The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [65]
D’Artagnan pursued his way. He had given his word not to watch Madame Bonacieux. Had his very life depended upon this visit of hers or upon the person who was to accompany her, D’Artagnan would nevertheless have returned home, because he had so promised. Five minutes later he was in the Rue des Fossoyeurs.
“Poor Athos!” he muttered. “How can he possibly have guessed what all this is about? He probably fell asleep waiting for me or else he went home to be informed that a woman had called there. A woman under his roof! Well, why not? Aramis certainly had a woman in his place. All this is very strange and I am most curious to know how it will end.”
“It will end badly, Monsieur,” said a voice which he recognized as Planchet’s. Soliloquizing as people so often will when they are preoccupied, D’Artagnan had turned into the alley that led to his staircase.
“What do you mean, badly? Explain yourself, idiot! What has happened?”
“All sorts of misfortunes.”
“What?”
“To begin with, Monsieur Athos was arrested.”
“Arrested? Athos arrested? What for?”
“He was found in your room. They mistook him for you.”
“Who arrested him?”
“Guards brought by those men in black that you drove off.”
“Why didn’t he give them his name? Why didn’t he tell them he knew nothing about the whole business?”
Planchet explained to his master that Athos had been careful to do no such thing. On the contrary, drawing Planchet aside, he had said: “Your master knows all about this, I know nothing; he needs his liberty, I don’t need mine. The police will think they have arrested him; that should give him time. In three days, I shall tell them who I am and they will have to let me go.”
“Bravo, Athos! noble heart! how typical of him! . . . But tell me, Planchet, what did the officers do?”
“Four of them took him away I don’t know where, either to the Bastille or to Fort L’Evêque. Two stayed with the men in black, rummaging through everything and seizing all your papers. There were two more; while all this was going on, they were mounting guard at the door. When it was all over, they went away, leaving the house empty and wide open.”
“And Porthos and Aramis?”
“I could not reach them. They did not come.”
“But they may still come at any moment. You left word that I was expecting them, eh?”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“Well, you sit tight here, Planchet, and don’t budge. If they come, tell them what happened. The house may be watched, it’s too dangerous to meet here; tell them to wait for me at the Sign of the Fir Cone. I am off to Monsieur de Tréville’s to inform him of all this, then I will go to the tavern.”
“Very good, Monsieur.”
“Mind you stay, Planchet. You’re not afraid?”
“Don’t worry, Monsieur,” the lackey replied. “You see, you don’t really know me yet. I can be brave when I put my mind to it. That’s the whole point: to put one’s mind to it. Besides, I come from Picardy.”
“You would rather be killed than quit your post?”
“Yes, Monsieur. There is nothing I would not do to prove my attachment to my master.”
“Capital!” D’Artagnan mused. “Apparently I adopted the best possible method with this lad. I shall use it again on occasion.”
Then, fast as his legs could carry him—they were by now somewhat weary from their labors that day—D’Artagnan sped away toward the Rue du Vieux-Colombier. Monsieur de Tréville was not at his mansion; his company was on guard at the Louvre and he was with his company.
D’Artagnan knew he must see the Captain of Musketeers in order to inform him of developments; he must somehow try to enter the Louvre. Surely his uniform, identifying him as a guardsman in Monsieur des Essart’s company would serve him as passport?
Following the Rue des Petits-Augustins, he reached the quay and turned to the right in order to cross the Seine over the Pont Neuf.