The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [166]
“No need,” said the Englishman, “I’m sufficiently furnished with these sorts of utensils.”
“Well, then, my worthy gentleman,” d’Artagnan picked up, “choose the longest one and come to show it to me this evening.”
“Where, if you please?”
“Behind the Luxembourg. It’s a charming quarter for outings of the sort I’m proposing to you.”
“Very well, I’ll be there.”
“Your hour?”
“Six o’clock.”
“By the way, you probably also have one or two friends?”
“Why, I have three who will be highly honored to play the same game as myself.”
“Three? Perfect! How it all comes together!” said d’Artagnan. “That is precisely my count.”
“Now, then, who are you?” asked the Englishman.
“I am M. d’Artagnan, a Gascon gentleman, serving in the guards, in the company of M. des Essarts. And you?”
“I am Lord de Winter, baron of Sheffield.”
“Well, then, I am your humble servant, Monsieur le baron,” said d’Artagnan, “though your names are quite hard to remember.”
And spurring his horse, he set off at a gallop, and took the road back to Paris.
As he was in the habit of doing on such occasions, d’Artagnan dismounted right at Athos’s place.
He found Athos lying on a large couch, where he was waiting, as he had said, for his outfit to come and find him.
He told Athos all that had just happened, minus the letter to M. de Wardes.
Athos was delighted when he learned he was going to fight an Englishman. We have mentioned that that was his dream.
They sent their lackeys at once to fetch Porthos and Aramis, and informed them of the situation.
Porthos drew his sword from its scabbard and started brandishing it at the wall, stepping back from time to time and flexing his knees like a dancer. Aramis, who was still at work on his poem, locked himself up in Athos’s study and asked not to be bothered anymore until the moment for drawing swords.
Athos, by a sign to Grimaud, asked for a bottle.
As for d’Artagnan, he made up a little plan for himself, of which we shall see the execution later on, and which promised him a certain charming adventure, as could be seen by the smiles that passed over his face from time to time, lighting up its reverie.
XXXI
ENGLISHMEN AND FRENCHMEN
When the time came, they went with their lackeys behind the Luxembourg, to an enclosure abandoned to goats. Athos gave the goatherd a coin to keep out of the way. The lackeys were instructed to act as sentinels.
Soon a silent troop approached the same enclosure, came in, and joined the musketeers. Then, following the custom from across the Channel, introductions took place.
The Englishmen were all men of the highest quality. The bizarre names of their adversaries were thus a cause not only of surprise for them, but still more of concern.
“But, for all that,” said Lord de Winter, when the three friends had been named, “we do not know who you are, and we shall not fight with such names. Why, these are the names of shepherds!”
“And thus false names, as you rightly suppose, Milord,” said Athos.
“Which gives us all the more desire to know your real names,” replied the Englishman.
“You gambled with us well enough without knowing them,” said Athos, “so much so that you won our two horses from us.”
“That’s true, but we were only risking our pistoles; this time we are risking our blood: one gambles with anybody, one fights only with one’s equals.”
“Fair enough,” said Athos. And he drew the Englishman he was to fight with aside and told him his name in a low voice.
Porthos and Aramis did the same.
“Does that suffice you,” Athos asked his adversary, “and do you find me enough of a nobleman to do me the favor of crossing swords with me?”
“Yes, Monsieur,” the Englishman said, bowing.
“Well, and now would you like me to tell you something?” Athos went on coldly.
“What?” asked the Englishman.
“You would have done better not to insist that I make myself known to you.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I am thought dead, and I have reasons for wishing that no one know I am alive. I shall therefore