The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [274]
“Look here, my lad, you must not leave this door for any reason whatsoever. As you know His Lordship punished a soldier last night because he quitted his post for a minute, even though I myself replaced the fellow while he was absent.”
“Ay, Lieutenant, I heard about it.”
“Very well, then: be sure to keep the strictest watch. I for my part am going to inspect this woman’s room once again. I am convinced she plans to do away with herself and I have orders to keep her under observation.”
Milady thrilled as she overheard the austere Puritan telling a falsehood on her behalf. As for the soldier, he merely laughed, and:
“The deuce, Lieutenant,” he said, “you are a lucky man to have that detail, especially if His Lordship authorized you to look into her bed, too!”
Felton blushed. Under any other circumstances he would have reprimanded the soldier for taking such liberties. But his conscience was irking him too much; he opened his lips but could make no sound. He coughed. At length:
“If I call you,” he ordered briefly, “be sure to come in. And if anyone comes down the passage, call me at once.”
“Ay, Lieutenant.”
Felton then entered Milady’s room. She rose to her feet.
“So you have come?”
“I promised to; I have kept my promise.”
“You promised me something else, too.”
“What else?” the young man groaned. Despite his self-control, he felt his knees tremble. A cold sweat broke over him. “What else did I promise you?”
“You promised to bring me a knife and to leave it with me after we had talked.”
“Do not dream of that, Madame. . . . There can be no plight, however dreadful, which permits one of God’s creatures to take his own life. I have thought it over carefully. I can never be guilty of such a sin.”
“So you have thought it over, eh?” Milady sat down in her armchair and smiled contemptuously. “I have been thinking things over too.”
“What, for instance?”
“For one thing that I have nothing to say to a man who breaks his word.”
“Ah, God!—”
“You may withdraw, sir, I have nothing further to say.”
“Here you are, Madame!” Felton said, drawing the knife meekly from his pocket. He had been unwilling to produce it, but all his objections vanished before her scorn.
“Let me see it!”
“Why—?”
“I vow on my honor I will return it to you in a moment. Lay it down on this table and you can stand guard over it.”
Felton handed the weapon to Milady who carefully felt its blade and tested its point on the tip of her finger. Then, returning it to the young officer: “This is good, fine steel,” she commented. “Thank you, Felton, you are a loyal friend.”
Felton took back the weapon and laid it on the table behind him as he had agreed with the prisoner. Milady followed him with her eyes and made a gesture of satisfaction.
“Now,” she said, “listen to me.”
Her injunction was quite unnecessary; the young officer stood upright before her, curiosity writ large upon his features.
Very solemnly and in tragic tones Milady asked Felton to suppose it was his own sister, his father’s daughter, who was speaking. What would he do if she were to say to him:
“While still young and still beautiful enough for my own undoing, I was tricked and snared; I resisted! Every type of pitfall and violence was made use of; I resisted! The creed I profess and the God I adore were blasphemed because I invoked their aid in my affliction; I resisted! No outrage but was heaped upon me; I resisted. Then, as my enemy could not destroy my soul, he tried to defile my body forever. Finally—”
Milady paused. A bitter, sad little smile hovered over her lips.
“Go on, My Lady, what then?”
“Finally one evening my enemy resolved to paralyze the resistance he had been unable to overcome; one evening someone slipped a drug, a powerful narcotic, into my water. I had scarcely finished my meal than I felt myself gradually sinking into a strange torpor. I did not suspect what had happened yet a vague fear seized me. Stubbornly I sought to fight off