The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [168]
Lord de Winter, on leaving d’Artagnan, gave him his sister’s address. She lived at number six on the place Royale,133 which was then a fashionable quarter. Moreover, he promised to come and fetch him in order to introduce him. D’Artagnan arranged a rendezvous for eight o’clock at Athos’s.
This introduction to Milady took up much space in our Gascon’s head. He recalled the strange way in which this woman had been involved in his destiny up to then. He was convinced that she was some sort of creature of the cardinal’s, and yet he felt invincibly drawn to her, one of those feelings one cannot explain to oneself. His only fear was that Milady would recognize him as the man of Meung and Dover. In that case, she would know that he was a friend of M. de Tréville, and consequently belonged body and soul to the king, which would at once cost him some of his advantage, since, if he was known by Milady as she was known by him, he would be playing an even match with her. As for the budding intrigue between her and the comte de Wardes, our presumptuous Gascon was only mildly concerned with it, though the count was young, handsome, rich, and much in favor with the cardinal. It is not for nothing that one is twenty years old, and above all that one is born in Tarbes.
D’Artagnan began by going home to put on a flamboyant costume. Then he went back to Athos’s, and, as was his habit, told him everything. Athos listened to his plans, shook his head, and, with a sort of bitterness, urged him to be prudent.
“What?” he said to him. “You’ve just lost one woman who you said was good, charming, perfect, and here you are running after another?”
D’Artagnan felt the truth of this reproach.
“I loved Mme Bonacieux with my heart, while I love Milady with my head,” he said. “In having myself brought to her, I’m seeking above all to find out what role she plays at court.”
“What role she plays, pardieu! It’s not hard to guess, after all you’ve told me. She’s some sort of emissary of the cardinal’s: a woman who will draw you into a trap, where you’ll very likely part with your head.”
“Devil take it, my dear Athos, you have a black view of things, it seems to me.”
“My dear, I distrust women—what do you want, I’ve paid for it!—and above all blond women. Didn’t you say Milady is blond?”
“She has the most beautiful blond hair you could ever see.”
“Ah, my poor d’Artagnan!” said Athos.
“Listen, I want to find out. Once I know what I want to know, I’ll go away.”
“Find out, then,” Athos said phlegmatically.
Lord de Winter came at the appointed hour, but Athos, warned in time, had gone to the other room. He thus found d’Artagnan alone, and as it was nearly eight o’clock, he took the young man away.
An elegant carriage was waiting downstairs, and as it was harnessed to two excellent horses, in an instant they were at the place Royale.
Milady Clarick received d’Artagnan graciously. Her house was of a remarkable sumptuosity; and though most Englishmen, driven out by the war, were leaving France, or were on the point of leaving, Milady had just gone to new expenses in her home, which proved that the general measure that sent the English away did not concern her.
“You see before you,” said Lord de Winter, introducing d’Artagnan to his sister, “a young gentleman who held my life in his hands, and who did not wish to make use of his advantage, though we were enemies twice over, since I had insulted him and I am also English. Thank him, then, Madame, if you have any friendship for me.”
Milady frowned slightly. A barely visible cloud passed over her brow, and so strange a smile came to her lips that the young man, who noticed this triple nuance, almost shuddered at it.
The brother noticed nothing. He had turned around to play with Milady’s favorite monkey, who had pulled him by the doublet.
“You are welcome, Monsieur,” said Milady, in a voice