which had so long been interdicted to them and where a frightful spectacle awaited them.
Beyond the fortifications through which Athos had made a breach in order to get out, and which were composed of fagots, planks, and empty casks, heaped up according to all the rules of the strategic art, they found, swimming in puddles of oil and wine, the bones and fragments of all the hams they had eaten; while a heap of broken bottles filled the whole left-hand corner of the cellar, and a tun, the cock of which was left running, was yielding, by this means, the last drop of its blood. âThe image of devastation and death,â as the ancient poet says, âreigned as over a field of battle.â
Of fifty large sausages, suspended from the joists, scarcely ten remained.
Then the lamentations of the host and hostess pierced the vault of the cellar. DâArtagnan himself was moved by them. Athos did not even turn his head.
To grief succeeded rage. The host armed himself with a spit, and rushed into the chamber occupied by the two friends.
âSome wine!â said Athos, on perceiving the host.
âSome wine!â cried the stupefied host, âsome wine? Why you have drunk more than a hundred pistolesâ worth! I am a ruined man, lost, destroyed!â
âBah,â said Athos, âwe were always dry.â
âIf you had been contented with drinking, well and good; but you have broken all the bottles.â
âYou pushed me upon a heap which rolled down. That was your fault.â
âAll my oil is lost!â
âOil is a sovereign balm for wounds; and my poor Grimaud here was obliged to dress those you had inflicted on him.â
âAll my sausages are gnawed!â
âThere is an enormous quantity of rats in that cellar.â
âYou shall pay me for all this,â cried the exasperated host.
âTriple ass!â said Athos, rising; but he sank down again immediately. He had tried his strength to the utmost. DâArtagnan came to his relief with his whip in his hand.
The host drew back and burst into tears.
âThis will teach you,â said dâArtagnan, âto treat the guests God sends you in a more courteous fashion.â
âGod? Say the devil!â
âMy dear friend,â said dâArtagnan, âif you annoy us in this manner we will all four go and shut ourselves up in your cellar, and we will see if the mischief is as great as you say.â
âOh, gentlemen,â said the host, âI have been wrong. I confess it, but pardon to every sin! You are gentlemen, and I am a poor innkeeper. You will have pity on me.â
âAh, if you speak in that way,â said Athos, âyou will break my heart, and the tears will flow from my eyes as the wine flowed from the cask. We are not such devils as we appear to be. Come hither, and let us talk.â
The host approached with hesitation.
âCome hither, I say, and donât be afraid,â continued Athos. âAt the very moment when I was about to pay you, I had placed my purse on the table.â
âYes, monsieur.â
âThat purse contained sixty pistoles; where is it?â
âDeposited with the justice; they said it was bad money.â
âVery well; get me my purse back and keep the sixty pistoles.â
âBut Monseigneur knows very well that justice never lets go that which it once lays hold of. If it were bad money, there might be some hopes; but unfortunately, those were all good pieces.â
âManage the matter as well as you can, my good man; it does not concern me, the more so as I have not a livre left.â
âCome,â said dâArtagnan, âlet us inquire further. Athosâs horse, where is that?â
âIn the stable.â
âHow much is it worth?â
âFifty pistoles at most.â
âItâs worth eighty. Take it, and there ends the matter.â
âWhat,â cried Athos, âare you selling my horse--my Bajazet? And pray upon what shall I make my campaign; upon Grimaud?â
âI have brought you another,â said dâArtagnan.
âAnother?â
âAnd a magnificent one!â cried the host.
âWell, since there is another finer and younger, why, you may take the old one; and let us drink.â
âWhat?â asked the host, quite cheerful again.
âSome of that at the bottom, near the laths. There are twenty-five bottles of it left; all the rest were broken by my fall. Bring six of them.â
âWhy, this man is a cask!â said the host, aside. âIf he only remains here a fortnight, and pays for what he drinks, I shall soon re-establish my business.â
âAnd donât forget,â said dâArtagnan, âto bring up four bottles of the same sort for the two English gentlemen.â
âAnd now,â said Athos, âwhile they bring the wine, tell me, dâArtagnan, what has become of the others, come!â
DâArtagnan related how he had found Porthos in bed with a strained knee, and Aramis at a table between two theologians. As he finished, the host entered with the wine ordered and a ham which, fortunately for him, had been left out of the cellar.
âThatâs well!â said Athos, filling his glass and that of his friend; âhereâs to Porthos and Aramis! But you, dâArtagnan, what is the matter with you, and what has happened to you personally? You have a sad air.â
âAlas,â said dâArtagnan, âit is because I am the most unfortunate.â
âTell me.â
âPresently,â said dâArtagnan.
âPresently! And why presently? Because you think I am drunk? DâArtagnan, remember this! My ideas are never so clear as when I have had plenty of wine. Speak, then, I am all ears.â
DâArtagnan related his adventure with Mme. Bonacieux. Athos listened to him without a frown; and when he had finished, said, âTrifles, only trifles!â That was his favorite word.
âYou always say TRIFLES, my dear Athos!â said dâArtagnan, âand that come very ill from you, who have never loved.â
The drink-deadened eye of Athos flashed out, but only for a moment; it became as dull and vacant as before.
âThatâs true,â said he, quietly, âfor my part I have never loved.â
âAcknowledge, then, you stony heart,â said dâArtagnan, âthat you are wrong to be so hard upon us tender hearts.â
âTender hearts! Pierced hearts!â said Athos.
âWhat do you say?â
âI say that love is a lottery in which he who wins, wins death! You are very fortunate to have lost, believe me, my dear dâArtagnan.
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