The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [224]
“That is correct,” the Cardinal agreed.
Without appearing to notice the Cardinal’s change of tone and attitude, Milady asked:
“Now that I have received Your Eminence’s instructions concerning his enemies, will Monseigneur permit me to say a few words about mine?”
“You have enemies, Milady?”
“Ay, Monseigneur, enemies against whom you owe me all your support, because I made them while serving you.”
“Who are they?”
“In the first place, a meddlesome, intriguing little woman called Bonacieux.”
“She is in the prison of Mantes.”
“That is to say she was there,” Milady corrected. “But the Queen obtained an order from the King whereby the Bonacieux woman was transferred to a convent.”
“To a convent?”
“Ay, to a convent.”
“What convent?”
“That, I do not know. The secret has been well guarded.”
“But I shall find out.”
“And Your Eminence will let me know where the woman is?”
“I do not see why not.”
“Good! But I have another enemy much more to be dreaded than this little Madame Bonacieux.”
“Who?”
“Her lover.”
“What is his name?”
“Oh, Your Eminence knows him well,” Milady exclaimed carried away by anger, “he is the evil genius of both of us. It was he who in an encounter with Your Eminence’s guards decided the victory in favor of the Royal Musketeers . . . who dealt your emissary de Vardes three serious wounds . . . who caused the affair of the diamond studs to fail . . . and who, knowing that I had caused Madame Bonacieux’s abduction, has sworn my death. . . .”
“Ah! I know whom you—”
“I mean that scoundrel D’Artagnan.”
“He is a bold fellow.”
“That makes him the more dangerous.”
“I must have a proof of his connection with Buckingham.”
“A proof!” cried Milady. “I will furnish Your Eminence with ten!”
“In that case, nothing could be simpler. Give me that proof and I will send him to the Bastille.”
“Capital, Monseigneur!” Milady beamed. “But afterward?”
“Once a man is in the Bastille, there is no afterward,” said the Cardinal in a hollow voice. “By my faith, if my enemy were as easy to get rid of as yours are, and if it was against such people that you craved impunity—”
“Monseigneur,” Milady rejoined, “bargain for bargain, life for life, man for man: give me one, I will give you the other.”
“I do not know what you mean nor do I even care to know. But I do wish to be of service to you and I see no objection to granting you what you ask with regard to so insignificant a creature, especially since you say that this paltry fellow D’Artagnan is a libertine, a duelist and a traitor.”
“A scoundrel, Monseigneur, an infamous scoundrel.”
“Give me paper, a quill and some ink, then.”
“Here they are, Monseigneur.”
There was a moment of silence; the Cardinal was perhaps thinking of what terms to use or perhaps actually writing the note. Athos, who had lost no word of the conversation, took his companions by the hand and led them to the far end of the room.
“What do you want?” Porthos asked. “And why do you not let us hear the end of the conversation?”
“Hush!” Athos warned. “We have heard all we need to hear. Besides I am not preventing you from listening to the end. But I must be off.”
“Off where?” Porthos challenged. “And if the Cardinal asks for you, what are we to tell him?”
“Do not wait until he asks for me. Speak before he does. Tell him I have gone on the lookout because the landlord gave me reason to believe that the road is unsafe. I will tell the Cardinal’s esquire the same thing. As for the rest, that is my business. Leave it to me and do not worry.”
“Be cautious, Athos!” Aramis counseled.
“You may rest easy on that score. You know I am a cool customer!”
Porthos and Aramis returned to their places by the stovepipe.
Meanwhile Athos went out casually, took his horse, which was tied to the shutter with those of his friends, convinced the esquire in a few words of the necessity