The D'Artagnan Romances - Complete Series (All 6 Books in One Edition). Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
the disappearance of the moneybag, and was crying “Thieves!”
“Oh, my God!” cried Mme. Bonacieux, “he will rouse the whole quarter.”
Bonacieux called a long time; but as such cries, on account of their frequency, brought nobody in the Rue des Fossoyeurs, and as lately the mercer’s house had a bad name, finding that nobody came, he went out continuing to call, his voice being heard fainter and fainter as he went in the direction of the Rue du Bac.
“Now he is gone, it is your turn to get out,” said Mme. Bonacieux. “Courage, my friend, but above all, prudence, and think what you owe to the queen.”
“To her and to you!” cried d’Artagnan. “Be satisfied, beautiful Constance. I shall become worthy of her gratitude; but shall I likewise return worthy of your love?”
The young woman only replied by the beautiful glow which mounted to her cheeks. A few seconds afterward d’Artagnan also went out enveloped in a large cloak, which ill-concealed the sheath of a long sword.
Mme. Bonacieux followed him with her eyes, with that long, fond look with which he had turned the angle of the street, she fell on her knees, and clasping her hands, “Oh, my God,” cried she, “protect the queen, protect me!”
Chapter 19 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN
D’Artagnan went straight to M. de Treville’s. He had reflected that in a few minutes the cardinal would be warned by this cursed stranger, who appeared to be his agent, and he judged, with reason, he had not a moment to lose.
The heart of the young man overflowed with joy. An opportunity presented itself to him in which there would be at the same time glory to be acquired, and money to be gained; and as a far higher encouragement, it brought him into close intimacy with a woman he adored. This chance did, then, for him at once more than he would have dared to ask of Providence.
M. de Treville was in his saloon with his habitual court of gentlemen. D’Artagnan, who was known as a familiar of the house, went straight to his office, and sent word that he wished to see him on something of importance.
D’Artagnan had been there scarcely five minutes when M. de Treville entered. At the first glance, and by the joy which was painted on his countenance, the worthy captain plainly perceived that something new was on foot.
All the way along d’Artagnan had been consulting with himself whether he should place confidence in M. de Treville, or whether he should only ask him to give him CARTE BLANCHE for some secret affair. But M. de Treville had always been so thoroughly his friend, had always been so devoted to the king and queen, and hated the cardinal so cordially, that the young man resolved to tell him everything.
“Did you ask for me, my good friend?” said M. de Treville.
“Yes, monsieur,” said d’Artagnan, lowering his voice, “and you will pardon me, I hope, for having disturbed you when you know the importance of my business.”
“Speak, then, I am all attention.”
“It concerns nothing less,” said d’Artagnan, “than the honor, perhaps the life of the queen.”
“What did you say?” asked M. de Treville, glancing round to see if they were surely alone, and then fixing his questioning look upon d’Artagnan.
“I say, monsieur, that chance has rendered me master of a secret—”
“Which you will guard, I hope, young man, as your life.”
“But which I must impart to you, monsieur, for you alone can assist me in the mission I have just received from her Majesty.”
“Is this secret your own?”
“No, monsieur; it is her Majesty’s.”
“Are you authorized by her Majesty to communicate it to me?”
“No, monsieur, for, on the contrary, I am desired to preserve the profoundest mystery.”
“Why, then, are you about to betray it to me?”
“Because, as I said, without you I can do nothing; and I am afraid you will refuse me the favor I come to ask if you do not know to what end I ask it.”
“Keep your secret, young man, and tell me what you wish.”
“I wish you to obtain for me, from Monsieur Dessessart, leave of absence for fifteen days.”
“When?”
“This very night.”
“You leave Paris?”
“I am going on a mission.”
“May you tell me whither?”
“To London.”
“Has anyone an interest in preventing your arrival there?”
“The cardinal, I believe, would give the world to prevent my success.”
“And you are going alone?”
“I am going alone.”
“In that case you will not get beyond Bondy. I tell you so, by the faith of de Treville.”
“How so?”
“You will be assassinated.”
“And I shall die in the performance of my duty.”
“But your mission will not be accomplished.”
“That is true,” replied d’Artagnan.
“Believe me,” continued Treville, “in enterprises of this kind, in order that one may arrive, four must set out.”
“Ah, you are right, monsieur,” said d’Artagnan; “but you know Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, and you know if I can dispose of them.”
“Without confiding to them the secret which I am not willing to know?”
“We are sworn, once for all, to implicit confidence and devotedness against all proof. Besides, you can tell them that you have full confidence in me, and they will not be more incredulous than you.”
“I can send to each of them leave of absence for fifteen days, that is all—to Athos, whose wound still makes him suffer, to go to the waters of Forges; to Porthos and Aramis to accompany their friend, whom they are not willing to abandon in such a painful condition. Sending their leave of absence will be proof enough that I authorize their journey.”
“Thanks, monsieur. You are a hundred times too good.”
“Begone, then, find them instantly, and let all be done tonight! Ha! But first write your request to Dessessart. Perhaps you had a spy at your heels; and your visit, if it should ever be known to the cardinal, will thus seem legitimate.”
D’Artagnan drew up his request, and M. de Treville, on receiving it, assured him that by two o’clock in the morning the four leaves of absence should be at the respective domiciles of the travelers.
“Have the goodness to send mine to Athos’s residence. I should dread some disagreeable encounter if I were to go home.”
“Be easy. Adieu, and a prosperous voyage. A PROPOS,” said M. de Treville, calling him back.
D’Artagnan returned.
“Have you any money?”
D’Artagnan tapped the bag he had in his pocket.
“Enough?” asked M. de Treville.
“Three hundred pistoles.”
“Oh, plenty! That would carry you to the end of the world. Begone, then!”
D’Artagnan saluted M. de Treville, who held out his hand to him;