The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [121]
“Keep on your guard at all times and before all else. The cardinal has a tenacious memory and a long arm; believe me, he’ll play some trick on you.”
“But what?”
“Eh, as if I know! Doesn’t he have all the devil’s wiles at his service? The least that can happen to you is that you get arrested.”
“What? Would they dare to arrest a man in His Majesty’s service?”
“Pardieu! they didn’t bother much over Athos! In any case, young man, believe a man who has been thirty years at court: don’t lull yourself into security or you’re lost. Quite the contrary, and it’s I who tell you this, see enemies everywhere. If someone picks a quarrel with you, avoid it, even if the one who picks it is a ten-year-old boy; if you’re attacked by night or by day, beat a retreat, and without any shame; if you’re crossing a bridge, test the planks, for fear one may give way under you; if you pass in front of a house under construction, look up, for fear a stone may fall on your head; if you come home late, have your lackey follow you, and let your lackey be armed—that is, if you’re sure of your lackey. Distrust everyone, your friend, your brother, your mistress—above all your mistress.”
D’Artagnan blushed.
“My mistress,” he repeated mechanically. “And why her sooner than someone else?”
“Because mistresses are one of the cardinal’s favorite means, and there is none more expeditious. A woman will sell you for ten pistoles—witness Delilah. You do know the Scriptures, hm?”96
D’Artagnan thought of the rendezvous Mme Bonacieux had granted him for that same evening. But we must say, in praise of our hero, that the bad opinion M. de Tréville had of women in general did not awaken in him the least suspicion of his pretty landlady.
“By the way,” asked M. de Tréville, “what’s become of your three companions?”
“I was going to ask if you had any news of them.”
“None, Monsieur.”
“Well, I left them along my way: Porthos at Chantilly with a duel on his hands, Aramis at Crèvecoeur with a bullet in his shoulder, and Athos at Amiens with an accusation of counterfeiting on his head.”
“So you see!” said M. de Tréville. “And you? How did you escape?”
“By a miracle, Monsieur, I must say, with a sword stroke in my chest, and by pinning M. le comte de Wardes to the Calais roadside like a butterfly to the wall.”
“So you see again! De Wardes, one of the cardinal’s men, Rochefort’s cousin. Wait, my dear friend, I’m getting an idea.”
“Say it, Monsieur.”
“In your place, there’s one thing I’d do.”
“What?”
“While His Eminence was looking for me in Paris, I’d take the road to Picardy again, with no drums and trumpets, and go to find news of my three companions. Devil take it, they deserve a little attention on your part!”
“That’s good advice, Monsieur. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? And why not tonight?”
“Tonight, Monsieur, I’m kept in Paris by an indispensable matter.”
“Ah, young man! young man! Some little amour? Take care, I repeat to you: woman was the loss of us, each and every one, and she’ll be the loss of us again, each and every one. Leave tonight, believe me.”
“Impossible, Monsieur!”
“So you’ve given your word?”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“Then that’s another thing. But promise me that if you’re not killed tonight, you’ll leave tomorrow.”
“I promise.”
“Do you need money?”
“I still have fifty pistoles. That’s as much as I need, I think.”
“But your companions?”
“They shouldn’t have run out yet. When we left Paris we each had seventy-five pistoles in our pocket.”
“Will I see you again before you leave?”
“No, I don’t think so, Monsieur, unless something new turns up.”
“Good journey, then!”
“Thank you, Monsieur.”
And d’Artagnan took leave of M. de Tréville, touched more than ever by his paternal solicitude for his musketeers.
He went successively to the quarters of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. None of them had come back. Their lackeys were also absent, and there was no news of the ones or the others.
He would have asked their mistresses about them, but he knew neither Porthos’s nor