myself, and I shall defend myself vigorously, I give you
warning."
"Very well," said the voice; "go away from here and leave
the place to us."
"Go away from here!" said D'Artagnan, whose purposes were in
conflict with that order, "that is not so easy, since I am
on the point of falling, and my horse, too, through fatigue;
unless, indeed, you are disposed to offer me a supper and a
bed in the neighborhood."
"Rascal!"
"Eh! monsieur!" said D'Artagnan, "I beg you will have a care
what you say; for if you utter another word like that, be
you marquis, duke, prince or king, I will thrust it down
your throat! do you hear?"
"Well, well," rejoined the leader, "there's no doubt 'tis a
Gascon who is speaking, and therefore not the man we are
looking for. Our blow has failed for to-night; let us
withdraw. We shall meet again, Master d'Artagnan," continued
the leader, raising his voice.
"Yes, but never with the same advantages," said D'Artagnan,
in a tone of raillery; "for when you meet me again you will
perhaps be alone and there will be daylight."
"Very good, very good," said the voice. "En route,
gentlemen."
And the troop, grumbling angrily, disappeared in the
darkness and took the road to Paris. D'Artagnan and Planchet
remained for some moments still on the defensive; then, as
the noise of the horsemen became more and more distant, they
sheathed their swords.
"Thou seest, simpleton," said D'Artagnan to his servant,
"that they wished no harm to us."
"But to whom, then?"
"I'faith! I neither know nor care. What I do care for now,
is to make my way into the Jesuits' convent; so to horse and
let us knock at their door. Happen what will, the devil take
them, they can't eat us."
And he mounted his horse. Planchet had just done the same
when an unexpected weight fell upon the back of the horse,
which sank down.
"Hey! your honor!" cried Planchet, "I've a man behind me."
D'Artagnan turned around and plainly saw two human forms on
Planchet's horse.
"'Tis then the devil that pursues!" he cried; drawing his
sword and preparing to attack the new foe.
"No, no, dear D'Artagnan," said the figure, "'tis not the
devil, 'tis Aramis; gallop fast, Planchet, and when you come
to the end of the village turn swiftly to the left."
And Planchet, with Aramis behind him, set off at full
gallop, followed by D'Artagnan, who began to think he was in
the merry maze of some fantastic dream.
9
The Abbe D'Herblay.
At the extremity of the village Planchet turned to the left
in obedience to the orders of Aramis, and stopped underneath
the window which had light in it. Aramis alighted and
clapped his hands three times. Immediately the window was
opened and a ladder of rope was let down from it.
"My friend," said Aramis, "if you like to ascend I shall be
delighted to receive you."
"Ah," said D'Artagnan, "is that the way you return to your
apartment?"
"After nine at night, pardieu!" said Aramis, "the rule of
the convent is very severe."
"Pardon me, my dear friend," said D'Artagnan, "I think you
said `pardieu!'"
"Do you think so?" said Aramis, smiling; "it is possible.
You have no idea, my dear fellow, how one acquires bad
habits in these cursed convents, or what evil ways all these
men of the church have, with whom I am obliged to live. But
will you not go up?"
"Pass on before me, I beg of you."
"As the late cardinal used to say to the late king, `only to
show you the way, sire.'" And Aramis ascended the ladder
quickly and reached the window in an instant.
D'Artagnan followed, but less nimbly, showing plainly that
this mode of ascent was not one to which he was accustomed.
"I beg your pardon," said Aramis, noticing his awkwardness;
"if I had known that I was to have the honor of your visit I
should have procured the gardener's ladder; but for me alone
this is good enough."
"Sir," said Planchet when he saw D'Artagnan on the summit of
the ladder, "this way is easy for Monsieur Aramis and even
for you; in case of necessity I might also climb up, but my
two horses cannot mount the ladder."
"Take them to yonder shed, my friend," said Aramis, pointing
to a low building on the plain; "there you will find hay and
straw for them; then come back here and clap your hands
three times, and we will give you wine and food. Marry,
forsooth, people don't die of hunger here.'
And Aramis, drawing in the ladder, closed the window.
D'Artagnan then looked around attentively.
Never was there an apartment at the same time more warlike
and more elegant. At each corner were arranged trophies,
presenting to view swords of all sorts, and on the walls
hung four great pictures representing in their ordinary
military costume the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Cardinal de
Richelieu, the Cardinal de la Valette, and the Archbishop of
Bordeaux. Exteriorly, nothing in the room showed that it was
the habitation of an abbe. The hangings were of damask, the
carpets from Alencon, and the bed, especially, had more the
look of a fine lady's couch, with its trimmings of fine lace
and its embroidered counterpane, than that of a man who had
made a vow that he would endeavor to gain Heaven by fasting
and mortification.
"You are examining my den," said Aramis. "Ah, my dear
fellow, excuse me; I am lodged like a Chartreux. But what
are you looking for?"
"I am looking for the person who let down the ladder. I see
no one and yet the ladder didn't come down of itself."
"No, it is Bazin."
"Ah! ah!" said D'Artagnan.
"But," continued Aramis, "Bazin is a well trained servant,
and seeing that I was not alone he discreetly retired. Sit
down, my dear friend, and let us talk." And Aramis pushed
forward a large easy-chair, in which D'Artagnan stretched
himself out.
"In the first place, you will sup with me, will you not?"
asked Aramis.
"Yes, if you really wish it," said D'Artagnan, "and even
with great pleasure, I confess; the journey has given me a
devil of an appetite."
"Ah, my poor friend!" said Aramis, "you will find meagre
fare; you were not expected."
"Am I then threatened with the omelet of Crevecoeur?"
"Oh, let us hope," said Aramis, "that with the help of God
and of Bazin we shall find something better than that in the
larder of the worthy Jesuit fathers. Bazin, my friend, come
here."
The door opened and Bazin entered; on perceiving the
musketeer he uttered an exclamation that was almost a cry of
despair.
"My dear Bazin," said D'Artagnan, "I am delighted to see
with what wonderful composure you can tell a lie even in
church!"
"Sir," replied Bazin, "I have been taught by the good Jesuit
fathers that it is permitted to tell a falsehood when it is
told in a good cause."
"So far well," said Aramis; "we are dying of hunger. Serve
us up the best supper you can, and especially give us some
good wine."
Bazin bowed low, sighed, and left the room.
"Now we are alone, dear Aramis," said D'Artagnan, "tell me
how the devil you managed to alight upon the back of
Planchet's horse."
"I'faith!" answered Aramis, "as you see, from Heaven."
"From Heaven," replied D'Artagnan, shaking his head; "you
have no more the appearance of coming from thence than you
have of going there."
"My friend," said Aramis, with a look of imbecility on his
face which D'Artagnan had never observed whilst he was in
the musketeers, "if I did not come from Heaven, at least I
was leaving Paradise, which is almost the same."
"Here, then, is a puzzle for the learned," observed
D'Artagnan, "until now they have never been able to agree as
to the situation of Paradise; some place it on Mount Ararat,
others between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates; it seems
that they have been looking very far away for it, while it
was actually very near. Paradise is at Noisy le Sec, upon
the site of the archbishop's chateau. People do not go out
from it by the door, but by the window; one doesn't descend
here by the marble steps of a peristyle, but by the branches
of a lime-tree; and the angel with a flaming sword who
guards this elysium seems to have changed his celestial name
of Gabriel into that of the more terrestrial one of the
Prince de Marsillac."
Aramis burst into a fit of laughter.
"You were always a merry companion, my dear D'Artagnan," he
said, "and your witty Gascon fancy has not deserted you.
Yes, there is something in what you say; nevertheless, do
not believe that it is Madame de Longueville with whom I am
in love."
"A plague on't! I shall not do so. After having been so long
in love with Madame de Chevreuse, you would hardly lay your
heart at the feet of her mortal enemy!"
"Yes," replied Aramis, with an absent air; "yes, that poor
duchess! I once loved her much, and to do her justice, she
was very useful to us. Eventually she was obliged to leave
France. He was a relentless enemy, that damned cardinal,"
continued Aramis, glancing at the portrait of the old
minister. "He had even given orders to arrest her and would
have cut off her head had she not escaped with her
waiting-maid -- poor Kitty! I have heard that she met with a
strange adventure in I don't know what village, with I don't
know what cure, of whom she asked hospitality and who,
having but one chamber, and taking her for a cavalier,
offered to share it with her. For she had a wonderful way of
dressing as a man, that dear Marie; I know only one other
woman who can do it as well. So they made this song about
her: `Laboissiere, dis moi.' You know it, don't you?"
"No, sing it, please."
Aramis immediately complied, and sang the song in a very
lively manner.
"Bravo!" cried D'Artagnan, "you sing charmingly, dear
Aramis. I do not perceive that singing masses has spoiled
your voice."
"My dear D'Artagnan," replied Aramis, "you understand, when
I was a musketeer I mounted guard as seldom as I could; now
when I am an abbe I say as few masses as I can. But to
return to our duchess."
"Which -- the Duchess de Chevreuse or the Duchess de
Longueville?"
"Have I not already told you that there is nothing between
me and the Duchess de Longueville? Little flirtations,
perhaps, and that's all. No, I spoke of the Duchess de
Chevreuse; did you see her after her return from Brussels,
after the king's death?"
"Yes, she is still beautiful."
"Yes," said Aramis, "I saw her also at that time. I gave her
good advice, by which she did not profit. I ventured to tell
her that Mazarin was the lover of Anne of Austria. She
wouldn't believe me, saying that she knew Anne of Austria,
who was too proud to love such a worthless coxcomb. After
that she plunged into the cabal headed by the Duke of
Beaufort; and the `coxcomb' arrested De Beaufort and
banished Madame de Chevreuse."
"You know," resumed D'Artagnan, "that she has had leave to
return to France?"
"Yes she is come back and is going to commit some fresh
folly or another."
"Oh, but this time perhaps she will follow your advice."
"Oh, this time," returned Aramis, "I haven't seen her; she
is much changed."
"In that respect unlike you, my dear Aramis, for you are
still the same; you have still your beautiful dark hair,
still your elegant figure, still your feminine hands, which
are admirably suited to a prelate."
"Yes," replied Aramis, "I am extremely careful of my
appearance. Do you know that I am growing old? I am nearly
thirty-seven."
"Mind, Aramis" -- D'Artagnan smiled as he spoke -- "since we
are together again, let us agree on one point: what age
shall we be in future?"
"How?"
"Formerly I was your junior by two or three years, and if I
am not mistaken I am turned forty years old."
"Indeed! Then 'tis I who am mistaken, for you have always
been a good chronologist. By your reckoning I must be
forty-three at least. The devil I am! Don't let it out at
the Hotel Rambouillet; it would ruin me," replied the abbe.
"Don't be afraid," said D'Artagnan. "I never go there."
"Why, what in the world," cried Aramis, "is that animal
Bazin doing? Bazin! Hurry up there, you rascal; we are mad
with hunger and thirst!"
Bazin entered at that moment carrying a bottle in each hand.
"At last," said Aramis, "we are ready, are we?
"Yes, monsieur, quite ready," said Bazin; "but it took me
some time to bring up all the ---- "
"Because you always think you have on your shoulders your
beadle's robe, and spend all your time reading your
breviary. But I give you warning that if in polishing your
chapel utensils you forget how to brighten up my sword, I
will make a great fire of your blessed images and will see
that you are roasted on it."
Bazin, scandalized, made a sign of the cross with the bottle
