D'Artagnan glanced at Athos and Aramis and for the first
time replied to Porthos's nudge of the knee by a nudge
responsive. Meanwhile, the soldiers whose duty it was to
remain in the king's room, attracted by that love of play so
powerful in all men, had stolen little by little toward the
table, and standing on tiptoe, lounged, watching the game,
over the shoulders of D'Artagnan and Porthos. Those on the
other side had followed their example, thus favoring the
views of the four friends, who preferred having them close
at hand to chasing them about the chamber. The two sentinels
at the door still had their swords unsheathed, but they were
leaning on them while they watched the game.
Athos seemed to grow calm as the critical moment approached.
With his white, aristocratic hands he played with the louis,
bending and straightening them again, as if they were made
of pewter. Aramis, less self-controlled, fumbled continually
with his hidden poniard. Porthos, impatient at his continued
losses, kept up a vigorous play with his knee.
D'Artagnan turned, mechanically looking behind him, and
between the figures of two soldiers he could see Parry
standing up and Charles leaning on his elbow with his hands
clasped and apparently offering a fervent prayer to God.
D'Artagnan saw that the moment was come. He darted a
preparatory glance at Athos and Aramis, who slyly pushed
their chairs a little back so as to leave themselves more
space for action. He gave Porthos a second nudge of the knee
and Porthos got up as if to stretch his legs and took care
at the same time to ascertain that his sword could be drawn
smoothly from the scabbard.
"Hang it!" cried D'Artagnan, "another twenty pistoles lost.
Really, Captain Groslow, you are too much in fortune's way.
This can't last," and he drew another twenty from his
pocket. "One more turn, captain; twenty pistoles on one
throw -- only one, the last."
"Done for twenty," replied Groslow.
And he turned up two cards as usual, a king for D'Artagnan
and an ace for himself.
"A king," said D'Artagnan; "it's a good omen, Master Groslow
-- look out for the king."
And in spite of his extraordinary self-control there was a
strange vibration in the Gascon's voice which made his
partner start.
Groslow began turning the cards one after another. If he
turned up an ace first he won; if a king he lost.
He turned up a king.
"At last!" cried D'Artagnan.
At this word Athos and Aramis jumped up. Porthos drew back a
step. Daggers and swords were just about to shine, when
suddenly the door was thrown open and Harrison appeared in
the doorway, accompanied by a man enveloped in a large
cloak. Behind this man could be seen the glistening muskets
of half a dozen soldiers.
Groslow jumped up, ashamed at being surprised in the midst
of wine, cards, and dice. But Harrison paid not the least
attention to him, and entering the king's room, followed by
his companion:
"Charles Stuart," said he, "an order has come to conduct you
to London without stopping day or night. Prepare yourself,
then, to start at once."
"And by whom is this order given?" asked the king.
"By General Oliver Cromwell. And here is Mr. Mordaunt, who
has brought it and is charged with its execution."
"Mordaunt!" muttered the four friends, exchanging glances.
D'Artagnan swept up the money that he and Porthos had lost
and buried it in his huge pocket. Athos and Aramis placed
themselves behind him. At this movement Mordaunt turned
around, recognized them, and uttered an exclamation of
savage delight.
"I'm afraid we are prisoners," whispered D'Artagnan to his
friend.
"Not yet," replied Porthos.
"Colonel, colonel," cried Mordaunt, "you are betrayed. These
four Frenchmen have escaped from Newcastle, and no doubt
want to carry off the king. Arrest them."
"Ah! my young man," said D'Artagnan, drawing his sword,
"that is an order sooner given than executed. Fly, friends,
fly!" he added, whirling his sword around him.
The next moment he darted to the door and knocked down two
of the soldiers who guarded it, before they had time to cock
their muskets. Athos and Aramis followed him. Porthos
brought up the rear, and before soldiers, officers, or
colonel had time to recover their surprise all four were in
the street.
"Fire!" cried Mordaunt; "fire upon them!"
Three or four shots were fired, but with no other result
than to show the four fugitives turning the corner of the
street safe and sound.
The horses were at the place fixed upon, and they leaped
lightly into their saddles.
"Forward!" cried D'Artagnan, "and spur for your dear lives!"
They galloped away and took the road they had come by in the
morning, namely, in the direction toward Scotland. A few
hundred yards beyond the town D'Artagnan drew rein.
"Halt!" he cried, "this time we shall be pursued. We must
let them leave the village and ride after us on the northern
road, and when they have passed we will take the opposite
direction."
There was a stream close by and a bridge across it.
D'Artagnan led his horse under the arch of the bridge. The
others followed. Ten minutes later they heard the rapid
gallop of a troop of horsemen. A few minutes more and the
troop passed over their heads.
62
London.
As soon as the noise of the hoofs was lost in the distance
D'Artagnan remounted the bank of the stream and scoured the
plain, followed by his three friends, directing their
course, as well as they could guess, toward London.
"This time," said D'Artagnan, when they were sufficiently
distant to proceed at a trot, "I think all is lost and we
have nothing better to do than to reach France. What do you
say, Athos, to that proposition? Isn't it reasonable?"
"Yes, dear friend," Athos replied, "but you said a word the
other day that was more than reasonable -- it was noble and
generous. You said, `Let us die here!' I recall to you that
word."
"Oh," said Porthos, "death is nothing: it isn't death that
can disquiet us, since we don't know what it is. What
troubles me is the idea of defeat. As things are turning
out, I foresee that we must give battle to London, to the
provinces, to all England, and certainly in the end we can't
fail to be beaten."
"We ought to witness this great tragedy even to its last
scene," said Athos. "Whatever happens, let us not leave
England before the crisis. Don't you agree with me, Aramis?"
"Entirely, my dear count. Then, too, I confess I should not
be sorry to come across Mordaunt again. It appears to me
that we have an account to settle with him, and that it is
not our custom to leave a place without paying our debts, of
this kind, at least."
"Ah! that's another thing," said D'Artagnan, "and I should
not mind waiting in London a whole year for a chance of
meeting this Mordaunt in question. Only let us lodge with
some one on whom we can count; for I imagine, just now, that
Noll Cromwell would not be inclined to trifle with us.
Athos, do you know any inn in the whole town where one can
find white sheets, roast beef reasonably cooked, and wine
which is not made of hops and gin?"
"I think I know what you want," replied Athos. "De Winter
took us to the house of a Spaniard, who, he said, had become
naturalized as an Englishman by the guineas of his new
compatriots. What do you say to it, Aramis?"
"Why, the idea of taking quarters with Senor Perez seems to
me very reasonable, and for my part I agree to it. We will
invoke the remembrance of that poor De Winter, for whom he
seemed to have a great regard; we will tell him that we have
come as amateurs to see what is going on; we will spend with
him a guinea each per day; and I think that by taking all
these precautions we can be quite undisturbed."
"You forget, Aramis, one precaution of considerable
importance."
"What is that?"
"The precaution of changing our clothes."
"Changing our clothes!" exclaimed Porthos. "I don't see why;
we are very comfortable in those we wear."
"To prevent recognition," said D'Artagnan. "Our clothes have
a cut which would proclaim the Frenchman at first sight.
Now, I don't set sufficient store on the cut of my jerkin to
risk being hung at Tyburn or sent for change of scene to the
Indies. I shall buy a chestnut-colored suit. I've remarked
that your Puritans revel in that color."
"But can you find your man?" said Aramis to Athos.
"Oh! to be sure, yes. He lives at the Bedford Tavern,
Greenhall Street. Besides, I can find my way about the city
with my eyes shut."
"I wish we were already there," said D'Artagnan; "and my
advice is that we reach London before daybreak, even if we
kill our horses."
"Come on, then," said Athos, "for unless I am mistaken in my
calculations we have only eight or ten leagues to go."
The friends urged on their horses and arrived, in fact, at
about five o'clock in the morning. They were stopped and
questioned at the gate by which they sought to enter the
city, but Athos replied, in excellent English, that they had
been sent forward by Colonel Harrison to announce to his
colleague, Monsieur Bridge, the approach of the king. That
reply led to several questions about the king's capture, and
Athos gave details so precise and positive that if the
gatekeepers had any suspicions they vanished completely. The
way was therefore opened to the four friends with all sorts
of Puritan congratulations.
Athos was right. He went direct to the Bedford Tavern, and
the host, who recognized him, was delighted to see him again
with such a numerous and promising company.
Though it was scarcely daylight our four travelers found the
town in a great bustle, owing to the reported approach of
Harrison and the king.
The plan of changing their clothes was unanimously adopted.
The landlord sent out for every description of garment, as
if he wanted to fit up his wardrobe. Athos chose a black
coat, which gave him the appearance of a respectable
citizen. Aramis, not wishing to part with his sword,
selected a dark-blue cloak of a military cut. Porthos was
seduced by a wine-colored doublet and sea-green breeches.
D'Artagnan, who had fixed on his color beforehand, had only
to select the shade, and looked in his chestnut suit exactly
like a retired sugar dealer.
"Now," said D'Artagnan, "for the actual man. We must cut off
our hair, that the populace may not insult us. As we no
longer wear the sword of the gentleman we may as well have
the head of the Puritan. This, as you know, is the important
point of distinction between the Covenanter and the
Cavalier."
After some discussion this was agreed to and Musqueton
played the role of barber.
"We look hideous," said Athos.
"And smack of the Puritan to a frightful extent," said
Aramis.
"My head feels actually cold," said Porthos.
"As for me, I feel anxious to preach a sermon," said
D'Artagnan.
"Now," said Athos, "that we cannot even recognize one
another and have therefore no fear of others recognizing us,
let us go and see the king's entrance."
They had not been long in the crowd before loud cries
announced the king's arrival. A carriage had been sent to
meet him, and the gigantic Porthos, who stood a head above
the entire rabble, soon announced that he saw the royal
equipage approaching. D'Artagnan raised himself on tiptoe,
and as the carriage passed, saw Harrison at one window and
Mordaunt at the other.
The next day, Athos, leaning out of his window, which looked
upon the most populous part of the city, heard the Act of
Parliament, which summoned the ex-king, Charles I., to the
bar, publicly cried.
"Parliament indeed!" cried Athos. "Parliament can never have
passed such an act as that."
At this moment the landlord came in.
"Did parliament pass this act?" Athos asked of him in
English.
"Yes, my lord, the pure parliament."
"What do you mean by `the pure parliament'? Are there, then,
two parliaments?"
"My friend," D'Artagnan interrupted, "as I don't understand
English and we all understand Spanish, have the kindness to
speak to us in that language, which, since it is your own,
you must find pleasure in using when you have the chance."
"Ah! excellent!" said Aramis.
As to Porthos, all his attention was concentrated on the
allurements of the breakfast table.
"You were asking, then?" said the host in Spanish.
"I asked," said Athos, in the same language, "if there are
two parliaments, a pure and an impure?"
"Why, how extraordinary!" said Porthos, slowly raising his
head and looking at his friends with an air of astonishment,
"I understand English, then! I understand what you say!"
"That is because we are talking Spanish, my dear friend,"
said Athos.
"Oh, the devil!" said Porthos, "I am sorry for that; it
would have been one language more."
"When I speak of the pure parliament," resumed the host, "I
mean the one which Colonel Bridge has weeded."
"Ah! really," said D'Artagnan, "these people are very
ingenious. When I go back to France I must suggest some such
convenient course to Cardinal Mazarin and the coadjutor. One
