The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [269]
Felton glanced at the wall toward which he had found Milady reaching when he entered; over her head he noticed a gilt-headed peg fixed in the wall and used for hanging up clothes and weapons. He gave a start which the prisoner observed through her lashes.
“What were you doing standing on that chair?”
“What can that matter to you?”
“I wish to know.”
“Do not question me, sir, you know that we true Christians are forbidden to utter falsehoods.”
“Well, then, I shall tell you what you were doing or rather what you were about to do. You meant to complete the fatal plan you cherish. Remember, Madame, if God forbids us to lie, He forbids us much more sternly to commit suicide.”
“When God sees one of His creatures persecuted unjustly and placed between suicide and dishonor,” Milady answered with ringing conviction, “God pardons suicide because such suicide is martyrdom.”
“You say either too much or too little. Speak, My Lady. In Heaven’s name, make yourself clear.”
“Ay, you wish me to tell you my misfortunes so you may treat them as fables; you wish to know my plans so you may denounce them to my persecutor. No, I could never bear that! Besides, why should you care about the life or death of an unhappy woman, unjustly condemned? You are answerable for my body alone, are you not? Provided you produce a corpse that can be recognized as mine, no one will ask aught else of you. Indeed, you may perhaps earn a double reward.”
“I, Madame,” Felton protested indignantly. “Can you dream I would accept a reward for your life? Oh, you cannot possibly believe what you are saying.”
“Let me act as I please,” Milady cried with increasing excitement. “Every soldier should be ambitious, eh? You are now a lieutenant, are you not? Well, when you follow me to the grave you will be a captain.”
“What have I done to you,” Felton asked, “that you should burden me with such a responsibility before God and man?” He seemed considerably shaken. “In a few days you will have left here, My Lady. Your life will no longer be under my care and—” he sighed, “you can do what you will with it, because—”
As though unable to resist giving vent to a holy indignation, Milady interrupted:
“So you, a pious man, you who are called righteous and just, you ask for but one thing? And what is that thing, alas? Merely that you may not be involved in my death or held to account for it.”
“I am in duty bound to watch over your life, My Lady, and I shall do so.”
“But do you understand the mission you are charged with? A cruel enough mission if I am guilty. But what name can you give to it and what name will the Lord give to it if I am innocent?”
“I am a soldier, Madame, and I obey orders.”
“Do you actually believe that on the Day of Judgment, God will separate the blind executioner from the iniquitous judge? You refuse to let me kill my body yet you are the agent of the man who has determined to kill my soul.”
“But I repeat: no danger threatens you. I will answer for Lord Winter as I would for myself.”
“Poor deluded soul, what madness to dare answer for another when the wisest and most Godfearing dare not answer for themselves? You are ranged on the side of the strongest and most fortunate of men, even if it means crushing the helpless and most unhappy of women.”
“Impossible, Madame!” Deep in his heart Felton knew that the argument he was about to give her was a just one. “A prisoner, you shall not recover your freedom through me; living, you shall not lose your life through me.”
“True, but I shall lose something dearer than life, Felton, I shall lose my honor. And it is you I shall hold accountable before God and men for my shame and my infamy.”
Impassive as Felton was or appeared to be, this time he could not resist the secret influence which had begun to possess him. To see this woman, beautiful and splendent as a vision, to repel at once the ascendancy of grief and comeliness proved too much for him. It was beyond the power of a visionary, beyond the power of a brain undermined by the ardent dreams of an ecstatic faith, beyond the power of a heart corroded