The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [96]
“Let us go! I trust you, my friend.”
D’Artagnan cautiously unbolted the door and, light as shadows, the pair slipped out into the alley and mounted the stairway to D’Artagnan’s apartment.
Once there, for greater safety, the young man barricaded the door. They moved to the window and through a slit in the shutter espied Monsieur Bonacieux talking to a cloaked figure. At the sight of this man, D’Artagnan leaped up and, half-drawing his sword, sprang toward the door.
It was the man of Meung!
“What are you doing! You will ruin us both.”
“But I have sworn to kill that man!”
“Your life is now devoted to a nobler cause; from this moment on, it is not yours to risk. In the Queen’s name, I forbid you to face any danger other than that of your journey.”
“And in your own name, you order nothing?”
“In my own name,” she replied with great emotion, “I beg you to listen. I think they are talking about me.”
D’Artagnan returned to the window and listened carefully. Meanwhile Monsieur Bonacieux had opened the front door and, seeing his apartment empty, had rejoined the cloaked man.
“She’s gone,” he announced. “Probably back to the Louvre.”
“You’re sure she had no suspicions?”
“No,” Bonacieux replied self-sufficiently. “She is too superficial a woman for that.”
“Is the young guardsman at home?”
“I don’t think so. His shutters are closed; I see no light.”
“We must make sure.”
“How?”
“By knocking at his door.”
“I shall ask his manservant.”
“Go ahead!”
Bonacieux took the same stairway the fugitives had taken, stopped at D’Artagnan’s landing, and knocked at the outer door. The lovers, within, held their breath, startled. There was no answer from the front room because Porthos had borrowed Planchet that evening in order to make a show. D’Artagnan, of course, was careful to give no sign of life.
“There’s no one there,” Bonacieux reported.
“Never mind, let us go to your rooms. We shall be safer there than in the doorway.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Madame Bonacieux, “now we can’t hear them!”
“Nonsense, we shall hear all the better.” Removing four of the floor-boards, D’Artagnan spread a rug over the aperture he had made, went down on his knees, and motioned to Madame Bonacieux to stoop too. Shoulder to shoulder, they crouched listening.
“You’re sure there is no one?” the stranger was asking.
“I will answer for it.”
“And you think your wife—”
“She has gone back to the Louvre!”
“She spoke to no one but yourself?”
“I am sure of it.”
“That point is important, you understand?”
“Then the news I brought you has some value?”
“Great value, my dear Bonacieux, great value!”
“The Cardinal will be pleased with my efforts?”
“I have no doubt he will be jubilant.”
“Our great Cardinal!”
“You are quite sure your wife mentioned no one by name?”
“I think not.”
“She mentioned neither Madame de Chevreuse nor Lord Buckingham nor Madame de Vernet?”
“No. She only said she wished me to go to London to serve the interests of some illustrious person.”
(“The traitor,” Madame Bonacieux murmured.
“Silence!” D’Artagnan warned, taking a hand which she abandoned to him.)
“Never mind,” the stranger went on. “You were a ninny not to pretend to accept the commission . . . you would now be in possession of the letter . . . the State which is being threatened would have been saved . . . and you. . . .”
“And I?”
“Well, the Cardinal would probably have given you letters of nobility.”
“Did he tell you so?”
“Yes, I know he meant to surprise you in some such way.”
“All is not lost, Monsieur, my wife adores me and there is still time.”
(“The dolt,” murmured Madame Bonacieux.
“Silence!” D’Artagnan warned again, pressing her hand still more firmly.)
“What do you mean: there is still time?” the stranger challenged Bonacieux.
“I shall go to the Louvre and ask for Madame Bonacieux . . . I shall tell her that I have thought things over and that I accept . . . I shall get the letter . . . and I shall speed to the Cardinal. . . .”
“Well, be off then, quickly. I will return soon to learn the result of your errand.”
Whereupon