The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [27]
“Here, Monsieur, is a handkerchief I believe you should be sorry to lose.”
Indeed, the handkerchief was richly embroidered and one of the corners bore a coronet and crest. Aramis, blushing excessively, snatched it from the Gascon’s hand.
“Ah, ah, my most discreet friend,” one of the guards said to Aramis, “will you persist in saying that you are not on good terms with Madame de Bois-Tracy when that charming lady is kind enough to lend you one of her handkerchiefs?”
The glance Aramis shot at D’Artagnan was a declaration of mortal enmity. Then, resuming his usual suave air:
“You are in error, gentlemen,” he answered. “This handkerchief does not belong to me. I cannot imagine what maggot inspired Monsieur to hand it to me rather than to one of you. As proof of what I say, here is mine in my pocket.”
Whereupon he produced his own handkerchief which was very elegant too and of fine cambric though that material was expensive at the period. But it lacked both embroidery and a crest. As he held it up, they could all see it was ornamented with a single cipher, its owner’s.
This time D’Artagnan was not so hasty. He perceived his mistake. But the others refused to be convinced by the musketeer’s denial. One of them addressed the musketeer with affected seriousness:
“If matters were as you pretend, my dear Aramis, I should be forced to ask you to hand over that handkerchief. Bois-Tracy is an intimate friend of mine and I will not allow his wife’s property to be sported as a trophy.”
“Your demand is ill-couched,” Aramis retorted. “While I recognize the justice of your claim, I refuse it on account of the form.”
“The fact is,” D’Artagnan hazarded timidly, “I did not see the handkerchief fall from the pocket of Monsieur Aramis. He had his foot on it, that is all. Seeing his foot on it, I thought it was his.”
“And you were completely mistaken, Monsieur,” Aramis replied coldly, indifferent to D’Artagnan’s efforts at reparation. Then, turning to the gentleman who had declared himself the friend of Bois-Tracy:
“As for you, Monsieur-the-Friend-of-Bois-Tracy, it occurs to me that I am on quite as intimate terms with him as you are. Thus this handkerchief might have fallen just as easily out of your pocket as out of mine.”
“No, no! On my honor as a gentleman—”
“You are about to swear on your honor and I on my word, which will make it evident that one of us is lying. Look here, Montaran, we can do better than that. Let us each take one half.”
“One half of the handkerchief?”
“Certainly!”
The other two guardsmen were enchanted:
“Quite right . . . perfectly fair . . . the judgment of Solomon . . . Aramis, you are certainly exceeding wise! . . .”
As they all burst out laughing, the affair, as may be supposed, had no untoward sequel. After a moment or two, the conversation ceased, the three guardsmen and the musketeer shook hands cordially and went off in opposite directions. D’Artagnan, meanwhile, stood sheepishly to one side.
“Now is my chance to make my peace with this gallant gentleman,” D’Artagnan thought, and, agog with good intent, he hurried after Aramis, who had moved off without paying any attention to him.
“Monsieur, you will excuse me, I hope.”
“Monsieur, allow me to observe that your behavior in this circumstance was not that of a gentleman.”
“What, Monsieur! Do you suppose—?”
“I suppose you are not a fool, Monsieur. I also suppose