The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [119]
“Shall I see you before you leave?”
“I doubt it, Monsieur, unless something new turns up.”
“Well, good luck to you, lad.”
“Thank you, Monsieur.”
D’Artagnan left Tréville, more than ever touched by his paternal solicitude for the men under him, his musketeers, the crack soldiers of the Army. He had a busy evening before him. He must visit Athos, Porthos and Aramis in turn. He did so, to discover that none of them had reported home; their lackeys, too, were absent, and there was no news of masters or servants. D’Artagnan, by now desperate, would have sought news of them from their mistresses—Porthos was cherished by an attorney’s wife . . . Aramis had a highly-placed lady in the offing . . . Athos stood alone . . . But he did not know who their mistresses were. Passing by the Hôtel des Gardes, he looked into the stable. Three of the four horses Lord Buckingham had given him were already in their stalls; Planchet, much impressed, had groomed down two of them.
“Monsieur, how glad I am to see you!”
“Why, Planchet?”
“Do you trust Bonacieux, Monsieur?”
“As I would the plague.”
“How right you are, Monsieur.”
“But why do you ask me?”
Planchet scratched his brow.
“Well, Monsieur, this is what happened,” he explained. “While you were talking to Monsieur Bonacieux, I watched him. I didn’t hear a word you said but I saw him fidgeting about and I swear he turned pale and blushed and looked very uncomfortable. . . .”
“Nonsense, Planchet!”
“Monsieur did not notice all this, for Monsieur was too much preoccupied by the letter he had just received. But Planchet was on guard, Planchet was suspicious of a letter that appeared in our house supernaturally, and Planchet watched every change of expression on our landlord’s face.”
“So you—”
“So I found his every expression full of guile—”
“Indeed?”
“Pray listen, Monsieur. So soon as you turned the corner of the street, Bonacieux picked up his hat, closed the door and ran down the street.”
“Right, Planchet, the man is a suspicious character. Never mind though; we will pay no rent until we thrash all this out.”
“Monsieur jests, but we shall see—”
“Cheer up, Planchet, what is written is written.”
“Does Monsieur insist on our evening’s outing?”
“Of course I do. The more I suspect Bonacieux, the more firmly I intend to keep my appointment.”
“Then Monsieur is determined—?”
“My mind is made up, Planchet, I shall go through with this. Be here at nine, I shall come by for you.”
The lackey concluded that all hope of persuading his master to abandon his rash intent was irremediably lost. Fetching a deep sigh, he set to currying the third horse. As for D’Artagnan—at bottom a cautious fellow—instead of going home he called to dine with the Gascon priest who had once before befriended him and the musketeers, when, out of pocket, they had breakfasted with him, chocolate included.
XXIV
THE LODGE
At nine o’clock D’Artagnan, true to his word, stopped at the barracks of the Royal Guards. Planchet awaited him, fully armed. The fourth horse had arrived. D’Artagnan made sure that Planchet had his musketoon and one pistol, both primed; he himself slipped two pistols in his holsters and they rode off. It was very dark. Under cover of the darkness, they made off unseen, Planchet some ten paces in his master’s wake.
D’Artagnan crossed the quais, left town by the Porte de La Conférence and followed the road to Saint-Cloud, a pleasanter and more beautiful road than it is now.
So long as they were in the city, Planchet kept at a respectful distance; but as the road loomed up before them, ever darker and more deserted, he kept inching up closer so that as they reached the Bois de Boulogne he rode abreast of his master. Truth to tell the huge branches of the trees as they waved in the wind and the reflection of the moon in the black thickets afforded Planchet a certain anxiety. D’Artagnan could not but notice that his lackey was uneasy.
“Well, well, Planchet, what is the matter?”
“This may sound funny, Monsieur . . . I mean . . . I mean: Don’t you find that woods are very much like