"And now, where is he gone?" inquired D'Artagnan.
"He is gone to Noisy."
"How dost thou know?"
"Ah, faith! there was no great cunning necessary. I knew the
horse he rode; it belonged to the butcher, who lets it out
now and then to M. Bazin. Now I thought that the butcher
would not let his horse out like that without knowing where
it was going. And he answered `that Monsieur Bazin went to
Noisy.' 'Tis his custom. He goes two or three times a week."
"Dost thou know Noisy well?"
"I think so, truly; my nurse lives there."
"Is there a convent at Noisy?"
"Isn't there a great and grand one -- the convent of
Jesuits?"
"What is thy name?"
"Friquet."
D'Artagnan wrote the child's name in his tablets.
"Please, sir," said the boy, "do you think I can gain any
more half-pistoles in any way?"
"Perhaps," replied D'Artagnan.
And having got out all he wanted, he paid for the hypocras,
which he did not drink, and went quickly back to the Rue
Tiquetonne.
8
How D'Artagnan, on going to a Distance to discover Aramis,
discovers his old Friend on Horseback behind his own
Planchet.
On entering the hotel D'Artagnan saw a man sitting in a
corner by the fire. It was Planchet, but so completely
transformed, thanks to the old clothes that the departing
husband had left behind, that D'Artagnan himself could
hardly recognize him. Madeleine introduced him in presence
of all the servants. Planchet addressed the officer with a
fine Flemish phrase; the officer replied in words that
belonged to no language at all, and the bargain was
concluded; Madeleine's brother entered D'Artagnan's service.
The plan adopted by D'Artagnan was soon perfected. He
resolved not to reach Noisy in the day, for fear of being
recognized; he had therefore plenty of time before him, for
Noisy is only three or four leagues from Paris, on the road
to Meaux.
He began his day by breakfasting substantially -- a bad
beginning when one wants to employ the head, but an
excellent precaution when one wants to work the body; and
about two o'clock he had his two horses saddled, and
followed by Planchet he quitted Paris by the Barriere de la
Villete. A most active search was still prosecuted in the
house near the Hotel de la Chevrette for the discovery of
Planchet.
At about a league and a half from the city, D'Artagnan,
finding that in his impatience he had set out too soon,
stopped to give the horses breathing time. The inn was full
of disreputable looking people, who seemed as if they were
on the point of commencing some nightly expedition. A man,
wrapped in a cloak, appeared at the door, but seeing a
stranger he beckoned to his companions, and two men who were
drinking in the inn went out to speak to him.
D'Artagnan, on his side, went up to the landlady, praised
her wine -- which was a horrible production from the country
of Montreuil -- and heard from her that there were only two
houses of importance in the village; one of these belonged
to the Archbishop of Paris, and was at that time the abode
of his niece the Duchess of Longueville; the other was a
convent of Jesuits and was the property -- a by no means
unusual circumstance -- of these worthy fathers.
At four o'clock D'Artagnan recommenced his journey. He
proceeded slowly and in deep reverie. Planchet also was lost
in thought, but the subject of their reflections was not the
same.
One word which their landlady had pronounced had given a
particular turn to D'Artagnan's deliberations; this was the
name of Madame de Longueville.
That name was indeed one to inspire imagination and produce
thought. Madame de Longueville was one of the highest ladies
in the realm; she was also one of the greatest beauties at
court. She had formerly been suspected of an intimacy of too
tender a nature with Coligny, who, for her sake, had been
killed in a duel, in the Place Royale, by the Duc de Guise.
She was now connected by bonds of a political nature with
the Prince de Marsillac, the eldest son of the old Duc de
Rochefoucauld, whom she was trying to inspire with an enmity
toward the Duc de Conde, her brother-in-law, whom she now
hated mortally.
D'Artagnan thought of all these matters. He remembered how
at the Louvre he had often seen, as she passed by him in the
full radiance of her dazzling charms, the beautiful Madame
de Longueville. He thought of Aramis, who, without
possessing any greater advantages than himself, had formerly
been the lover of Madame de Chevreuse, who had been to a
former court what Madame de Longueville was in that day; and
he wondered how it was that there should be in the world
people who succeed in every wish, some in ambition, others
in love, whilst others, either from chance, or from
ill-luck, or from some natural defect or impediment, remain
half-way upon the road toward fulfilment of their hopes and
expectations.
He was confessing to himself that he belonged to the latter
unhappy class, when Planchet approached and said:
"I will lay a wager, your honor, that you and I are thinking
of the same thing."
"I doubt it, Planchet," replied D'Artagnan, "but what are
you thinking of?"
"I am thinking, sir, of those desperate looking men who were
drinking in the inn where we rested."
"Always cautious, Planchet."
"'Tis instinct, your honor."
"Well, what does your instinct tell you now?"
"Sir, my instinct told me that those people were assembled
there for some bad purpose; and I was reflecting on what my
instinct had told me, in the darkest corner of the stable,
when a man wrapped in a cloak and followed by two other men,
came in."
"Ah ah!" said D'Artagnan, Planchet's recital agreeing with
his own observations. "Well?"
"One of these two men said, `He must certainly be at Noisy,
or be coming there this evening, for I have seen his
servant.'
"`Art thou sure? ' said the man in the cloak.
"`Yes, my prince.'"
"My prince!" interrupted D'Artagnan.
"Yes, `my prince;' but listen. `If he is here' -- this is
what the other man said -- `let's see decidedly what to do
with him.'
"`What to do with him?' answered the prince.
"`Yes, he's not a man to allow himself to be taken anyhow;
he'll defend himself.'
"`Well, we must try to take him alive. Have you cords to
bind him with and a gag to stop his mouth?'
"`We have.'
"`Remember that he will most likely be disguised as a
horseman.'
"`Yes, yes, my lord; don't be uneasy.'
"`Besides, I shall be there.'
"`You will assure us that justice ---- '
"`Yes, yes! I answer for all that,' the prince said.
"`Well, then, we'll do our best.' Having said that, they
went out of the stable."
"Well, what matters all that to us?" said D'Artagnan. "This
is one of those attempts that happen every day."
"Are you sure that we are not its objects?"
"We? Why?"
"Just remember what they said. `I have seen his servant,'
said one, and that applies very well to me."
"Well?"
"`He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this
evening,' said the other; and that applies very well to
you."
"What else?"
"Then the prince said: `Take notice that in all probability
he will be disguised as a cavalier;' which seems to me to
leave no room for doubt, since you are dressed as a cavalier
and not as an officer of musketeers. Now then, what do you
say to that?"
"Alas! my dear Planchet," said D'Artagnan, sighing, "we are
unfortunately no longer in those times in which princes
would care to assassinate me. Those were good old days;
never fear -- these people owe us no grudge."
"Is your honor sure?"
"I can answer for it they do not."
"Well, we won't speak of it any more, then;" and Planchet
took his place in D'Artagnan's suite with that sublime
confidence he had always had in his master, which even
fifteen years of separation had not destroyed.
They had traveled onward about half a mile when Planchet
came close up to D'Artagnan.
"Stop, sir, look yonder," he whispered; "don't you see in
the darkness something pass by, like shadows? I fancy I hear
horses' feet."
"Impossible!" returned D'Artagnan. "The ground is soaking
wet; yet I fancy, as thou sayest, that I see something."
At this moment the neighing of a horse struck his ear,
coming through darkness and space.
"There are men somewhere about, but that's of no consequence
to us," said D'Artagnan; "let us ride onward."
At about half-past eight o'clock they reached the first
houses in Noisy; every one was in bed and not a light was to
be seen in the village. The obscurity was broken only now
and then by the still darker lines of the roofs of houses.
Here and there a dog barked behind a door or an affrighted
cat fled precipitately from the midst of the pavement to
take refuge behind a pile of faggots, from which retreat her
eyes would shine like peridores. These were the only living
creatures that seemed to inhabit the village.
Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open
space, rose a dark mass, separated from the rest of the
world by two lanes and overshadowed in the front by enormous
lime-trees. D'Artagnan looked attentively at the building.
"This," he said to Planchet, "must be the archbishop's
chateau, the abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but
the convent, where is that?"
"The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the
village; I know it well."
"Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my
horse's girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light
in any of the Jesuits' windows."
In about five minutes Planchet returned.
"Sir," he said, "there is one window of the convent lighted
up."
"Hem! If I were a `Frondeur,'" said D'Artagnan, "I should
knock here and should be sure of a good supper. If I were a
monk I should knock yonder and should have a good supper
there, too; whereas, 'tis very possible that between the
castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds, dying
with hunger and thirst."
"Yes," added Planchet, "like the famous ass of Buridan.
Shall I knock?"
"Hush!" replied D'Artagnan; "the light no longer burns in
yonder window."
"Do you hear nothing?" whispered Planchet.
"What is that noise?"
There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two
troops of horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth
from each of the lanes which encompassed the house and
surrounded D'Artagnan and Planchet.
"Heyday!" cried D'Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking
refuge behind his horse; "are you not mistaken? is it really
for us that you mean your attack?"
"Here he is! we have him!" cried the horsemen, rushing on
D'Artagnan with naked swords.
"Don't let him escape!" said a loud voice.
"No, my lord; be assured we shall not."
D'Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the
conversation.
"Halloo, gentlemen!" he called out in his Gascon accent,
"what do you want? what do you demand?"
"That thou shalt soon know," shouted a chorus of horsemen.
"Stop, stop!" cried he whom they had addressed as "my lord;"
"'tis not his voice."
"Ah! just so, gentlemen! pray, do people get into a passion
at random at Noisy? Take care, for I warn you that the first
man that comes within the length of my sword -- and my sword
is long -- I rip him up."
The chieftain of the party drew near.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a lofty tone, as that
of one accustomed to command.
"And you -- what are you doing here?" replied D'Artagnan.
"Be civil, or I shall beat you; for although one may not
choose to proclaim oneself, one insists on respect suitable
to one's rank."
"You don't choose to discover yourself, because you are the
leader of an ambuscade," returned D'Artagnan; "but with
regard to myself, who am traveling quietly with my own
servant, I have not the same reasons as you have to conceal
my name."
"Enough! enough! what is your name?"
"I shall tell you my name in order that you may know where
to find me, my lord, or my prince, as it may suit you best
to be called," said our Gascon, who did not choose to seem
to yield to a threat. "Do you know Monsieur d'Artagnan?"
"Lieutenant in the king's musketeers?" said the voice; "you
are Monsieur d'Artagnan?"
"I am."
"Then you came here to defend him?"
"Him? whom?"
"The man we are seeking."
"It seems," said D'Artagnan, "that whilst I thought I was
coming to Noisy I have entered, without suspecting it, into
the kingdom of mysteries."
"Come," replied the same lofty tone, "answer! Are you
waiting for him underneath these windows? Did you come to
Noisy to defend him?"
"I am waiting for no one," replied D'Artagnan, who was
beginning to be angry. "I propose to defend no one but
