The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [168]
“I trust you have a sword at home, Monsieur. If not, I happen to have two and we can dice for who is to wield which.”
“That is quite needless,” the Englishman answered haughtily. “I have plenty of such playthings.”
“Well then, Monsieur, pray pick out your longest toy and let me see the color of it this evening.”
“Where, if you please?”
“Behind the Luxembourg, a delightful place indicated in every way for the game I suggest we play.”
“Agreed: I shall be there.”
“Your hour?”
“Six o’clock.”
“By the by, Monsieur, you doubtless have one or two friends to second you?”
“I have three who will be honored to join in our amusement.”
“Three? Splendid! The very thing! I too have three friends who will support me. I might add that three is my lucky number.”
“May I ask who you are, Monsieur?”
“I am Monsieur D’Artagnan, a Gascon gentleman, serving in the Royal Guards; my Commanding Officer is Monsieur des Essarts.”
“I am Lord Winter, Baron of Sheffield.”
“Your servant, Monsieur le Baron, though your names are hard to remember.”
Whereupon D’Artagnan bowed, set spurs to his horse and galloped off toward Paris. As usual when a crisis occurred he made straight for the Rue Férou where he found Athos reclining on a large sofa, waiting, as he said, for his campaign equipment to come to find him. D’Artagnan related all that had happened save the circumstance of Milady’s letter to Monsieur de Vardes.
Athos was delighted to learn that he was to fight against an Englishman; it represented his sole ambition and delight in life. They lost no time in dispatching the lackeys for Porthos and Aramis who were speedily informed of the situation.
Porthos drew his sword from his scabbard and made passes at the wall, springing back from time to time to flex his knees like a dancer . . . Aramis, who was still working on his poem, closeted himself in the room Athos used for a study, requesting to be left alone until the moment came to draw swords . . . Athos motioned to Grimaud for a bottle . . . and D’Artagnan, elaborating a promising and pleasurable little plan of his own, smiled now and again in anticipation of future joys. . . .
XXXI
ENGLISHMEN AND FRENCHMEN
At the appointed hour our four friends and their lackeys repaired behind the Palais du Luxembourg to an inclosure used as grazing ground for goats. Athos gave the herder a coin to insure his withdrawal; the lackeys were posted as sentinels. Soon another party of four drew up in a coach, entered the enclosure and joined the musketeers. Then, according to English custom, introductions were in order.
The Englishmen, all men of high rank, were not only surprised but considerably disturbed by the odd names of their adversaries. When Athos, Porthos and Aramis announced their names Lord Winter objected.
“But, gentlemen, we do not know who you are. We refuse to fight against persons with such names; they are names of shepherds!”
“As you have guessed, Milord, these are but names we have assumed,” Athos explained.
“That makes us the more eager to know your real names,” the Englishman answered.
“You were perfectly willing to gamble with us, whatever our names,” Athos objected. “In fact, you won our horses without being particularly formal about it.”
“True, but we risked only our money; now we are risking our lives. A gentleman gambles with anybody, he fights only with his fellow-gentlemen.”
“True enough!” Athos conceded, and, drawing his own adversary aside, he whispered his real name. Porthos and Aramis followed suit and three of the four Englishmen were convinced they were not dealing with shepherds.
“Are you satisfied?” Athos asked his adversary. “Do you consider me noble enough to condescend to cross swords with me?”
“Certainly, Monsieur,” said the Englishman, bowing.
“Well then, may I tell you something?” Athos asked coldly.
“If you will.”
“I say this: You would have done better not to ask me who I am.”
“Pray why?”
“Because I am down on the records as a dead man and I propose to remain so. I shall therefore