The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [147]
“Go on, go on!” D’Artagnan urged impatiently, knowing immediately from what source so exact an identification came.
“The authorities sent me a reinforcement of six men and, acting upon their strict orders, I took all measures necessary to secure the persons of the alleged coiners.”
“Again!” D’Artagnan exclaimed, his blood boiling at the ugly word.
“Forgive me for mentioning such things, Monsieur, but they form my excuse. The authorities had terrified me and you know that an innkeeper must keep in with the authorities.”
“But where is the gentleman? What has happened to him? Is he dead? Is he alive?”
“Patience, Monsieur, I am coming to that. You know what happened and—” here the host paused, adding with an astuteness which was not lost upon D’Artagnan, “and your precipitate departure seemed to authorize what occurred. The gentleman, your friend, defended himself desperately. Unfortunately for him, through some silly misunderstanding, his valet had quarreled with the six officers who were disguised as stable boys—”
“Ah, you scoundrel, all of you were in the plot. I don’t know what stops me from exterminating the whole pack of you.”
“Oh no, Monsieur, God bless me, there was no plot at all and we were not in agreement, as you shall see! Your friend—pray forgive me for not calling him by the noble name which he doubtless bears but I do not know it—your friend put two officers out of action with his two shots. Then he retreated, covering his retreat with his sword and thus accounted for one of my men and for myself. He did not wound us, he stunned us with a blow of the flat side of the blade.”
“For God’s sake, will you have done, you villain!” D’Artagnan shouted. “Tell me what happened to Athos?”
“Well, Monsieur, he retreated as I told you, sword in hand, fighting every inch of the way, till he backed up above the stairway leading to the cellar. The door happened to be open, your gentleman appropriated the key, stepped back, slammed the door behind him and by God! he locked himself in. As the authorities knew where to lay hands on him, they left him there, free to do as he willed.”
“I see,” D’Artagnan said wryly. “As you did not wish to slaughter him, you decided to make him your prisoner instead.”
“Our prisoner, Monsieur! God help us, he imprisoned himself, I swear it! And he had done a pretty job of work: one man killed on the spot, two men badly wounded, and plenty of damage to the house. The casualties were carried away by their comrades and to this day I have heard nothing whatever about them. For my part, Monsieur, as soon as I came to my senses, I called upon Monsieur the Governor, told him all that had happened and asked him what to do with the prisoner. But the Governor was flabbergasted; he assured me he had no idea of what I was talking about: the orders I had mentioned did not come from him, he said, and if I had the stupidity or impertinence to mention his name in connection with this brawl, he would have me promptly hanged. It seems I had made a mistake, Monsieur: I had helped arrest an innocent gentleman while the coiners escaped.”
“But Athos, you imbecile, what of Athos?” D’Artagnan stormed, his indignation fanned by the cynicism of the authorities. “What happened to him?”
“By your leave, as I was anxious to right the wrongs I had done the prisoner, I betook myself straightway to the cellar to set the gentleman free. But Heaven preserve us, Monsieur, that gentleman was no longer a man, he was a forty-power demon! When I suggested he was free, he insisted it was nothing but an ambush; he would leave the cellar, he said, only upon his own conditions. Of course I fully realized what a scrape I was in for having dared to lay hands on one of His Majesty’s musketeers; so I told the gentleman very humbly that I would accept anything he proposed.”
“Get on, man, get on!”
“‘First,’ the gentleman said, ‘I want