The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [22]
“I loved your father dearly,” he said. “What can I do for his son? Tell me quickly, for as you see my time is not my own.”
“Monsieur,” D’Artagnan explained, “on leaving Tarbes and coming here, I intended to request you, in remembrance of the friendship you have cited, to enroll me in the musketeers. But after what I have seen here during the last two hours, I understand what a tremendous favor this would be. I am afraid I do not deserve it.”
“It is indeed a favor, young man, but perhaps not so far beyond your hopes as you believe or affect to believe. At all events, His Majesty’s Regulations are explicit on that point. I am sorry to have to tell you that no one is admitted to the musketeers unless he has fought in several campaigns or performed certain brilliant feats or served at least two years in some other regiment less favored than ours.”
D’Artagnan bowed without replying. Disappointed as he was, the difficulties to be surmounted before becoming a musketeer made him all the more eager to achieve this. Monsieur de Tréville fixed a sharp, piercing glance upon his compatriot as though to read his inmost thoughts and continued:
“However, on account of my old comrade, your father, I want to do something for you, as I said. Our youths from Béarn are usually none too well off nor have I any reason to suspect that things have changed much since I myself left the province. I dare say you haven’t brought any too much money up with you?”
D’Artagnan drew himself up proudly; his expression indicated clearly that he accepted alms of no man.
“Very well, young man, I understand,” Monsieur de Tréville observed. “I know those airs; I myself descended upon Paris with four crowns in my purse and I would have fought with anybody who suggested that I could not buy up the Louvre!”
D’Artagnan drew himself up even more proudly as he realized that thanks to the sale of his nag, he was beginning his career with four crowns more than Monsieur de Tréville had possessed in similar circumstances.
“You ought, I say, to husband your resources however great they may be, but you ought also to perfect yourself in exercises befitting a gentleman. I shall write a letter today to the Director of the Royal Military Academy and he will admit you tomorrow at no expense to yourself. Do not refuse this small favor; our best-born and wealthiest gentlemen sometimes solicit it in vain. You will learn horsemanship, swordsmanship of all sorts, and dancing. You will make desirable acquaintances there and you can call on me from time to time to tell me how you are getting along and whether I can be of further service to you.”
D’Artagnan, though a stranger to the manners of the Court, could not help feeling a certain coldness in this reception.
“Alas, Monsieur!” he mourned. “My father gave me a letter of introduction to present to you. Now I realize how much it would help me.”
“I am indeed surprised that you should undertake so long a journey without that viaticum, that indispensable passport, which is the sole resource we poor Béarnais possess.”
“I had one, Monsieur, and by God! the finest I could wish for. But it was treacherously stolen from me.”
And he proceeded to relate the adventure of Meung, describing the unknown gentleman with the minutest detail and with a warmth and truthfulness that delighted Monsieur de Tréville.
“This is all very curious,” Monsieur de Tréville declared after a moment’s reflection. “You mentioned my name aloud then?”
“Yes, Monsieur, I confess I committed that imprudence. But why not? A name like yours must needs serve me as a shield on my journey. You will judge whether I often availed myself of its protection.”
Flattery was very current in those days and Monsieur de Tréville loved incense as well as any king or cardinal. He could not restrain a smile of obvious satisfaction, but this smile soon disappeared. Returning to the adventure of Meung:
“Tell me,” he asked, “did this gentleman have a slight scar on his cheek?”
“Yes, the kind of scar he might have if a bullet had grazed him. . . .”
“Wasn’t he a fine-looking