The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [116]
D’Artagnan listened with exemplary politeness and when Bonacieux was done inquired:
“What about Madame Bonacieux? Did you find out who abducted her? I recall I owe the pleasure of your acquaintance to that unhappy circumstance!”
“Ah, Monsieur, they took good care not to tell me that and my wife has sworn to me by all that’s sacred that she does not know. But you yourself, Monsieur?” he continued in the most genial tone, “What have you been up to these last few days? I haven’t laid eyes on you and your friends for over a week . . . and it happens I saw Planchet cleaning your boots, Monsieur . . . and I vow you could not have picked up all that mud and dust on the pavements of Paris. . . .”
“Right you are, my dear Monsieur Bonacieux. My friends and I took a little trip.”
“Did you go far from Paris?”
“Heavens, no, only forty leagues or so; we took Monsieur Athos to Forges for a cure. My friends stayed on there.”
“But you came back, eh?” the haberdasher asked in the most roguish and jocular tone. “A handsome, smart young fellow like yourself doesn’t relish furloughs away from his mistress. I dare say some pretty lady has been awaiting you here with the utmost impatience.”
D’Artagnan roared with laughter:
“Upon my faith,” he declared, “I must confess you are right and the more readily because I see there is no concealing anything from you. Yes, of course I was expected here, and yes again, I was most eagerly awaited, I assure you!”
A slight shadow passed across the nondescript brow of the haberdasher, too slight by far for D’Artagnan to notice.
“Undoubtedly Monsieur will be rewarded for his diligence,” Bonacieux hazarded with a slight change of voice which D’Artagnan noticed no more than he had noticed the change in Bonacieux’s facial expression.
D’Artagnan laughed again.
“Come, my dear landlord, what are you driving at with your apparently artless questions?”
“Monsieur misjudges me. I only wondered whether you would be coming home late?”
“Why such interest in my movements, my dear host? Do you intend to sit up waiting for me?”
“No, no, Monsieur, you do not understand. But since my arrest and the robbery committed in my house, I am frightened every time I hear a door open, especially at night. Heavens, why not? After all I am no swordsman!”
“Well, do not be alarmed if I return at one or two or even three in the morning. Indeed, do not be alarmed if I do not return at all.”
This time Bonacieux turned so pale that D’Artagnan, perceiving his discomfiture, asked him what was the matter.
“Nothing, nothing!” Bonacieux said hastily. “But ever since my misfortunes I am subject to dizzy spells which come upon me suddenly; I just felt a cold shiver. Pay no attention to it; you have but one thing to occupy your mind, and that is your own happiness!”
“Then I shall be very busy for I am ecstatically happy.”
“Already? Aren’t you somewhat previous? I thought you said it was this evening—”
“Well, this evening will come, thank God! Probably you are looking forward to it as impatiently as I am. Are you expecting Madame Bonacieux to visit the conjugal domicile tonight?”
“Madame Bonacieux is not at liberty this evening,” the haberdasher said gravely. “Her duties detain her at the Louvre.”
“So much the worse for you, my dear host, so much the worse for you. As for me, when I am happy, I wish the whole world to be so. But apparently that is impossible!”
And D’Artagnan strode off, roaring with laughter over a joke he thought he alone could appreciate.
“Have a good time!” Bonacieux growled in a sepulchral tone. But D’Artagnan was out of earshot and anyhow, in his present mood, would have noted nothing amiss even if he had heard. He was bound for Monsieur de Tréville’s in order to substantiate the vague report he had submitted on his fleeting