The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [215]
Then there were less agreeable visits, for the rumor spread two or three times that the cardinal had nearly been assassinated.
It is true that His Eminence’s enemies said he himself had set these bungling assassins afield, so that, if the case presented itself, he would have the right to reprisals. But neither ministers nor their enemies are to be believed.
Moreover, this did not stop the cardinal, whose personal bravery had never been contested even by his most dogged detractors, from making many night journeys, now to communicate important orders to the duc d’Angoulême, now to go and discuss things with the king, now to confer with some messenger whom he did not want to let into his quarters.
For their part, the musketeers, who did not have much to do at the siege, were not strictly controlled and led a merry life. This was all the easier for them—for our three companions especially—in that, being friends of M. de Tréville, they easily obtained special permissions from him to stay out late and to remain after the closing of the camp.
One evening, when d’Artagnan, who was in the trenches, was unable to accompany them, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, mounted on their chargers, wrapped in their war cloaks, one hand on their pistol butts, were coming back from a tavern that Athos had discovered two days earlier on the road to La Jarrie, and which was called the Red Dovecote.161 They were going along the road that led to camp, keeping themselves on guard, as we have said, for fear of an ambush, when, about a quarter of a league from the village of Boisnar, they thought they heard the sound of hoofbeats coming towards them. The three stopped at once, drew close together, and waited, keeping to the middle of the way. After a moment, and just as the moon came out from behind a cloud, they saw two horsemen appear around a turning of the road, who, on catching sight of them, also stopped, seeming to deliberate on whether they should continue on their way or turn back. This hesitation aroused some suspicions in the three friends, and Athos, advancing a few paces, called out in a firm voice:
“Who goes there?”
“Who goes there yourself?” answered one of the two horsemen.
“That’s no answer!” said Athos. “Who goes there? Answer, or we’ll charge!”
“Take care what you are about to do, gentlemen!” then said a vibrant voice that seemed accustomed to command.
“It’s some superior officer making his night rounds,” said Athos. “What do you wish to do, gentlemen?”
“Who are you?” said the same voice with the same tone of command. “Answer in your turn, or your disobedience may get you into trouble.”
“King’s musketeers,” said Athos, more and more convinced that he who was questioning them had the right to do so.
“What company?”
“M. de Tréville’s.”
“I order you to advance and account to me for what you are doing here at this hour.”
The three companions advanced, their ears back somewhat, for all three were now convinced that they were dealing with someone more powerful than themselves. Moreover, they left it to Athos to be their spokesman.
One of the two horsemen, the one who had spoken second, was ten paces in front of his companion. Athos made a sign for Porthos and Aramis to stay behind in their turn and advanced alone.
“Excuse us, officer,” said Athos, “but we did not know whom we were dealing with, and you could see that we were on our guard.”
“Your name?” asked the officer, who covered part of his face with his cloak.
“But you yourself, Monsieur,” said Athos, who was beginning to rebel against this inquisition, “kindly give me some proof that you have the right to question me.”
“Your name?” the horseman asked a second time, letting his cloak fall so as to uncover his face.
“M. le cardinal!” cried the stupefied