The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [268]
Felton shook to the very marrow of his bones. Lord de Winter probably noticed this movement.
“Beware, John,” he said. “John, my friend, I am relying on you. Watch out! I warned you! Anyhow, cheer up, my boy, in three days we’ll be delivered of this creature, and where I’m sending her, she won’t harm anyone else.”
“You hear him!” Milady burst out, so that the baron thought she was addressing heaven and Felton understood that it was him.
Felton lowered his head and pondered.
The baron took the officer by the arm, looking over his shoulder so as not to lose sight of Milady until he left.
“Well, well,” said the prisoner, when the door was shut again, “I’m not as far along as I thought. Winter has exchanged his usual stupidity for a previously unknown prudence. That’s what the desire for vengeance is, and how that desire shapes the man! As for Felton, he’s hesitating. Ah, this is no man like that cursed d’Artagnan! A Puritan worships only virgins, and he worships them with clasped hands. A musketeer likes women, and likes taking them in his arms.”
Yet Milady waited patiently, for she doubted that the day would pass without her seeing Felton again. Finally, an hour after the scene we have just recounted, she heard low voices talking outside the door; soon afterwards the door opened, and she recognized Felton.
The young man came in quickly, leaving the door open behind him and making a sign for Milady to keep silent. His face was distorted.
“What do you want of me?” she asked.
“Listen,” Felton answered in a low voice, “I’ve just sent the sentry away so as to be able to stay here without anyone knowing I’ve come, so as to talk to you without anyone being able to hear what I say. The baron has just told me a frightful story.”
Milady assumed her smile of the resigned victim and shook her head.
“Either you are a demon,” Felton went on, “or the baron, my benefactor, my father, is a monster. I have known you for four days, I have loved him for ten years; thus I may well hesitate between you. Don’t be frightened by what I’m saying, I need to be convinced. Tonight, after midnight, I will come to see you, and you will convince me.”
“No, Felton, no, my brother,” she said, “the sacrifice is too great, and I can feel what it is costing you. No, I am lost, do not be lost with me. My death will be far more eloquent than my life, and the silence of the corpse will convince you far better than the words of the prisoner.”
“Be quiet, Madame,” cried Felton, “and do not speak to me like that. I have come so that you may promise me on your honor, so that you may swear to me on what you hold most sacred, that you will make no attempt on your life.”
“I refuse to promise,” said Milady, “for no one respects an oath more than I do, and, if I make a promise, I will have to keep it.”
“Well, then,” said Felton, “commit yourself only until the moment you see me again. If, once you’ve seen me again, you still persist—well, then you will be free, and I myself will give you the weapon you have asked me for.”
“Well,” said Milady, “then I shall wait for you.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear it by our God. Are you satisfied?”
“Very well,” said Felton, “till tonight!”
And he rushed from the apartment, closed the door, and waited outside, the soldier’s half pike in his hand, as if he was mounting guard in his place.
When the soldier returned, Felton gave him back his weapon.
Then, through the peephole, which she had gone up to, Milady saw the young man cross himself with rapturous fervor and go off down the corridor in a transport of joy.
As for her, she went back to her place, a smile of savage scorn on her lips, and repeated, blaspheming, the terrible name of God, by whom she had sworn without ever having learned to know Him.
“My God!” she said, “what a mad fanatic! My God is myself, myself and whoever helps me in my revenge!”
LVI
FIFTH DAY OF CAPTIVITY
Meanwhile, Milady had arrived at a half triumph, and the success doubled her strength.