The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [179]
“What is more,” Milady went on, “I should long ago have revenged myself on him. But the Cardinal, I don’t know why, requested me to conciliate him.”
“But Madame has not conciliated that little woman the Gascon was so fond of.”
“You mean the mercer’s wife from the Rue des Fossoyeurs. Pooh! he has already forgotten she ever existed. A pretty revenge, that, upon my word!”
A cold sweat broke out over D’Artagnan’s brow. Truly the woman was a monster. He resumed his eavesdropping but unfortunately Kitty’s ministrations were at an end and Milady was ready for bed.
“That will do,” he heard her tell the soubrette. “Go back to your own room and, tomorrow, try again to get me an answer to the letter I gave you.”
“The letter for Monsieur de Vardes?”
“To be sure! Monsieur de Vardes!”
“Now there is a man,” Kitty observed sententiously, “who appears to me to be the very opposite of poor Monsieur D’Artagnan.”
“Go to bed, Mademoiselle,” Milady ordered curtly. “I do not relish your comments.”
D’Artagnan heard the door close, then the noise of the two bolts by which Milady locked herself up in her room; then, on her side, but as softly as possible, Kitty turned the key in the lock, and at last he opened the closet door.
“Oh, Good Lord!” said Kitty in a low voice. “What is the matter with you? How pale you are!”
“That abominable creature!” murmured D’Artagnan.
“Hush, Monsieur, hush! And please go!” Kitty begged. “There is but a thin wainscot between Milady’s room and mine; every word said in one can be heard in the other!”
“That is exactly why I will not go,” D’Artagnan explained.
“What!” said Kitty blushing.
“Or at least I will go—later.”
He drew Kitty to him. This time she could offer no resistance, for resistance would have made too much noise. Accordingly Kitty yielded.
On D’Artagnan’s part, their lovemaking was a movement of vengeance upon Milady, and gratefully he realized how right it is to describe vengeance as the pleasure of the gods. With a little more heart he would have been content with this new conquest; but he could not rise above ambition and pride. Meanwhile, to give him his due, it must be confessed that the first use he made of his influence over Kitty was to try to find out what had become of Madame Bonacieux. But the poor girl swore on the Cross that she knew nothing at all about it: her mistress only disclosed one-half of her secrets. However she believed she could say Madame Bonacieux was not dead.
As for the cause which almost made Milady lose her credit with the Cardinal, Kitty was equally ignorant. But in this instance D’Artagnan was better informed than she. Had he not seen Milady on board a vessel just as he was leaving England? Surely then it was the affair of the diamond studs that had brought disfavor down upon her head.
But the clearest thing of all was that the hatred, the deep and inveterate hatred that Milady felt for him, sprang from the fact that he had not killed her brother-in-law.
Next day D’Artagnan returned to Milady’s to find her in a very disagreeable humor; he could not doubt that her irritability was provoked by lack of an answer from the Comte de Vardes. When Kitty came in, Milady treated her very crossly. The glance the soubrette cast at D’Artagnan seemed to say:
“You see what I am going through on your account!”
Toward the close of the evening, however, the beautiful lioness grew milder; Milady listened smilingly to D’Artagnan’s honeyed compliments and even gave him her hand to kiss.
D’Artagnan departed, scarcely knowing what to think. But as he was a lad who did not easily lose his head, he had framed a little plan while continuing to pay his court to Milady.
He found Kitty at the door and, as on the preceding evening, accompanied her to her chamber. Kitty had been accused of negligence and roundly scolded. Milady could not possibly understand why the Comte de Vardes persisted in his silence;