The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [251]
Milady, her fiery eyes dilated, listened with extreme concentration.
“Thus for the present you are to remain here in this castle,” Lord Winter went on. “Its walls are thick, its doors are strong, its bars are stout. Besides, your window juts out over the deep blue sea. My men, who are devoted to me body and soul, stand watch around this apartment; they guard every passage leading to the courtyard; even if you managed by some miracle to reach the courtyard, you would still have to pass through three iron gates. My orders are positive: one step, one move, one word suggesting escape and you will be shot down. Should you be killed, English justice will, I trust, be beholden to me for having spared it some work.”
Milady stared at him coldly as though he was speaking in some foreign language.
“Ha, I see!” he said. “You are calm again, your features placid and your countenance serene as ever. ‘Two weeks,’ you say, ‘three weeks, pshaw! I have an inventive mind. Between now and then I shall contrive something. My soul was fashioned in hell, I shall soon find a victim to spirit me out of here!’ Well, Madame, my only answer is: Try it!”
Milady, her innermost thoughts betrayed, dug her nails into her flesh to restrain any expression other then one of painful apprehension. Lord Winter continued:
“The officer in command here during my absence you already know, for he brought you here from Portsmouth. You observed how implicitly he obeys orders, for I am sure you could not have traveled together all that way without your attempting to sound him out. Tell me, was marble statue ever more impassive and more mute? Ah, you have tried your powers of seduction on many men and unfortunately you have always succeeded. Now try them upon this one; by God, if you get the better of him, I shall certify you to be Satan himself.”
Walking across to the door, he flung it open:
“Send for Mr. Felton,” he ordered. Then turning to Milady: “In a few moments I shall recommend you to his care.”
A strange silence ensued between the two. Presently slow regular footsteps could be heard approaching; soon a human form loomed in the shadows of the corridor and Felton stood at attention, awaiting his master’s orders.
“Come in, my dear John,” said Lord Winter, “come in and close the door.” As the young officer obeyed: “Now, John, look carefully at this woman. She is young, she possesses all earthly seductions and charms but she is a fiend incarnate. At twenty-five this monster stands guilty of as many crimes as you could read of in a year in the archives of our courts-at-law. Her voice is prepossessing, her beauty serves as a lure for her victims; and her body pays what she promises—that, at least, I must grant her. She will attempt to seduce you, she may even attempt to kill you.”
Lord Winter coughed, looked frankly at Felton, paused for another moment, and in simple sincere tones pursued:
“I rescued you from a life of wretchedness, John; I obtained your Lieutenant’s commission for you and I once saved your life, you recall on what occasion. I am not only your protector but your friend; I am not only your benefactor but almost your father. This woman here came to England in order to plot against my life; I now hold the snake in my hands. So I have sent for you to tell you: ‘Friend Felton, my dear lad, beware of this woman for my sake but especially for yours. Swear to me by your hope of salvation that you will preserve her for the punishment she has so richly deserved. John Felton, I trust in your pledged word; Lieutenant