The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [38]
The two nobles exchanged polite greetings, for, though they were not friends, they respected each other. Both were men of courage and honor and as Monsieur de La Trémouille was a Protestant, saw the King seldom, and belonged to no party, he generally allowed no bias to affect his social relations. On this occasion, however, his manner though courteous was cooler than usual.
“Monsieur,” said the Captain of Musketeers, “each of us believes that he has cause for complaint against the other. I have come here to attempt to clear up our misunderstanding.”
“I am perfectly willing, Monsieur, but I warn you that I have made inquiries and that the fault lies wholly with your musketeers.”
“You are too fair-minded and reasonable a man, Monsieur, not to entertain a proposition I should like to make.”
“Make it, Monsieur, I am at your service.”
“How is Monsieur Bernajoux, your esquire’s kinsman?”
“Very ill indeed. His wound in the arm is not dangerous but he was run through the lungs too, and the doctor is much alarmed.”
“Is he still conscious?”
“Certainly.”
“Can he talk?”
“Yes, but with difficulty.”
“Well, Monsieur, let us go to his bedside and call upon him to tell us the truth in the name of that God Whom he may have to face all too soon. I am perfectly willing to let him judge his own cause and to abide by whatever he says.”
Monsieur de La Trémouille thought the matter over for a moment, found the suggestion eminently reasonable, and agreed. Together he and Tréville repaired to the sickroom. As they entered, the patient tried desperately to rise in his bed, but his strength failed him; exhausted, he fell back on the pillows. Monsieur de La Trémouille picked up a vial of salts and pressed it against Bernajoux’s nostrils; in a few moments the guardsman came to. Unwilling to appear to be exerting pressure, the Captain of Musketeers suggested that Monsieur de La Trémouille himself question Bernajoux.
The upshot of it all was exactly as Tréville had foreseen. Hovering between life and death, Bernajoux made a clean breast of everything that had occurred. This was all that Monsieur de Tréville desired. Wishing Bernajoux a speedy convalescence, he took leave of Monsieur de La Trémouille, returned to his mansion, and immediately sent word to the four friends, inviting them to dinner.
The Captain of Musketeers entertained the most distinguished company in Paris, short of cardinalists. Quite naturally, therefore, the conversation throughout dinner dealt with the two setbacks His Eminence’s Guards had suffered. D’Artagnan, as the hero of both fights, was showered with congratulations, to the delight of Athos, Porthos and Aramis. It was not out of good fellowship alone that they envied him no whit of his success; they had themselves so often had their turn in similar circumstances that they could well afford to leave him his turn.
Toward six o’clock, Monsieur de Tréville announced that it was time to go to the Louvre. The hour of the audience granted by His Majesty was long since past, so instead of claiming entrance up the back staircase, he led the four young men into the antechamber. The King had not returned from hunting. The courtiers and others waited for about a half-hour. Suddenly all the doors were thrown open and an usher announced His Majesty the King. D’Artagnan trembled with anticipation; he was thrilled to the core for he felt that the next few minutes would probably decide the rest of his