The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [267]
That evening Lord Winter entered with the servant who brought Milady’s dinner tray.
“My Lord,” she protested, “is your presence a necessary accessory to my imprisonment? Could you not spare me the increase of torment your visits cause me?”
“What, my dear sister?” Winter replied in mock surprise. “Didn’t you yourself inform me, with those same pretty lips that are so cruel today, that you had come to England for the sole purpose of seeing me quite freely! To be deprived of that joy was so grievous, you told me, that you risked everything: seasickness, tempests, even captivity! Very well, here I am; you should be grateful. What is more, this time my visit has a definite purpose.”
Convinced that Felton had spoken to him, Milady shuddered. Certainly in the course of her life this extraordinary woman had experienced the most powerful and conflicting emotions; but never before had she felt her heart beat so violently.
She remained seated; Lord Winter drew up an armchair and sat down beside her. Then he took a slip of paper from his pocket and unfolded it slowly.
“Pray examine this,” he urged, looking up at her. “I want you to see the kind of passport I myself drew up for you. Henceforth it will serve to identify you in the life I am willing to allow you to live.”
Turning away from Milady to scan the paper again, he read:
ORDER OF DUTY ON HIS MAJESTY’S SERVICE
You are hereby commanded to conduct to———the female person named Charlotte Backson, duly and lawfully condemned to branding, for crimes committed, by order of the courts of justice of the Kingdom of France, and released after fulfillment of sentence.
Said Charlotte Backson shall reside permanently in the aforementioned place, whence she shall be forbidden to adventure more than a distance of three leagues (nine miles). In the event of attempted escape, the penalty of death shall be imposed forthwith without benefit of trial. Said Charlotte Backson shall be allowed five shillings per day for board and lodging.
Lord Winter cleared his throat, folded the paper and went on:
“You will note that your place of destination has been left blank. If you have any preference, you will inform me; provided it be at least three thousand miles from London, your wish will be granted.”
“That order does not concern me,” Milady said coldly. “It bears another’s name.”
“A name? Have you a name, pray?”
“I bear your brother’s name.”
“No you do not!”
“I—”
“My brother is only your second husband; your first husband is still alive! Tell me his name and I will substitute it for Backson.”
Milady did not move.
“So, you will not tell me his name? Very well then you shall be entered on the prisoners’ docket under the name of Charlotte Backson.”
Milady said nothing but this time her silence was not a piece of strategy. She was mortally afraid. The order, she judged, was ready for execution; Lord Winter, hastening her departure, had probably condemned her to leave that very evening. For a moment her mind went blank, everything fell away from her, she was stunned. Suddenly she noticed that the order bore no signature and her joy at this discovery was beyond control. Lord Winter, his eyes fastened upon her, read her thoughts as he might read an open book.
“Yes, yes,” he said quickly. “You are looking for the signature and seal. All is not lost, you think, for the order is not signed; he is showing it to me only to terrify me, you say. But you are sorely mistaken! Tomorrow this order will go to My Lord of Buckingham; next day he will return it signed and sealed; and within four-and-twenty hours I shall myself be responsible for its execution. This is all I had to say to you, Madame: I therefore bid you good-bye!”
“And I tell you, sir,