The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [24]
“I came to Paris with just the intentions you advise me to harbor, Monsieur,” he replied candidly. “My father warned me to follow nobody but His Majesty, Monseigneur Cardinal, and yourself—whom he considered the three leading personages in the realm of France.”
(Monsieur d’Artagnan the elder had indicated only Louis XIII and Richelieu, but his son thought the addition of Monsieur de Tréville would do no harm.)
“I have the greatest reverence for the Cardinal and the most profound respect for his actions,” he continued. “So much the better for me, Monsieur, if as you say, you are speaking to me frankly, because, by so doing, you pay me the honor of sharing my opinion. So much the worse for me if you mistrust me, as well you may, because then I am damning myself in your eyes for speaking the truth. Still, I trust you will not esteem me any the less for my frankness since your esteem is the thing I hold dearest in life.”
Monsieur de Tréville was overwhelmed with surprise. Such penetration and sincerity won his admiration but did not wholly dissipate his suspicions; the more this youth excelled others, the more dangerous he was if Tréville misjudged him. Nevertheless, he pressed D’Artagnan’s hand, saying:
“You are an honest lad. But at present I can do for you no more than what I just offered. The Hôtel de Tréville will always be open to you. In time, you will have a chance to ask for me at all hours. Consequently you will be able to take advantage of all available opportunities and you will probably achieve what you desire.”
“You mean, Monsieur, when I have proved myself worthy?” said D’Artagnan. And, with all the familiarity of Gascon to Gascon: “Well, you may rest assured, you will not have to wait long!”
Whereupon he bowed, to take his leave, as if he considered the future so much putty in his hands to shape as he willed.
“Wait, wait!” Monsieur de Tréville laid a hand on his arm. “I promised you a letter to the Director of the Royal Academy. Are you too proud to accept it, my lad?”
“No, Monsieur, and I guarantee this letter will not fare like my father’s; I will guard it so carefully that I swear it will be delivered. If anyone attempts to take it from me, may God have mercy on his soul!”
Smiling at this extravagance, Monsieur de Tréville left D’Artagnan in the embrasure of the window, where they had been chatting, and moved to his desk to write the promised letter. While he was doing this, D’Artagnan, with nothing to occupy him, drummed a tattoo on the window pane, and amused himself by watching the musketeers as they left the building, one by one, until turning the corner, they vanished.
The letter finished, Monsieur de Tréville sealed it, rose and advanced toward D’Artagnan, who stretched out his hand to receive it. Suddenly, to Monsieur de Tréville’s amazement, his protégé turned crimson with fury.
“God’s blood. . . .”
“What’s the matter?”
D’Artagnan leaped across the room, crying:
“God’s blood, he’ll not slip through my fingers this time!”
“Who?”
“My thief!” D’Artagnan shouted as he rushed from the room. “Ah, coward! traitor! at last!”
“Devil take that madman!” Monsieur de Tréville grumbled. “Unless, failing in his mission, he is making a highly strategic escape.”
IV
OF ATHOS AND HIS SHOULDER, OF PORTHOS AND HIS BALDRIC, AND OF ARAMIS AND HIS HANDKERCHIEF
Mad with anger, D’Artagnan crossed the office in the three leaps and was darting toward the stairs, expecting to clear them four at a time, when, in his furious rush, he collided head foremost with a musketeer who was coming out of one of Monsieur de Tréville’s private rooms. As D’Artagnan butted the man’s shoulder violently, the other uttered a cry or rather a howl.
“Excuse me,” said D’Artagnan, trying to start off again. “Excuse me but I am in a hurry.”
He had scarcely gone down the first step when a hand of iron seized him by the belt.
“Oh! you’re in a hurry, eh?” said the musketeer, blanching. “You’re in a hurry so you run right into me and you say ‘Excuse me’ and you expect me to take it? Not at all, my lad. You