The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [236]
“You could even say ‘Milord,’” continued Athos, who was a stickler for proprieties.
“‘Milord, do you remember that little enclosure with the goats behind the Luxembourg?’”
“Fine! Now it’s the Luxembourg! They’ll think it’s an allusion to the queen mother!172 Isn’t that clever,” said Athos.
“Well, then we’ll simply put: ‘Milord, do you remember a certain little enclosure where your life was spared?’”
“My dear d’Artagnan,” said Athos, “you’ll never be more than a very bad author! ‘Where your life was spared!’ Fie on it, that’s improper! One does not remind a gallant man of such services. A good turn remembered is an insult rendered.”
“Ah, my dear,” said d’Artagnan, “you are unbearable! If I have to write under your censorship, by heaven, I give up!”
“And right you are. Handle the musket and the sword, my dear, you do gallantly at both excercises, but pass the pen to M. l’abbé, that is his concern.”
“Ah, yes, indeed,” said Porthos, “pass the pen to Aramis, who writes theses in Latin, so he does.”
“Very well,” said d’Artagnan, “write the note for us, Aramis. But, by our Holy Father the Pope, keep it concise, for I’m going to pluck you in my turn, I warn you.”
“I ask for nothing better,” said Aramis, with that naive confidence that every poet has in himself. “But first fill me in on it: I’ve certainly heard here and there that his sister-in-law is a minx; I even had proof of it when I listened to her conversation with the cardinal.”
“Not so loud, sacrebleu!” said Athos.
“But,” Aramis continued, “the details escape me.”
“And me, too,” said Porthos.
D’Artagnan and Athos looked at each other for a time in silence. Finally Athos, after collecting himself, and turning still paler than he usually was, made a sign of acquiescence. D’Artagnan understood that he could speak.
“Well, here’s what there is to say,” d’Artagnan began. “‘Milord, your sister-in-law is a villain, who wanted to have you killed in order to take your inheritance. But she could not marry your brother, having already married in France, and having been…’”
D’Artagnan paused, as if searching for the right word, and looked at Athos.
“Driven out by her husband,” said Athos.
“Because she had been branded,” d’Artagnan continued.
“Bah!” cried Porthos. “Impossible! She wanted to have her brother-in-law killed?”
“Yes.”
“She was married?” asked Aramis.
“Yes.”
“And her husband saw that she had the fleur-de-lis on her shoulder?” cried Porthos.
“Yes.”
Athos had uttered each of these three “yesses” with a gloomier intonation.
“And who saw this fleur-de-lis?” asked Aramis.
“D’Artagnan and I, or rather, to observe chronological order, I and d’Artagnan,” replied Athos.
“And this frightful creature’s husband is still alive?” asked Aramis.
“Still alive.”
“You’re sure of it?”
“Quite sure.”
There was a moment of chilled silence, during which each of them felt himself affected according to his own nature.
“This time,” Athos picked up, breaking the silence first, “d’Artagnan has given us an excellent program, and that is what we must write first.”
“Devil take it, you’re right, Athos!” said Aramis. “And writing it is a thorny problem. M. le chancelier himself would be hard put to write an epistle to that effect, and yet M. le chancelier draws up very nice police reports. Never mind! Keep quiet, I’m writing.”
Aramis indeed took up the pen, reflected for a few moments, and set about writing eight or ten lines in a charming little feminine hand. Then, in a soft and slow voice, as if each word had been scrupulously weighed, he read the following:
Milord,
The person who writes you these lines had the honor of crossing swords with you in a small enclosure on the rue d’Enfer. As you have been quite willing, several times since then, to call yourself this person’s friend, he owes it to you to repay that friendship with a piece of good advice. Two times you have nearly fallen victim to a close relative, whom you believe to be your heir, because you are unaware that before contracting a marriage in England, she had already married in France.