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

“We are at your Eminence’s orders.”

“To horse, then, gentlemen; for it is getting late.”

The attendant was at the door, holding the cardinal’s horse by the bridle. At a short distance a group of two men and three horses appeared in the shade. These were the two men who were to conduct Milady to Fort La Pointe, and superintend her embarkation.

The attendant confirmed to the cardinal what the two musketeers had already said with respect to Athos. The cardinal made an approving gesture, and retraced his route with the same precautions he had used in coming.

Let us leave him to follow the road to the camp protected by his esquire and the two musketeers, and return to Athos.

For a hundred paces he maintained the speed at which he started; but when out of sight he turned his horse to the right, made a circuit, and came back within twenty paces of a high hedge to watch the passage of the little troop. Having recognized the laced hats of his companions and the golden fringe of the cardinal’s cloak, he waited till the horsemen had turned the angle of the road, and having lost sight of them, he returned at a gallop to the inn, which was opened to him without hesitation.

The host recognized him.

“My officer,” said Athos, “has forgotten to give a piece of very important information to the lady, and has sent me back to repair his forgetfulness.”

“Go up,” said the host; “she is still in her chamber.”

Athos availed himself of the permission, ascended the stairs with his lightest step, gained the landing, and through the open door perceived Milady putting on her hat.

He entered the chamber and closed the door behind him. At the noise he made in pushing the bolt, Milady turned round.

Athos was standing before the door, enveloped in his cloak, with his hat pulled down over his eyes. On seeing this figure, mute and immovable as a statue, Milady was frightened.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” cried she.

“Humph,” murmured Athos, “it is certainly she!”

And letting fall his cloak and raising his hat, he advanced toward Milady.

“Do you know me, Madame?” said he.

Milady made one step forward, and then drew back as if she had seen a serpent.

“So far, well,” said Athos, “I perceive you know me.”

“The Comte de la Fère!” murmured Milady, becoming exceedingly pale, and drawing back till the wall prevented her from going any farther.

“Yes, Milady,” replied Athos; “the Comte de la Fère in person, who comes expressly from the other world to have the pleasure of paying you a visit. Sit down, Madame, and let us talk, as the cardinal said.”

Milady, under the influence of inexpressible terror, sat down without uttering a word.

“You certainly are a demon sent upon the earth!” said Athos. “Your power is great, I know; but you also know that with the help of God men have often conquered the most terrible demons. You have once before thrown yourself in my path. I thought I had crushed you, Madame; but either I was deceived or hell has resuscitated you!”

Milady at these words, which recalled frightful remembrances, hung down her head with a suppressed groan.

“Yes, hell has resuscitated you,” continued Athos. “Hell has made you rich, hell has given you another name, hell has almost made you another face; but it has neither effaced the stains from your soul nor the brand from your body.”

Milady arose as if moved by a powerful spring, and her eyes flashed lightning. Athos remained sitting.

“You believed me to be dead, did you not, as I believed you to be? And the name of Athos as well concealed the Comte de la Fère, as the name Milady Clarik concealed Anne de Breuil. Was it not so you were called when your honored brother married us? Our position is truly a strange one,” continued Athos, laughing. “We have only lived up to the present time because we believed each other dead, and because a remembrance is less oppressive than a living creature, though a remembrance is sometimes devouring.”

“But,” said Milady, in a hollow, faint voice, “what brings you back to me, and what do you want with me?”

“I wish to tell you that though remaining invisible to your eyes, I have not lost sight of you.”

“You know what I have done?”

“I can relate to you, day by day, your actions from your entrance to the service of the cardinal to this evening.”

A smile of incredulity passed over the pale lips of Milady.

“Listen! It was you who cut off the two diamond studs from the shoulder of the Duke of Buckingham; it was you had the Madame Bonacieux carried off; it was you who, in love with de Wardes and thinking to pass the night with him, opened the door to M. d’Artagnan; it was you who, believing that de Wardes had deceived you, wished to have him killed by his rival; it was you who, when this rival had discovered your infamous secret, wished to have him killed in his turn by two assassins, whom you sent in pursuit of him; it was you who, finding the balls had missed their mark, sent poisoned wine with a forged letter, to make your victim believe that the wine came from his friends. In short, it was you who have but now in this chamber, seated in this chair I now fill, made an engagement with Cardinal Richelieu to cause the Duke of Buckingham to be assassinated, in exchange for the promise he has made you to allow you to assassinate d’Artagnan.”

Milady was livid.

“You must be Satan!” cried she.

“Perhaps,” said Athos; “But at all events listen well to this. Assassinate the Duke of Buckingham, or cause him to be assassinated⁠—I care very little about that! I don’t know him. Besides, he is an Englishman. But do not touch with the tip of your finger a single hair of d’Artagnan, who is a faithful friend whom I love and defend, or I swear to you by