The Three Musketeers Alexandre Dumas (best ebook reader under 100 txt) 📖

He was moderately reassured, however, by the aspect of that countenance, full of astute intelligence and affected humility. “I know he is a Gascon,” reflected he, “but he may be one for the cardinal as well as for me. Let us try him.”

“My friend,” said he, slowly, “I wish, as the son of an ancient friend⁠—for I consider this story of the lost letter perfectly true⁠—I wish, I say, in order to repair the coldness you may have remarked in my reception of you, to discover to you the secrets of our policy. The king and the cardinal are the best of friends; their apparent bickerings are only feints to deceive fools. I am not willing that a compatriot, a handsome cavalier, a brave youth, quite fit to make his way, should become the dupe of all these artifices and fall into the snare after the example of so many others who have been ruined by it. Be assured that I am devoted to both these all-powerful masters, and that my earnest endeavors have no other aim than the service of the king, and also the cardinal⁠—one of the most illustrious geniuses that France has ever produced.

“Now, young man, regulate your conduct accordingly; and if you entertain, whether from your family, your relations, or even from your instincts, any of these enmities which we see constantly breaking out against the cardinal, bid me adieu and let us separate. I will aid you in many ways, but without attaching you to my person. I hope that my frankness at least will make you my friend; for you are the only young man to whom I have hitherto spoken as I have done to you.”

Tréville said to himself: “If the cardinal has set this young fox upon me, he will certainly not have failed⁠—he, who knows how bitterly I execrate him⁠—to tell his spy that the best means of making his court to me is to rail at him. Therefore, in spite of all my protestations, if it be as I suspect, my cunning gossip will assure me that he holds his Eminence in horror.”

It, however, proved otherwise. D’Artagnan answered, with the greatest simplicity: “I came to Paris with exactly such intentions. My father advised me to stoop to nobody but the king, the cardinal, and yourself⁠—whom he considered the first three personages in France.”

D’Artagnan added M. de Tréville to the others, as may be perceived; but he thought this addition would do no harm.

“I have the greatest veneration for the cardinal,” continued he, “and the most profound respect for his actions. So much the better for me, sir, if you speak to me, as you say, with frankness⁠—for then you will do me the honor to esteem the resemblance of our opinions; but if you have entertained any doubt, as naturally you may, I feel that I am ruining myself by speaking the truth. But I still trust you will not esteem me the less for it, and that is my object beyond all others.”

M. de Tréville was surprised to the greatest degree. So much penetration, so much frankness, created admiration, but did not entirely remove his suspicions. The more this young man was superior to others, the more he was to be dreaded if he meant to deceive him. Nevertheless, he pressed d’Artagnan’s hand, and said to him: “You are an honest youth; but at the present moment I can only do for you that which I just now offered. My hotel will be always open to you. Hereafter, being able to ask for me at all hours, and consequently to take advantage of all opportunities, you will probably obtain that which you desire.”

“That is to say,” replied d’Artagnan, “that you will wait until I have proved myself worthy of it. Well, be assured,” added he, with the familiarity of a Gascon, “you shall not wait long.” And he bowed in order to retire, and as if he considered the future in his own hands.

“But wait a minute,” said M. de Tréville, stopping him. “I promised you a letter for the director of the Academy. Are you too proud to accept it, young gentleman?”

“No, sir,” said d’Artagnan; “and I will guard it so carefully that I will be sworn it shall arrive at its address, and woe be to him who shall attempt to take it from me!”

M. de Tréville smiled at this flourish; and leaving his young man compatriot in the embrasure of the window, where they had talked together, he seated himself at a table in order to write the promised letter of recommendation. While he was doing this, d’Artagnan, having no better employment, amused himself with beating a march upon the window and with looking at the musketeers, who went away, one after another, following them with his eyes until they disappeared.

M. de Tréville, after having written the letter, sealed it, and rising, approached the young man in order to give it to him. But at the very moment when d’Artagnan stretched out his hand to receive it, M. de Tréville was highly astonished to see his protégé make a sudden spring, become crimson with passion, and rush from the cabinet crying, “S’blood, he shall not escape me this time!”

“And who?” asked M. de Tréville.

“He, my thief!” replied d’Artagnan. “Ah, the traitor!” and he disappeared.

“The devil take the madman!” murmured M. de Tréville, “unless,” added he, “this is a cunning mode of escaping, seeing that he had failed in his purpose!”

IV The Shoulder of Athos, the Baldric of Porthos and the Handkerchief of Aramis

D’Artagnan, in a state of fury, crossed the antechamber at three bounds, and was darting toward the stairs, which he reckoned upon descending four at a time, when, in his heedless course, he ran head foremost against a musketeer who was coming out of one of M. de Tréville’s private rooms, and striking his shoulder violently, made him utter a cry, or rather a howl.

“Excuse me,” said d’Artagnan, endeavoring to resume his course, “excuse me, but I