The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [302]
“Well, I suppose I shall have to wait here or somewhere near by.”
“I am afraid so, Milady. But be sure to tell me where you settle, so that the Cardinal’s orders can reach you promptly.”
Milady explained that she would probably be unable to stay at the convent because her enemies would be arriving at any moment.
“So this little woman is to slip through the Cardinal’s fingers?” Rochefort asked.
Again Milady smiled an enigmatic smile all her own.
“You forget I told you I was her best friend,” she answered.
“True, Milady. I can therefore tell the Cardinal that in so far as this little woman is concerned—”
“He may rest easy.”
“That is your only message?”
“His Eminence will know what I mean.”
“At least he will make a shrewd guess. Now, let us see: what had I better do?”
“You must go back at once. Surely the news I have given you deserves to be immediately communicated to the Cardinal?”
“My chaise broke down as we drove into Lilliers.”
“Excellent! Nothing could be better!”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I can use your chaise.”
“And how am I to travel?”
“Full speed on horseback.”
“Easy enough to say. But I have almost six hundred miles to cover.”
“That is soon done. A horseman like you—”
“Granted. But what then—?”
“As you pass through Lilliers, send your servant in your chaise with instructions to obey all my orders implicitly.”
“What then, Milady?”
“You must have some sort of credentials from the Cardinal, my dear Rochefort.”
“Indeed I have. I am granted full powers—”
“Show your orders to the Mother Superior . . . tell her someone or other will come to fetch me today or tomorrow . . . say that I am to follow the bearer of your note. . . .”
“Good.”
“When you speak to the Mother Superior, don’t forget to speak ill of me.”
“Why, Milady?”
“Because I am passing as a victim of the Cardinal. I must have some means of inspiring confidence in poor little Madame Bonacieux.”
“True enough. Now will you give me a detailed report of all that has happened?”
“I have told you everything,” Milady insisted. “You have an excellent memory; just repeat what I have told you. To put all that in writing is useless. Papers are easily lost.”
“Yes, but I must know where you are going. I cannot roam the neighborhood looking for you to bring you the Cardinal’s orders. Do you want a map?”
“No, no, I know this part of the country quite well.”
“Really!”
“Yes, I was brought up here,” Milady told him. “It does come in useful to have been brought up somewhere, don’t you think?”
“I shall send my chaise to you,” Rochefort decided. “But where will I find you later?”
“Let me think? Ah, I have it, Chevalier: I will stay at Armentières!”
“Where and what is Armentières?”
“A small town on the River Lys. I need but cross the river and I am on foreign soil.”
“Agreed. But you will cross the river only in case of the gravest danger—?”
“Certainly.”
“But if you cross, how shall I find you?”
“Your lackey . . . you don’t need him . . . can he be trusted . . . ?”
“I don’t need him and he is thoroughly trustworthy.”
“Let me have him,” Milady suggested. “Nobody here knows him. I can leave him at the place I leave the chaise and he can wait for you there.”
“At Armentières, then, Milady.”
“At Armentières.”
“Do write that name on a piece of paper, Milady, lest I forget it. The name of a town can compromise nobody.”
“Anything can compromise anybody,” Milady replied, “but never mind.” Tearing a sheet in half, she wrote the word “Armentières.” “I don’t mind compromising myself to that extent,” she added.
Rochefort took the paper, folded it and placed it in the lining of his hat.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I shall do as children do: for fear of losing the paper, I shall repeat the name all along the road. Is there anything else?”
“Plenty,” Milady answered with a certain asperity.
“Let me see: Buckingham dead or at death’s door . . . your conversation with the Cardinal overheard by the four musketeers . . . Lord Winter informed of your arrival at Portsmouth . . . D’Artagnan