The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [171]
D’Artagnan realized that to refuse to toast an Englishman was considered most discourteous; he therefore went over to the table and took up the second glass. He did not, however, lose sight of Milady; in the mirror he noticed an extraordinary change in her expression. Now that she believed herself to be unobserved, a fierce malevolent spark kindled her eyes and she gnawed savagely at her handkerchief.
The comely maid that had admitted them now came in again and said something in English to Lord Winter. He immediately asked permission of D’Artagnan to retire, excusing himself on the grounds of urgent business and charging his sister to obtain his pardon.
D’Artagnan shook hands with Lord Winter and returned to Milady. With surprising mobility her features had regained their gracious composure; only a few little spots of red on her handkerchief betrayed the fact that she had bitten her lips so hard as to draw blood. What lovely lips they were, too, D’Artagnan thought, proudly chiseled, sensitive and coraline.
The conversation took a more cheerful, livelier turn. Milady appeared to have completely recovered. She explained that Lord Winter was not her brother but her brother-in-law; she had married the youngest of the family who left her a widow with one child. This child was Lord Winter’s only heir, unless Lord Winter were to marry. From Milady’s remarks, D’Artagnan sensed that a veil of mystery covered her, but he could not yet see under this veil.
A half-hour of conversation convinced D’Artagnan that Milady was a compatriot; she spoke French with a purity and elegance that left no doubt on that score.
D’Artagnan, profuse in gallant speeches and lavish in protestations of devotion, uttered a good deal of nonsense; Milady, accepting it, smiled benevolently upon the gushing Gascon. When it was time for him to retire, he took leave of her, the happiest of mortal men.
On the staircase he met the pretty soubrette who brushed gently against him as she passed and, blushing to the roots of her hair, apologized for having touched him. So sweet was her voice, so charming her manner, that D’Artagnan granted her his pardon instantly.
Next day he called on Milady again to be received even better than the evening before. Lord Winter was absent, so Milady did the honors of the house. She seemed to take a great interest in him. Where did he hail from, she asked, who were his friends, and had he ever thought of entering the Cardinal’s service?
For a lad of twenty, D’Artagnan was, as we have seen, extremely prudent. Remembering his suspicions of Milady, he praised His Eminence to the skies, and assured her that he would certainly have joined the Cardinal’s guards instead of the Royal Guards had he happened to know Monsieur de Cavois as he knew Monsieur de Tréville.
Milady, changing the subject not too pointedly, asked D’Artagnan quite casually if he had ever been in England. He replied that he had been sent there by Monsieur de Tréville to negotiate for a supply of horses and that he had brought four back. Twice or thrice in the course of the conversation Milady bit her lips; D’Artagnan gathered that she realized she was dealing with a Gascon who played a cautious game.
Leaving at the same hour as on the previous evening, D’Artagnan again met Kitty, the attractive soubrette, in the corridor. She looked at him with an unmistakable expression of fervor but D’Artagnan, absorbed by thoughts of the mistress, had no eyes for the servant’s demonstration.
On the morrow, D’Artagnan returned to Milady’s for a third time, and the next day for a fourth; each time Milady received him more graciously than the last, and each time,