Blaisois was in a state of great excitement; he was in
ecstasies. Of all the exploits performed since their arrival
in England by the extraordinary men with whom he had the
honor to be associated, this seemed without question to be
the most wonderful.
"You are about to see" said Musqueton, looking at Blaisois
with an expression of superiority which the latter did not
even think of questioning, "you are about to see, Blaisois,
how we old soldiers drink when we are thirsty."
"My cloak," said Grimaud, from the bottom of the hold.
"What do you want?" asked Blaisois.
"My cloak -- stop up the aperture with it."
"Why?" asked Blaisois.
"Simpleton!" exclaimed Musqueton; "suppose any one came into
the room."
"Ah, true," cried Blaisois, with evident admiration; "but it
will be dark in the cellar."
"Grimaud always sees, dark or light, night as well as day,"
answered Musqueton.
"That is lucky," said Blaisois. "As for me, when I have no
candle I can't take two steps without knocking against
something."
"That's because you haven't served," said Musqueton. "Had
you been in the army you would have been able to pick up a
needle on the floor of a closed oven. But hark! I think some
one is coming."
Musqueton made, with a low whistling sound, the sign of
alarm well known to the lackeys in the days of their youth,
resumed his place at the table and made a sign to Blaisois
to follow his example.
Blaisois obeyed.
The door of their cabin was opened. Two men, wrapped in
their cloaks, appeared.
"Oho!" said they, "not in bed at a quarter past eleven.
That's against all rules. In a quarter of an hour let every
one be in bed and snoring."
These two men then went toward the compartment in which
Grimaud was secreted; opened the door, entered and shut it
after them.
"Ah!" cried Blaisois, "he is lost!"
"Grimaud's a cunning fellow," murmured Musqueton.
They waited for ten minutes, during which time no noise was
heard that might indicate that Grimaud was discovered, and
at the expiration of that anxious interval the two men
returned, closed the door after them, and repeating their
orders that the servants should go to bed and extinguish
their lights, disappeared.
"Shall we obey?" asked Blaisois. "All this looks
suspicious."
"They said a quarter of an hour. We still have five
minutes," replied Musqueton.
"Suppose we warn the masters."
"Let's wait for Grimaud."
"But perhaps they have killed him."
"Grimaud would have cried out."
"You know he is almost dumb."
"We should have heard the blow, then."
"But if he doesn't return?"
"Here he is."
At that very moment Grimaud drew back the cloak which hid
the aperture and came in with his face livid, his eyes
staring wide open with terror, so that the pupils were
contracted almost to nothing, with a large circle of white
around them. He held in his hand a tankard full of a dark
substance, and approaching the gleam of light shed by the
lamp he uttered this single monosyllable: "Oh!" with such an
expression of extreme terror that Musqueton started,
alarmed, and Blaisois was near fainting from fright.
Both, however, cast an inquisitive glance into the tankard
-- it was full of gunpowder.
Convinced that the ship was full of powder instead of having
a cargo of wine, Grimaud hastened to awake D'Artagnan, who
had no sooner beheld him than he perceived that something
extraordinary had taken place. Imposing silence, Grimaud put
out the little night lamp, then knelt down and poured into
the lieutenant's ear a recital melodramatic enough not to
require play of feature to give it pith.
This was the gist of his strange story:
The first barrel that Grimaud had found on passing into the
compartment he struck -- it was empty. He passed on to
another -- it, also, was empty, but the third which he tried
was, from the dull sound it gave out, evidently full. At
this point Grimaud stopped and was preparing to make a hole
with his gimlet, when he found a spigot; he therefore placed
his tankard under it and turned the spout; something,
whatever it was the cask contained, fell silently into the
tankard.
Whilst he was thinking that he should first taste the liquor
which the tankard contained before taking it to his
companions, the door of the cellar opened and a man with a
lantern in his hands and enveloped in a cloak, came and
stood just before the hogshead, behind which Grimaud, on
hearing him come in, instantly crept. This was Groslow. He
was accompanied by another man, who carried in his hand
something long and flexible rolled up, resembling a washing
line. His face was hidden under the wide brim of his hat.
Grimaud, thinking that they had come, as he had, to try the
port wine, effaced himself behind his cask and consoled
himself with the reflection that if he were discovered the
crime was not a great one.
"Have you the wick?" asked the one who carried the lantern.
"Here it is," answered the other.
At the voice of this last speaker, Grimaud started and felt
a shudder creeping through his very marrow. He rose gently,
so that his head was just above the round of the barrel, and
under the large hat he recognized the pale face of Mordaunt.
"How long will this fuse burn?" asked this person.
"About five minutes," replied the captain.
That voice also was known to Grimaud. He looked from one to
the other and after Mordaunt he recognized Groslow.
"Then tell the men to be in readiness -- don't tell them why
now. When the clock strikes a quarter after midnight collect
your men. Get down into the longboat."
"That is, when I have lighted the match?"
"I will undertake that. I wish to be sure of my revenge. Are
the oars in the boat?"
"Everything is ready."
"'Tis well."
Mordaunt knelt down and fastened one end of the train to the
spigot, in order that he might have nothing to do but to set
it on fire at the opposite end with the match.
He then arose.
"You hear me -- at a quarter past midnight -- in fact, in
twenty minutes."
"I understand all perfectly, sir," replied Groslow; "but
allow me to say there is great danger in what you undertake;
would it not be better to intrust one of the men to set fire
to the train?"
"My dear Groslow," answered Mordaunt, "you know the French
proverb, `Nothing one does not do one's self is ever well
done.' I shall abide by that rule."
Grimaud had heard all this, if he had not understood it. But
what he saw made good what he lacked in perfect
comprehension of the language. He had seen the two mortal
enemies of the musketeers, had seen Mordaunt adjust the
fuse; he had heard the proverb, which Mordaunt had given in
French. Then he felt and felt again the contents of the
tankard he held in his hand; and, instead of the lively
liquor expected by Blaisois and Musqueton, he found beneath
his fingers the grains of some coarse powder.
Mordaunt went away with the captain. At the door he stopped
to listen.
"Do you hear how they sleep?" he asked.
In fact, Porthos could be heard snoring through the
partition.
"'Tis God who gives them into our hands," answered Groslow.
"This time the devil himself shall not save them," rejoined
Mordaunt.
And they went out together.
72
End of the Port Wine Mystery.
Grimaud waited till he heard the bolt grind in the lock and
when he was satisfied that he was alone he slowly rose from
his recumbent posture.
"Ah!" he said, wiping with his sleeve large drops of sweat
from his forehead, "how lucky it was that Musqueton was
thirsty!"
He made haste to pass out by the opening, still thinking
himself in a dream; but the sight of the gunpowder in the
tankard proved to him that his dream was a fatal nightmare.
It may be imagined that D'Artagnan listened to these details
with increasing interest; before Grimaud had finished he
rose without noise and putting his mouth to Aramis's ear,
and at the same time touching him on the shoulder to prevent
a sudden movement:
"Chevalier," he said, "get up and don't make the least
noise."
Aramis awoke. D'Artagnan, pressing his hand, repeated his
call. Aramis obeyed.
"Athos is near you," said D'Artagnan; "warn him as I have
warned you."
Aramis easily aroused Athos, whose sleep was light, like
that of all persons of a finely organized constitution. But
there was more difficulty in arousing Porthos. He was
beginning to ask full explanation of that breaking in on his
sleep, which was very annoying to him, when D'Artagnan,
instead of explaining, closed his mouth with his hand.
Then our Gascon, extending his arms, drew to him the heads
of his three friends till they almost touched one another.
"Friends," he said, "we must leave this craft at once or we
are dead men."
"Bah!" said Athos, "are you still afraid?"
"Do you know who is captain of this vessel?"
"No."
"Captain Groslow."
The shudder of the three musketeers showed to D'Artagnan
that his words began to make some impression on them.
"Groslow!" said Aramis; "the devil!
"Who is this Groslow?" asked Porthos. "I don't remember
him."
"Groslow is the man who broke Parry's head and is now
getting ready to break ours."
"Oh! oh!"
"And do you know who is his lieutenant?"
"His lieutenant? There is none," said Athos. "They don't
have lieutenants in a felucca manned by a crew of four."
"Yes, but Monsieur Groslow is not a captain of the ordinary
kind; he has a lieutenant, and that lieutenant is Monsieur
Mordaunt."
This time the musketeers did more than shudder -- they
almost cried out. Those invincible men were subject to a
mysterious and fatal influence which that name had over
them; the mere sound of it filled them with terror.
"What shall we do?" said Athos.
"We must seize the felucca," said Aramis.
"And kill him," said Porthos.
"The felucca is mined," said D'Artagnan. "Those casks which
I took for casks of port wine are filled with powder. When
Mordaunt finds himself discovered he will destroy all,
friends and foes; and on my word he would be bad company in
going either to Heaven or to hell."
"You have some plan, then?" asked Athos.
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"Have you confidence in me?"
"Give your orders," said the three musketeers.
"Wry well; come this way."
D'Artagnan went toward a very small, low window, just large
enough to let a man through. He turned it gently on its
hinges.
"There," he said, "is our road."
"The deuce! it is a very cold one, my dear friend," said
Aramis.
"Stay here, if you like, but I warn you 'twill be rather too
warm presently."
"But we cannot swim to the shore."
"The longboat is yonder, lashed to the felucca. We will take
possession of it and cut the cable. Come, my friends."
"A moment's delay," said Athos; "our servants?"
"Here we are!" they cried.
Meantime the three friends were standing motionless before
the awful sight which D'Artagnan, in raising the shutters,
had disclosed to them through the narrow opening of the
window.
Those who have once beheld such a spectacle know that there
is nothing more solemn, more striking, than the raging sea,
rolling, with its deafening roar, its dark billows beneath
the pale light of a wintry moon.
"Gracious Heaven, we are hesitating!" cried D'Artagnan; "if
we hesitate what will the servants do?"
"I do not hesitate, you know," said Grimaud.
"Sir," interposed Blaisois, "I warn you that I can only swim
in rivers."
"And I not at all," said Musqueton.
But D'Artagnan had now slipped through the window.
"You have decided, friend?" said Athos.
"Yes," the Gascon answered; "Athos! you, who are a perfect
being, bid spirit triumph over body. Do you, Aramis, order
the servants. Porthos, kill every one who stands in your
way."
And after pressing the hand of Athos, D'Artagnan chose a
moment when the ship rolled backward, so that he had only to
plunge into the water, which was already up to his waist.
Athos followed him before the felucca rose again on the
waves; the cable which tied the boat to the vessel was then
seen plainly rising out of the sea.
D'Artagnan swam to it and held it, suspending himself by
this rope, his head alone out of water.
In one second Athos joined him.
Then they saw, as the felucca turned, two other heads
peeping, those of Aramis and Grimaud.
"I am uneasy about Blaisois," said Athos; "he can, he says,
only swim in rivers."
"When people can swim at all they can swim anywhere. To the
boat! to the boat!"
"But Porthos, I do not see him."
"Porthos is coming -- he swims like Leviathan."
In fact, Porthos did not appear; for a scene, half tragedy
and half comedy, had been performed by him with Musqueton
and Blaisois, who, frightened by the noise of the sea, by
the whistling of the wind, by the sight of that dark water
yawning like a gulf beneath them, shrank back instead of
