a consolation."
"We are not yet at our destination," observed the prudent
D'Artagnan; "beware of misadventure."
"Ah, my friend!" cried Porthos, "like the crows, you always
bring bad omens. Who could intercept us on such a night as
this, pitch dark, when one does not see more than twenty
yards before one?"
"Yes, but to-morrow morning ---- "
"To-morrow we shall be at Boulogne."
"I hope so, with all my heart," said the Gascon, "and I
confess my weakness. Yes, Athos, you may laugh, but as long
as we were within gunshot of the pier or of the vessels
lying by it I was looking for a frightful discharge of
musketry which would crush us."
"But," said Porthos, with great wisdom, "that was
impossible, for they would have killed the captain and the
sailors."
"Bah! much Monsieur Mordaunt would care. You don't imagine
he would consider a little thing like that?"
"At any rate," said Porthos, "I am glad to hear D'Artagnan
admit that he is afraid."
"I not only confess it, but am proud of it," returned the
Gascon; "I'm not such a rhinoceros as you are. Oho! what's
that?"
"The Lightning," answered the captain, "our felucca."
"So far, so good," laughed Athos.
They went on board and the captain instantly conducted them
to the berth prepared for them -- a cabin which was to serve
for all purposes and for the whole party; he then tried to
slip away under pretext of giving orders to some one.
"Stop a moment," cried D'Artagnan; "pray how many men have
you on board, captain?"
"I don't understand," was the reply.
"Explain it, Athos."
Groslow, on the question being interpreted, answered,
"Three, without counting myself."
D'Artagnan understood, for while replying the captain had
raised three fingers. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "I begin to be
more at my ease, however, whilst you settle yourselves, I
shall make the round of the boat."
"As for me," said Porthos, "I will see to the supper."
"A very good idea, Porthos," said the Gascon. "Athos lend me
Grimaud, who in the society of his friend Parry has perhaps
picked up a little English, and can act as my interpreter."
"Go, Grimaud," said Athos.
D'Artagnan, finding a lantern on the deck, took it up and
with a pistol in his hand he said to the captain, in
English, "Come," (being, with the classic English oath, the
only English words he knew), and so saying he descended to
the lower deck.
This was divided into three compartments -- one which was
covered by the floor of that room in which Athos, Porthos
and Aramis were to pass the night; the second was to serve
as the sleeping-room for the servants, the third, under the
prow of the ship, was under the temporary cabin in which
Mordaunt was concealed.
"Oho!" cried D'Artagnan, as he went down the steps of the
hatchway, preceded by the lantern, "what a number of
barrels! one would think one was in the cave of Ali Baba.
What is there in them?" he added, putting his lantern on one
of the casks.
The captain seemed inclined to go upon deck again, but
controlling himself he answered:
"Port wine."
"Ah! port wine! 'tis a comfort," said the Gascon, "since we
shall not die of thirst. Are they all full?"
Grimaud translated the question, and Groslow, who was wiping
the perspiration from off his forehead, answered:
"Some full, others empty."
D'Artagnan struck the barrels with his hand, and having
ascertained that he spoke the truth, pushed his lantern,
greatly to the captain's alarm, into the interstices between
the barrels, and finding that there was nothing concealed in
them:
"Come along," he said; and he went toward the door of the
second compartment.
"Stop!" said the Englishman, "I have the key of that door;"
and he opened the door, with a trembling hand, into the
second compartment, where Musqueton and Blaisois were
preparing supper.
Here there was evidently nothing to seek or to apprehend and
they passed rapidly to examine the third compartment.
This was the room appropriated to the sailors. Two or three
hammocks hung upon the ceiling, a table and two benches
composed the entire furniture. D'Artagnan picked up two or
three old sails hung on the walls, and meeting nothing to
suspect, regained by the hatchway the deck of the vessel.
"And this room?" he asked, pointing to the captain's cabin.
"That's my room," replied Groslow.
"Open the door."
The captain obeyed. D'Artagnan stretched out his arm in
which he held the lantern, put his head in at the half
opened door, and seeing that the cabin was nothing better
than a shed:
"Good," he said. "If there is an army on board it is not
here that it is hidden. Let us see what Porthos has found
for supper." And thanking the captain, he regained the state
cabin, where his friends were.
Porthos had found nothing, and with him fatigue had
prevailed over hunger. He had fallen asleep and was in a
profound slumber when D'Artagnan returned. Athos and Aramis
were beginning to close their eyes, which they half opened
when their companion came in again.
"Well!" said Aramis.
"All is well; we may sleep tranquilly."
On this assurance the two friends fell asleep; and
D'Artagnan, who was very weary, bade good-night to Grimaud
and laid himself down in his cloak, with naked sword at his
side, in such a manner that his body barricaded the passage,
and it should be impossible to enter the room without
upsetting him.
71
Port Wine.
In ten minutes the masters slept; not so the servants
---hungry, and more thirsty than hungry.
Blaisois and Musqueton set themselves to preparing their bed
which consisted of a plank and a valise. On a hanging table,
which swung to and fro with the rolling of the vessel, were
a pot of beer and three glasses.
"This cursed rolling!" said Blaisois. "I know it will serve
me as it did when we came over."
"And to think," said Musqueton, "that we have nothing to
fight seasickness with but barley bread and hop beer. Pah!"
"But where is your wicker flask, Monsieur Musqueton? Have
you lost it?" asked Blaisois.
"No," replied Musqueton, "Parry kept it. Those devilish
Scotchmen are always thirsty. And you, Grimaud," he said to
his companion, who had just come in after his round with
D'Artagnan, "are you thirsty?"
"As thirsty as a Scotchman!" was Grimaud's laconic reply.
And he sat down and began to cast up the accounts of his
party, whose money he managed.
"Oh, lackadaisy! I'm beginning to feel queer!" cried
Blaisois.
"If that's the case," said Musqueton, with a learned air,
"take some nourishment."
"Do you call that nourishment?" said Blaisois, pointing to
the barley bread and pot of beer upon the table.
"Blaisois," replied Musqueton, "remember that bread is the
true nourishment of a Frenchman, who is not always able to
get bread, ask Grimaud."
"Yes, but beer?" asked Blaisois sharply, "is that their true
drink?"
"As to that," answered Musqueton, puzzled how to get out of
the difficulty, "I must confess that to me beer is as
disagreeable as wine is to the English."
"What! Monsieur Musqueton! The English -- do they dislike
wine?"
"They hate it."
"But I have seen them drink it."
"As a punishment. For example, an English prince died one
day because they had put him into a butt of Malmsey. I heard
the Chevalier d'Herblay say so."
"The fool!" cried Blaisois, "I wish I had been in his
place."
"Thou canst be," said Grimaud, writing down his figures.
"How?" asked Blaisois, "I can? Explain yourself."
Grimaud went on with his sum and cast up the whole.
"Port," he said, extending his hand in the direction of the
first compartment examined by D'Artagnan and himself.
"Eh? eh? ah? Those barrels I saw through the door?"
"Port!" replied Grimaud, beginning a fresh sum.
"I have heard," said Blaisois, "that port is a very good
wine."
"Excellent!" exclaimed Musqueton, smacking his lips.
"Excellent; there is port wine in the cellar of Monsieur le
Baron de Bracieux."
"Suppose we ask these Englishmen to sell us a bottle," said
the honest Blaisois.
"Sell!" cried Musqueton, about whom there was a remnant of
his ancient marauding character left. "One may well
perceive, young man, that you are inexperienced. Why buy
what one can take?"
"Take!" said Blaisois; "covet the goods of your neighbor?
That is forbidden, it seems to me."
"Where forbidden?" asked Musqueton.
"In the commandments of God, or of the church, I don't know
which. I only know it says, `Thou shalt not covet thy
neighbor's goods, nor yet his wife.'"
"That is a child's reason, Monsieur Blaisois," said
Musqueton in his most patronizing manner. "Yes, you talk
like a child -- I repeat the word. Where have you read in
the Scriptures, I ask you, that the English are your
neighbors?"
"Where, that is true," said Blaisois; "at least, I can't now
recall it."
"A child's reason -- I repeat it," continued Musqueton. "If
you had been ten years engaged in war, as Grimaud and I have
been, my dear Blaisois, you would know the difference there
is between the goods of others and the goods of enemies. Now
an Englishman is an enemy; this port wine belongs to the
English, therefore it belongs to us."
"And our masters?" asked Blaisois, stupefied by this
harangue, delivered with an air of profound sagacity, "will
they be of your opinion?"
Musqueton smiled disdainfully.
"I suppose that you think it necessary that I should disturb
the repose of these illustrious lords to say, `Gentlemen,
your servant, Musqueton, is thirsty.' What does Monsieur
Bracieux care, think you, whether I am thirsty or not?"
"'Tis a very expensive wine," said Blaisois, shaking his
head.
"Were it liquid gold, Monsieur Blaisois, our masters would
not deny themselves this wine. Know that Monsieur de
Bracieux is rich enough to drink a tun of port wine, even if
obliged to pay a pistole for every drop." His manner became
more and more lofty every instant; then he arose and after
finishing off the beer at one draught he advanced
majestically to the door of the compartment where the wine
was. "Ah! locked!" he exclaimed; "these devils of English,
how suspicious they are!"
"Locked!" said Blaisois; "ah! the deuce it is; unlucky, for
my stomach is getting more and more upset."
"Locked!" repeated Musqueton.
"But," Blaisois ventured to say, "I have heard you relate,
Monsieur Musqueton, that once on a time, at Chantilly, you
fed your master and yourself by taking partridges in a
snare, carp with a line, and bottles with a slipnoose."
"Perfectly true; but there was an airhole in the cellar and
the wine was in bottles. I cannot throw the loop through
this partition nor move with a pack-thread a cask of wine
which may perhaps weigh two hundred pounds."
"No, but you can take out two or three boards of the
partition," answered Blaisois, "and make a hole in the cask
with a gimlet."
Musqueton opened his great round eyes to the utmost,
astonished to find in Blaisois qualities for which he did
not give him credit.
"'Tis true," he said; "but where can I get a chisel to take
the planks out, a gimlet to pierce the cask?"
"Trousers," said Grimaud, still squaring his accounts.
"Ah, yes!" said Musqueton.
Grimaud, in fact, was not only the accountant, but the
armorer of the party; and as he was a man full of
forethought, these trousers, carefully rolled up in his
valise, contained every sort of tool for immediate use.
Musqueton, therefore, was soon provided with tools and he
began his task. In a few minutes he had extracted three
boards. He tried to pass his body through the aperture, but
not being like the frog in the fable, who thought he was
larger than he really was, he found he must take out three
or four more before he could get through.
He sighed and set to work again.
Grimaud had now finished his accounts. He arose and stood
near Musqueton.
"I," he said.
"What?" said Musqueton.
"I can pass."
"That is true," said Musqueton, glancing at his friend's
long and thin body, "you will pass easily."
"And he knows the full casks," said Blaisois, "for he has
already been in the hold with Monsieur le Chevalier
d'Artagnan. Let Monsieur Grimaud go in, Monsieur Mouston."
"I could go in as well as Grimaud," said Musqueton, a little
piqued.
"Yes, but that would take too much time and I am thirsty. I
am getting more and more seasick."
"Go in, then, Grimaud," said Musqueton, handing him the beer
pot and gimlet.
"Rinse the glasses," said Grimaud. Then with a friendly
gesture toward Musqueton, that he might forgive him for
finishing an enterprise so brilliantly begun by another, he
glided like a serpent through the opening and disappeared.
