The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [66]
As he reached the corner of the Rue Guénegand, he saw two persons coming out of the Rue Dauphine, a man and a woman. Their appearance struck him and, as he looked carefully at them, he realized that the woman looked very much like Madame Bonacieux and her cavalier like Aramis. The woman still wore that black mantle which D’Artagnan could visualize outlined on the shutter of the Rue de Vaugirard and on the door of the Rue de La Harpe. The man wore the uniform of a musketeer. The woman’s hood was pulled down over her ears and the man held a handkerchief up to his face.
They took the bridge, which was also D’Artagnan’s road since he was bound for the Louvre, he several paces behind them. D’Artagnan had not gone thirty feet before he was convinced that the woman was Madame Bonacieux and the man Aramis. And, as his suspicions increased, a wave of jealousy swept across his heart. So he was betrayed both by his friend and by the woman whom he already cherished as a mistress! Madame Bonacieux had sworn to him by all the gods that she did not know Aramis, and a quarter of an hour later he found her arm in arm with the musketeer!
D’Artagnan did not reflect that he had known the haberdasher’s pretty wife for just three hours, that she owed him nothing more than a modicum of gratitude for saving her from the men in black, and that she had promised him nothing. He considered himself an outraged, betrayed and ridiculed lover; the blood rushed to his face, anger possessed him and he determined to unravel the mystery.
The couple, noticing they were being followed, redoubled their speed. D’Artagnan sped forward, passed them and then turned round so as to meet them squarely in front of the Samaritaine in the lamplight. D’Artagnan stopped dead and they too halted before him. Then the musketeer stepped back and:
“What do you want, Monsieur?” he asked in a voice and with a foreign accent which immediately proved that D’Artagnan had been mistaken in one part of his conjectures.
“It is not Aramis!” he blurted.
“No, Monsieur, it is not Aramis. By your exclamation, I see you have mistaken me for someone else, and so I excuse you.”
“You excuse me?”
“Yes,” replied the stranger. “And since you have no business with me, kindly step aside and let me pass.”
“You are right, Monsieur, my business is not with you but with Madame.”
“With Madame? But you do not know her.”
“I beg your pardon, Monsieur, I know her very well.”
“Ah,” Madame Bonacieux sighed reproachfully. “I had your promise as a soldier and your word as a gentleman. I hoped I could rely on that!”
“And I, Madame,” said D’Artagnan somewhat embarrassed, “you had promised me—”
“Please take my arm, Madame,” said the stranger, “and let us go on.”
Meanwhile D’Artagnan, dazed, downcast and shocked, stood his ground. The musketeer advanced two steps and pushed D’Artagnan aside. D’Artagnan sprang backward and drew his sword. At the same time, swift as lightning, the stranger drew his.
“In the name of Heaven, Milord!” cried Madame Bonacieux throwing herself between the combatants and seizing their swords.
“Milord!” cried D’Artagnan, suddenly enlightened. “Milord! I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but can you possibly be—?”
“My Lord Duke of Buckingham,” said Madame Bonacieux in an undertone. “And now you may ruin us all.”
“Milord, Madame, I ask a hundred pardons. But I love her, Milord, and I was jealous. You know what it is to love, Milord. Pray forgive me and tell me how I may risk my life to serve Your Grace?”
“You are a worthy young man,” said Buckingham extending a hand which D’Artagnan pressed respectfully. “You offer me your services and I accept them gladly. Follow us at a distance of twenty paces. If any one shadows us, kill him.”
D’Artagnan allowed the Duke and Madame Bonacieux to take twenty steps ahead; then he followed, fully prepared to execute the orders given him by Charles the First’s minister. Happily, he found