The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [240]
“Milord, do you recall the little goat pasture of the Luxembourg—?”
“Good God! The Luxembourg, now! Anyone reading that would be certain to see a reference to the Queen Mother. You’re a subtle fellow, D’Artagnan.”
“All right, let us put it this way: Milord, do you recall a certain little enclosure where your life was spared—”
“My dear D’Artagnan, you will never be anything but a very poor letter-writer. ‘Where your life was spared!’ Bah, that is ignoble. No one reminds a gentleman of such favors received. A benefit reproached is an offense committed.”
“You’re unbearable, my dear Athos. If this letter is to be written under your censure, I beg to resign.”
“You will be doing rightly, my friend. Handle musket or sword and you will always come off splendidly; but leave the pen to Monsieur l’Abbé, for literature is his province.”
“Ay,” Porthos concurred. “Hand the pen to Aramis. He writes these in Latin.”
“So be it. You draw up the note for us, Aramis. But by our Holy Father the Pope, be concise or I shall pare you and prune you to the bone, I warn you.”
“I don’t at all mind helping you,” Aramis declared with the ingenuous confidence inherent in every poet. “But let me first hear something more definite about the subject matter. One way or another I gather the sister-in-law is a vile woman; I judged as much when I listened to her conversation with the Cardinal.”
“God’s death, man, speak lower!” Athos growled.
“What I need is more facts,” Aramis elaborated. “The details escape me.”
“I’d like to know more about all this, too,” said Porthos.
D’Artagnan and Athos exchanged a long glance. Presently Athos, rousing himself from his meditation, nodded assent to D’Artagnan’s unspoken query. He was even paler than usual. D’Artagnan, feeling free to talk, said:
“You must write something of this sort, Aramis: Milord, your sister-in-law is a villainous woman who has sought to kill you in order to inherit your wealth. But she has never been really married to your brother because she still has a husband in France and because she—”
D’Artagnan paused, searching for appropriate terms. He looked askance at Athos who suggested:
“Because her husband drove her out of his house?”
“He drove her out of his house,” D’Artagnan repeated, “because she had been branded!”
“Branded?” Porthos exclaimed. “Impossible.”
“It is God’s truth!”
“And she sought to kill her brother-in-law!”
“Ay,” Athos admitted dully.
“So she was previously married in France?” Aramis asked. “That would make her a bigamist, would it not?”
“Ay,” Athos repeated hoarsely.
“And her husband discovered a fleur-de-lis branded on her shoulder,” Porthos supplied.
“Ay,” Athos said for the third time in a voice now the grimmer for being under perfect control.
“And who actually saw this brand?” Aramis inquired.
“D’Artagnan and I.” Athos coughed. “Or to observe chronological sequence, I and D’Artagnan.”
“And the woman’s first husband is still alive?”
“Very much so.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely certain,” said Athos. “I happen to be the husband.” A leaden silence fell upon them. Then, to ease the situation: “D’Artagnan has stated the argument of our letter quite clearly,” he went on; “let Aramis write it.”
“Heaven help me, Athos, this message is devilishly hard to convey. The Lord Chancellor himself would find it hard to know what to say, yet he can certainly turn a pretty phrase! No matter, hold your tongues and I shall do my best.”
Aramis took up the quill, meditated for a few moments and wrote some ten lines in a neat somewhat feminine hand. Then, speaking softly and deliberately as if each word had been scrupulously weighed, he read:
My Lord:
The person who writes these lines had the honor of crossing swords with you in the little inclosure off Rue d’Enfer. Since then, you have several times declared your feelings of friendship toward the writer.
Accordingly he considers it his duty to repay you in kind by sending you some urgent advice.
Twice already you have almost fallen a victim to a close relative of yours whom you believe to be