The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [232]
“I would like to understand, though,” observed Porthos.
“There’s no need.”
“Yes, yes, Athos’s idea,” d’Artagnan and Aramis said at the same time.
“This Milady, this woman, this creature, this demon has a brother-in-law, I believe, from what you tell me, d’Artagnan.”
“Yes, I even know him quite well, and I also think he doesn’t have much sympathy for his sister-in-law.”
“There’s no harm in that,” replied Athos, “and if he detested her that would be all the better.”
“In that case we’re fully gratified.”
“However,” said Porthos, “I’d really like to understand what Grimaud is doing.”
“Quiet, Porthos!” said Aramis.
“What is this brother-in-law’s name?”
“Lord de Winter.”
“Where is he now?”
“He went back to London at the first rumor of war.”
“Well, there’s just the man we need!” said Athos. “It’s he whom we ought to warn. We’ll let him know that his sister-inlaw is on the point of assassinating someone, and we’ll beg him not to lose sight of her. I hope there’s some establishment in London like the Madelonnettes or the Reformed Girls.171 He can put his sister-in-law there, and we’ll rest easy.”
“Yes,” said d’Artagnan, “until she gets out.”
“Ah, by heaven,” Athos picked up, “you’re asking too much, d’Artagnan! I’ve given you all I had, and I warn you my sack has a bottom.”
“I think this is the best idea,” said Aramis. “We’ll warn both the queen and Lord de Winter.”
“Yes, but whom will we have carry the letters to Tours and to London?”
“I can vouch for Bazin,” said Aramis.
“And I for Planchet,” said d’Artagnan.
“Indeed,” said Porthos, “if we can’t leave camp, our lackeys can.”
“Certainly,” said Aramis. “We’ll write the letters today, give them money, and they’ll go.”
“We’ll give them money?” Athos picked up. “You have money, then?”
The four friends looked at each other, and a cloud passed over their faces, which had brightened for a moment.
“To arms!” cried d’Artagnan. “I see black spots and red spots moving about over there. What were you saying about a regiment, Athos? It’s a veritable army!”
“By heaven, yes,” said Athos, “there they are. See the sly fellows coming without drums and trumpets! Aha! you’re done, Grimaud?”
Grimaud made a sign that he was, and pointed out a dozen dead men whom he had placed in the most picturesque attitudes: some at port arms, others taking aim, others with swords in their hands.
“Bravo!” said Athos. “That does honor to your imagination!”
“All the same,” said Porthos, “I’d still like to understand.”
“Let’s decamp first,” interrupted d’Artagnan, “you’ll understand later.”
“One moment, gentlemen, one moment! Let’s give Grimaud time to clear away the dishes.”
“Ah!” said Aramis, “look, the black spots and red spots are growing visibly bigger, and I’m of d’Artagnan’s opinion. I think we have no time to waste in getting back to camp.”
“By heaven,” said Athos, “I have nothing against retreating: we bet on an hour, and we’ve stayed an hour and a half. There’s nothing to talk about. Let’s go, gentlemen, let’s go!”
Grimaud had already taken the lead with the basket and the dessert.
The four friends followed him out and went a dozen paces.
“Eh!” cried Athos, “what the devil are we doing, gentlemen?”
“Did you forget something?” asked Aramis.
“What about the flag, morbleu! A flag can’t be allowed to fall into the enemy’s hands, even if the flag is only a napkin.”
And Athos rushed back into the bastion, climbed up to the platform, and removed the flag. Only, as the Rochelois had come within musket range, they fired off a terrible volley at this man who, as if for his own pleasure, had exposed himself to their shots.
But one would have thought that Athos was wearing some sort of charm, for the bullets went whistling all around him, but not one hit him.
Athos waved his standard, turning his back to the men from the town and saluting those from the camp. Great shouts rang out from both sides, on one side shouts of anger, on the other shouts of enthusiasm.
A second volley followed the first, and three bullets, piercing