The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [233]
“Hold on,” D’Artagnan argued, “I don’t intend to abandon Buckingham so blithely. He gave us some very handsome horses, didn’t he?”
“And some very handsome saddles, too,” chimed in Porthos who at the moment was wearing the gold lace from his on his coat.
“Besides,” Aramis said gravely, “God wishes the conversion of a sinner, not his death.”
“Amen,” said Athos, “and we shall return to the subject presently if you so desire. But my chief and immediate concern was much more urgent and I am sure D’Artagnan will appreciate this. I was determined to confiscate from that woman a kind of blanket order which she had extorted from the Cardinal and which she meant to use to get rid of you, D’Artagnan, and perhaps of all of us, with impunity.”
“But this creature is a demon!” Porthos remarked, holding out his plate to Aramis who was carving the fowl.
“What of this blanket order?” D’Artagnan asked. “Has she still got it?”
“No, I have. But I would be lying if I told you I got it without trouble.”
“My dear Athos, I shall give up counting the number of times I owe my life to you.”
“So you left us to go to her?” asked Aramis.
“Exactly.”
“And you have that letter of the Cardinal’s?” D’Artagnan queried.
“Here it is,” said Athos, drawing the precious paper from the pocket of his uniform. D’Artagnan unfolded it with a hand whose trembling he did not even attempt to conceal, and read:
December third, 1627
It is by my order and for the service of the State that the bearer of this note has done what he has done.
Signed by my hand at the Camp of La Rochelle
Richelieu
“Indeed, this is an absolution in every sense,” Aramis declared, “and in all due form.”
“We must destroy this paper,” D’Artagnan urged, for in it he fancied he read his own death sentence.
“On the contrary, we must keep it preciously,” said Athos. “I would not surrender it for as many gold pieces as would cover it.”
“Now you have the paper,” D’Artagnan ventured uneasily, “what is she going to do?”
“Oh, she will probably write to the Cardinal,” Athos replied with utmost indifference. “I suppose she will tell him that a damned musketeer named Athos forcibly robbed her of her safe-conduct. By the same token, she will probably advise His Eminence to get rid of this musketeer’s two friends Porthos and Aramis at the same time. The Cardinal will recall that these are the same men who have crossed his path so often. So one fine morning he will have D’Artagnan arrested and to save his prisoner the pangs of loneliness he will send us three to keep D’Artagnan company in the Bastille.”
“Look here, my dear fellow,” Porthos grumbled, “you seem to be making a very dull joke of it in very poor taste.”
“I am not joking,” Athos insisted.
“By God!” Porthos exploded. “To wring that damned Milady’s neck would be much less of a sin than to do so to those poor Huguenot devils who have committed no crimes other than singing in French the psalms we sing in Latin.”
“What does the Abbé have to say to that?”
“I, Athos? I say I thoroughly agree with Porthos.”
“And so do I!” D’Artagnan said warmly.
“Fortunately she is far away!” Porthos spoke consolingly. “I must confess her presence here would make me very uncomfortable.”
“Her presence in England makes me just as uncomfortable as her presence in France,” said Athos.
“Her presence anywhere makes me terribly nervous,” D’Artagnan confessed.
“But Athos, when you had her in your power,” Porthos said reproachfully, “why didn’t you drown her or strangle her or hang her? The dead alone do not come back to harm you.”
“Do you believe that, Porthos?” Athos asked, his lips twisted in a wry smile which only D’Artagnan understood.
“I have an idea,” D’Artagnan said suddenly.
“Well?”
But before D’Artagnan could speak:
“To arms, gentlemen!” Grimaud shouted.