"It shall take but a quarter of an hour, I answer for everything,
madame; believe me, I know the people; they are like a great child, who
only wants humoring. Before the sleeping king they will be mute, gentle
and timid as lambs."
"Go, Laporte," said the queen.
The young king approached his mother and said, "Why do as these people
ask?"
"It must be so, my son," said Anne of Austria.
"But if they say, ’it must be’ to me, am I no longer king?"
The queen remained silent.
"Sire," said D’Artagnan, "will your majesty permit me to ask you a
question?"
Louis XIV. turned around, astonished that any one should dare to address
him. But the queen pressed the child’s hand.
"Yes, sir." he said.
"Does your majesty remember, when playing in the park of Fontainebleau,
or in the palace courts at Versailles, ever to have seen the sky grow
suddenly dark and heard the sound of thunder?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Well, then, this noise of thunder, however much your majesty may have
wished to continue playing, has said, ’go in, sire. You must do so.’"
"Certainly, sir; but they tell me that the noise of thunder is the voice
of God."
"Well then, sire," continued D’Artagnan, "listen to the noise of the
people; you will perceive that it resembles that of thunder."
In truth at that moment a terrible murmur was wafted to them by the
night breeze; then all at once it ceased.
"Hold, sire," said D’Artagnan, "they have just told the people that you
are asleep; you see, you still are king."
The queen looked with surprise at this strange man, whose brilliant
courage made him the equal of the bravest, and who was, by his fine and
quick intelligence, the equal of the most astute.
Laporte entered.
"Well, Laporte?" asked the queen.
"Madame," he replied, "Monsieur d’Artagnan’s prediction has been
accomplished; they are calm, as if by enchantment. The doors are about
to be opened and in five minutes they will be here."
"Laporte," said the queen, "suppose you put one of your sons in the
king’s place; we might be off during the time."
"If your majesty desires it," said Laporte, "my sons, like myself, are
at the queen’s service."
"Not at all," said D’Artagnan; "should one of them know his majesty and
discover but a substitute, all would be lost."
"You are right, sir, always right," said Anne of Austria. "Laporte,
place the king in bed."
Laporte placed the king, dressed as he was, in the bed and then covered
him as far as the shoulders with the sheet. The queen bent over him and
kissed his brow.
"Pretend to sleep, Louis," said she.
"Yes," said the king, "but I do not wish to be touched by any of those
men."
"Sire, I am here," said D’Artagnan, "and I give you my word, that if a
single man has the audacity, his life shall pay for it."
"And now what is to be done?" asked the queen, "for I hear them."
"Monsieur Laporte, go to them and again recommend silence. Madame, wait
at the door, whilst I shall be at the head of the king’s bed, ready to
die for him."
Laporte went out; the queen remained standing near the hangings, whilst
D’Artagnan glided behind the curtains.
Then the heavy and collected steps of a multitude of men were heard, and
the queen herself raised the tapestry hangings and put her finger on her
lips.
On seeing the queen, the men stopped short, respectfully.
"Enter, gentlemen, enter," said the queen.
There was then amongst that crowd a moment’s hesitation, which looked
like shame. They had expected resistance, they had expected to be
thwarted, to have to force the gates, to overturn the guards. The gates
had opened of themselves, and the king, ostensibly at least, had no
other guard at his bed-head but his mother. The foremost of them
stammered and attempted to fall back.
"Enter, gentlemen," said Laporte, "since the queen desires you so to
do."
Then one more bold than the rest ventured to pass the door and to
advance on tiptoe. This example was imitated by the rest, until the room
filled silently, as if these men had been the humblest, most devoted
courtiers. Far beyond the door the heads of those who were not able to
enter could be seen, all craning to their utmost height to try and see.
D’Artagnan saw it all through an opening he had made in the curtain, and
in the very first man who entered he recognized Planchet.
"Sir," said the queen to him, thinking he was the leader of the band,
"you wished to see the king and therefore I determined to show him to
you myself. Approach and look at him and say if we have the appearance
of people who wish to run away."
"No, certainly," replied Planchet, rather astonished at the unexpected
honor conferred upon him.
"You will say, then, to my good and faithful Parisians," continued Anne,
with a smile, the expression of which did not deceive D’Artagnan, "that
you have seen the king in bed, asleep, and the queen also ready to
retire."
"I shall tell them, madame, and those who accompany me will say the same
thing; but----"
"But what?" asked Anne of Austria.
"Will your majesty pardon me," said Planchet, "but is it really the king
who is lying there?"
Anne of Austria started. "If," she said, "there is one among you who
knows the king, let him approach and say whether it is really his
majesty lying there."
A man wrapped in a cloak, in the folds of which his face was hidden,
approached and leaned over the bed and looked.
For one second, D’Artagnan thought the man had some evil design and he
put his hand to his sword; but in the movement made by the man in
stooping a portion of his face was uncovered and D’Artagnan recognized
the coadjutor.
"It is certainly the king," said the man, rising again. "God bless his
majesty!"
"Yes," repeated the leader in a whisper, "God bless his majesty!" and
all these men, who had entered enraged, passed from anger to pity and
blessed the royal infant in their turn.
"Now," said Planchet, "let us thank the queen. My friends, retire."
They all bowed, and retired by degrees as noiselessly as they had
entered. Planchet, who had been the first to enter, was the last to
leave. The queen stopped him.
"What is your name, my friend?" she said.
Planchet, much surprised at the inquiry, turned back.
"Yes," continued the queen, "I think myself as much honored to have
received you this evening as if you had been a prince, and I wish to
know your name."
"Yes," thought Planchet, "to treat me as a prince. No, thank you."
D’Artagnan trembled lest Planchet, seduced, like the crow in the fable,
should tell his name, and that the queen, knowing his name, would
discover that Planchet had belonged to him.
"Madame," replied Planchet, respectfully, "I am called Dulaurier, at
your service."
"Thank you, Monsieur Dulaurier," said the queen; "and what is your
business?"
"Madame, I am a clothier in the Rue Bourdonnais."
"That is all I wished to know," said the queen. "Much obliged to you,
Monsieur Dulaurier. You will hear again from me."
"Come, come," thought D’Artagnan, emerging from behind the curtain,
"decidedly Monsieur Planchet is no fool; it is evident he has been
brought up in a good school."
The different actors in this strange scene remained facing one another,
without uttering a single word; the queen standing near the door,
D’Artagnan half out of his hiding place, the king raised on his elbow,
ready to fall down on his bed again at the slightest sound that would
indicate the return of the multitude, but instead of approaching, the
noise became more and more distant and very soon it died entirely away.
The queen breathed more freely. D’Artagnan wiped his damp forehead and
the king slid off his bed, saying, "Let us go."
At this moment Laporte reappeared.
"Well?" asked the queen
"Well, madame," replied the valet, "I followed them as far as the gates.
They announced to all their comrades that they had seen the king and
that the queen had spoken to them; and, in fact, they went away quite
proud and happy."
"Oh, the miserable wretches!" murmured the queen, "they shall pay dearly
for their boldness, and it is I who promise this."
Then turning to D’Artagnan, she said:
"Sir, you have given me this evening the best advice I have ever
received. Continue, and say what we must do now."
"Monsieur Laporte," said D’Artagnan, "finish dressing his majesty."
"We may go, then?" asked the queen.
"Whenever your majesty pleases. You have only to descend by the private
stairs and you will find me at the door."
"Go, sir," said the queen; "I will follow you."
D’Artagnan went down and found the carriage at its post and the
musketeer on the box. D’Artagnan took out the parcel which he had
desired Bernouin to place under the seat. It may be remembered that it
was the hat and cloak belonging to Monsieur de Gondy’s coachman.
He placed the cloak on his shoulders and the hat on his head, whilst the
musketeer got off the box.
"Sir," said D’Artagnan, "you will go and release your companion, who is
guarding the coachman. You must mount your horse and proceed to the Rue
Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette, whence you will take my horse and
that of Monsieur du Vallon, which you must saddle and equip as if for
war, and then you will leave Paris, bringing them with you to Cours la
Reine. If, when you arrive at Cours la Reine, you find no one, you must
go on to Saint Germain. On the king’s service."
The musketeer touched his cap and went away to execute the orders thus
received.
D’Artagnan mounted the box, having a pair of pistols in his belt, a
musket under his feet and a naked sword behind him.
The queen appeared, and was followed by the king and the Duke d’Anjou,
his brother.
"Monsieur the coadjutor’s carriage!" she exclaimed, falling back.
"Yes, madame," said D’Artagnan; "but get in fearlessly, for I myself
will drive you."
The queen uttered a cry of surprise and entered the carriage, and the
king and monsieur took their places at her side.
"Come, Laporte," said the queen.
"How, madame!" said the valet, "in the same carriage as your majesties?"
"It is not a matter of royal etiquette this evening, but of the king’s
safety. Get in, Laporte."
Laporte obeyed.
"Pull down the blinds," said D’Artagnan.
"But will that not excite suspicion, sir?" asked the queen.
"Your majesty’s mind may be quite at ease," replied the officer; "I have
my answer ready."
The blinds were pulled down and they started at a gallop by the Rue
Richelieu. On reaching the gate the captain of the post advanced at the
head of a dozen men, holding a lantern in his hand.
D’Artagnan signed to them to draw near.
"Do you recognize the carriage?" he asked the sergeant.
"No," replied the latter.
"Look at the arms."
The sergeant put the lantern near the panel.
"They are those of monsieur le coadjuteur," he said.
"Hush; he is enjoying a ride with Madame de Guemenee."
The sergeant began to laugh.
"Open the gate," he cried. "I know who it is!" Then putting his face to
the lowered blinds, he said:
"I wish you joy, my lord!"
"Impudent fellow!" cried D’Artagnan, "you will get me turned off."
The gate groaned on its hinges, and D’Artagnan, seeing the way clear,
whipped his horses, who started at a canter, and five minutes later they
had rejoined the cardinal.
"Mousqueton!" exclaimed D’Artagnan, "draw up the blinds of his majesty’s
carriage."
"It is he!" cried Porthos.
"Disguised as a coachman!" exclaimed Mazarin.
"And driving the coadjutor’s carriage!" said the queen.
"Corpo di Dio! Monsieur d’Artagnan!" said Mazarin, "you are worth your
weight in gold."
53. How D’Artagnan and Porthos earned by selling Straw.
Mazarin was desirous of setting out instantly for Saint Germain, but the
queen declared that she should wait for the people whom she had
appointed to meet her. However, she offered the cardinal Laporte’s
place, which he accepted and went from one carriage to the other.
It was not without foundation that a report of the king’s intention to
leave Paris by night had been circulated. Ten or twelve persons had been
in the secret since six o’clock, and howsoever great their prudence
might be, they could not issue the necessary orders for the departure
without suspicion being generated. Besides, each individual had one or
two others for whom he was interested; and as there could be no doubt
but that the queen was leaving Paris full of terrible projects of
vengeance, every one had warned parents and friends of what was about to
transpire; so that the news of the approaching exit ran like a train of
lighted gunpowder along the streets.
The first carriage which arrived after that of the queen was that of the
Prince de Conde, with the princess and dowager princess. Both these
ladies had been awakened in the middle of the night and did not know
what it all was about. The second contained the Duke and Duchess of
Orleans, the tall young Mademoiselle and the Abbe de la Riviere; and the
third, the Duke de Longueville and the Prince de Conti, brother and
brother-in-law of Conde. They all alighted and hastened to pay their
respects to the king and queen in their coach. The queen fixed her eyes
upon the carriage they had left, and seeing that it was empty, she said:
"But where is Madame de Longueville?"
"Ah, yes, where is my sister?" asked the prince.
"Madame de Longueville is ill," said the duke, "and she desired me to
excuse her to your majesty."
Anne gave a quick glance to Mazarin, who answered by an almost
imperceptible shake of his head.
"What do you say of this?" asked the queen.
"I say that she is a hostage for the Parisians," answered the cardinal.
"Why is she not come?" asked the prince in a low voice, addressing his
brother.
"Silence," whispered the duke, "she has her reasons."
"She will ruin us!" returned the prince.
"She will save us," said Conti.
Carriages now arrived in crowds; those of the Marechal de Villeroy,
Guitant, Villequier and Comminges came into the line. The two musketeers
arrived in their turn, holding the horses of D’Artagnan and Porthos in
their hands. These two instantly mounted, the coachman of the latter
replacing D’Artagnan on the coach-box of the royal coach. Mousqueton
took the place of the coachman, and drove standing, for reasons known to
himself, like Automedon of antiquity.
The queen, though occupied by a thousand details, tried to catch the
Gascon’s eye; but he, with his wonted prudence, had mingled with the
crowd.
"Let us be the avant guard," said he to Porthos, "and find good quarters
at Saint Germain; nobody will think of us, and for my part I am greatly
fatigued."
"As for me," replied Porthos, "I am falling asleep, which is strange,
considering we have not had any fighting; truly the Parisians are
idiots."
"Or rather, we are very clever," said D’Artagnan.
"Perhaps."
"And how is your wrist?"
"Better; but do you think that we’ve got them this time?"
"Got what?"
"You your command, and I my title?"
"I’faith! yes--I should expect so; besides, if they forget, I shall take
the liberty of reminding them."
"The queen’s voice! she is speaking," said Porthos; "I think she wants
to ride on horseback."
"Oh, she would like it, but----"
"But what?"
"The cardinal won’t allow it. Gentlemen," he said, addressing the two
musketeers, "accompany the royal carriage, we are going forward to look
for lodgings."
D’Artagnan started off for Saint Germain, followed by Porthos.
"We will go on, gentlemen," said the queen.
And the royal carriage drove on, followed by the other coaches and about
fifty horsemen.
They reached Saint German without any accident; on descending, the queen
found the prince awaiting her, bare-headed, to offer her his hand.
"What an awakening for the Parisians!" said the queen, radiant.
"It is war," said the prince.
"Well, then, let it be war! Have we not on our side the conqueror of
Rocroy, of Nordlingen, of Lens?"
The prince bowed low.
It was then three o’clock in the morning. The queen walked first, every
one followed her. About two hundred persons had accompanied her in her
flight.
"Gentlemen," said the queen, laughing, "pray take up your abode in the
chateau; it is large, and there will be no want of room for you all;
but, as we never thought of coming here, I am informed that there are,
in all, only three beds in the whole establishment, one for the king,
one for me----"
"And one for the cardinal," muttered the prince.
"Am I--am I, then, to sleep on the floor?" asked Gaston d’Orleans, with
a forced smile.
"No, my prince," replied Mazarin, "the third bed is intended for your
highness."
"But your eminence?" replied the prince.
"I," answered Mazarin, "I shall not sleep at all; I have work to do."
Gaston desired that he should be shown into the room wherein he was to
sleep, without in the least concerning himself as to where his wife and
daughter were to repose.
"Well, for my part, I shall go to bed," said D’Artagnan; "come,
Porthos."
Porthos followed the lieutenant with that profound confidence he ever
had in the wisdom of his friend. They walked from one end of the chateau
to the other, Porthos looking with wondering eyes at D’Artagnan, who was
counting on his fingers.
"Four hundred, at a pistole each, four hundred pistoles."
"Yes," interposed Porthos, "four hundred pistoles; but who is to make
four hundred pistoles?"
"A pistole is not enough," said D’Artagnan, "’tis worth a louis."
"What is worth a louis?"
"Four hundred, at a louis each, make four hundred louis."
"Four hundred?" said Porthos.
"Yes, there are two hundred of them, and each of them will need two,
which will make four hundred."
"But four hundred what?"
"Listen!" cried D’Artagnan.
But as there were all kinds of people about, who were in a state of
stupefaction at the unexpected arrival of the court, he whispered in his
friend’s ear.
"I understand," answered Porthos, "I understand you perfectly, on my
honor; two hundred louis, each of us, would be making a pretty thing of
it; but what will people say?"
"Let them say what they will; besides, how will they know that we are
doing it?"
"But who will distribute these things?" asked Porthos.
"Isn’t Mousqueton there?"
"But he wears my livery; my livery will be known," replied Porthos.
"He can turn his coat inside out."
"You are always in the right, my dear friend," cried Porthos; "but where
the devil do you discover all the notions you put into practice?"
D’Artagnan smiled. The two friends turned down the first street they
came to. Porthos knocked at the door of a house to the right, whilst
D’Artagnan knocked at the door of a house to the left.
"Some straw," they said.
"Sir, we don’t keep any," was the reply of the people who opened the
doors; "but please ask at the hay dealer’s."
"Where is the hay dealer’s?"
"At the last large door in the street."
"Are there any other people in Saint Germain who sell straw?"
"Yes; there’s the landlord of the Lamb, and Gros-Louis the farmer; they
both live in the Rue des Ursulines."
"Very well."
D’Artagnan went instantly to the hay dealer and bargained with him for a
hundred and fifty trusses of straw, which he obtained, at the rate of
three pistoles each. He went afterward to the innkeeper and bought from
him two hundred trusses at the same price. Finally, Farmer Louis sold
them eighty trusses, making in all four hundred and thirty.
There was no more to be had in Saint Germain. This foraging did not
occupy more than half an hour. Mousqueton, duly instructed, was put at
the head of this sudden and new business. He was cautioned not to let a
bit of straw out of his hands under a louis the truss, and they
intrusted to him straw to the amount of four hundred and thirty louis.
D’Artagnan, taking with him three trusses of straw, returned to the
chateau, where everybody, freezing with cold and more than half asleep,
envied the king, the queen, and the Duke of Orleans, on their camp beds.
The lieutenant’s entrance produced a burst of laughter in the great
drawing-room; but he did not appear to notice that he was the object of
general attention, but began to arrange, with so much cleverness, nicety
and gayety, his straw bed, that the mouths of all these poor creatures,
who could not go to sleep, began to water.
"Straw!" they all cried out, "straw! where is there any to be found?"
"I can show you," answered the Gascon.
And he conducted them to Mousqueton, who freely distributed the trusses
at the rate of a louis apiece. It was thought rather dear, but people
wanted to sleep, and who would not give even two or three louis for a
few hours of sound sleep?
D’Artagnan gave up his bed to any one who wanted it, making it over
about a dozen times; and since he was supposed to have paid, like the
others, a louis for his truss of straw, he pocketed in that way thirty
louis in less than half an hour. At five o’clock in the morning the
straw was worth eighty francs a truss and there was no more to be had.
D’Artagnan had taken the precaution to set apart four trusses for his
own use. He put in his pocket the key of the room where he had hidden
them, and accompanied by Porthos returned to settle with Mousqueton,
who, naively, and like the worthy steward that he was, handed them four
hundred and thirty louis and kept one hundred for himself.
Mousqueton, who knew nothing of what was going on in the chateau,
wondered that the idea had not occurred to him sooner. D’Artagnan put
the gold in his hat, and in going back to the chateau settled the
reckoning with Porthos, each of them had cleared two hundred and fifteen
louis.
Porthos, however, found that he had no straw left for himself. He
returned to Mousqueton, but the steward had sold the last wisp. He then
repaired to D’Artagnan, who, thanks to his four trusses of straw, was in
the act of making up and tasting, by anticipation, the luxury of a bed
so soft, so well stuffed at the head, so well covered at the foot, that
it would have excited the envy of the king himself, if his majesty had
not been fast asleep in his own. D’Artagnan could on no account consent
to pull his bed to pieces again for Porthos, but for a consideration of
four louis that the latter paid him for it, he consented that Porthos
should share his couch with him. He laid his sword at the head, his
pistols by his side, stretched his cloak over his feet, placed his felt
hat on the top of his cloak and extended himself luxuriously on the
straw, which rustled under him. He was already enjoying the sweet dream
engendered by the possession of two hundred and nineteen louis, made in
a quarter of an hour, when a voice was heard at the door of the hall,
which made him stir.
"Monsieur d’Artagnan!" it cried.
"Here!" cried Porthos, "here!"
Porthos foresaw that if D’Artagnan was called away he should remain the
sole possessor of the bed. An officer approached.
"I am come to fetch you, Monsieur d’Artagnan."
"From whom?"
"His eminence sent me."
"Tell my lord that I’m 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 will forgive him."
And the musketeer rose, 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.
"Monsieur 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 is a promising beginning."
"Monsieur d’Artagnan," he resumed, "do you wish to become a captain?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And your friend still longs to be made a baron?"
"At this very moment, my lord, he no doubt dreams that he is one
already."
"Then," said Mazarin, taking from his portfolio the letter which he had
already shown D’Artagnan, "take this dispatch 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 you may tear off the
outer envelope."
"And what are my instructions?"
"To obey in every particular the man to whom this letter is addressed.
You must set out for Boulogne. At the Royal Arms of England you will
find a young gentleman named Mordaunt."
"Yes, my lord; and what am I to do with this young gentleman?"
"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 have no money?"
"None, my lord."
"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 envoy
extraordinary."
"Zounds!" replied Mazarin, "the people there are very sedate, 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?"
D’Artagnan pouted out his lower lip in a most extraordinary manner.
"I reply, my lord, ’tis but little, as certainly I shall not go alone."
"I suppose not. Monsieur du Vallon, that worthy gentleman, for, with the
exception of yourself, Monsieur 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 having, 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," replied Mazarin;
"go, pray, sir----"
"One word more, my lord; if there’s any fighting where I’m going, must I
fight?"
"You are to obey the commands of the personage to whom I have addressed
the inclosed letter."
"’Tis well," said D’Artagnan, holding out his hand to receive 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 Monsieur du Vallon and to say
’tis by his eminence’s order, and that I shall await him at the
stables."
The officer 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 have you got to
say?"
"That his eminence has ordered you to England and that Monsieur
d’Artagnan is waiting for you in the stables."
Porthos sighed heavily, arose, took his hat, his pistols, and his cloak,
and departed, casting a look of regret upon the couch where he had hoped
to sleep so well.
No sooner had he turned his back than the officer laid himself down in
it, and he had scarcely crossed the threshold before his successor, in
his turn, was snoring immoderately. It was very natural, he being the
only person in the whole assemblage, except the king, the queen, and the
Duke of Orleans, who slept gratuitously.
54. In which we hear Tidings of Aramis.
D’Artagnan went straight to the stables; day was just dawning. 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 human body, which uttered a cry and arose on its knees,
rubbing its eyes. It was Mousqueton, who, having no straw to lie upon,
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.
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed D’Artagnan, picking up a louis and displaying it;
"here’s a louis that smells confoundedly of straw."
Mousqueton blushed so confusedly that the Gascon began to laugh at him
and said:
"Porthos would be angry, my dear Monsieur Mousqueton, but I pardon you,
only let us remember that this gold must serve us as a joke, so be
gay--come along."
Mousqueton instantly assumed a 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 resigned 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. |
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