The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [57]
“What’s he saying?” murmured Porthos.
“You’re a ninny!” said Athos. “Keep quiet!”
“But you promised me…” the poor mercer said in a whisper.
“We can only save you if we remain free,” d’Artagnan replied rapidly and in a whisper, “but if we make as if to defend you, they’ll arrest us with you.”
“It seems to me, though…”
“Come, gentlemen, come,” d’Artagnan said aloud. “I have no reason to defend the man. I’ve seen him for the first time today, and he’ll tell you why himself—it was to demand my rent from me. Isn’t that true, M. Bonacieux? Answer!”
“It’s the pure truth,” cried the mercer, “but Monsieur isn’t telling you…”
“Not a word about me, not a word about my friends, not a word about the queen above all, or you’ll lose everyone without saving yourself. Go on, go on, gentlemen, take the man away!”
And d’Artagnan pushed the stunned mercer into the hands of the guards, saying to him:
“You’re a knave, my dear sir; you come to ask money from me—me, a musketeer! To prison, gentlemen, I say again, take him away to prison, and keep him under lock and key for as long as you can. That will give me time to pay.”
The beagles overflowed with gratitude and went off with their prey.
As they were going downstairs, d’Artagnan slapped the chief on the shoulder.
“Why don’t I drink your health and you mine?” he said, filling two glasses with the Beaugency that he owed to M. Bonacieux’s liberality.
“It would be an honor for me,” said the chief beagle, “and I accept with gratitude.”
“So, then, to your health, M…. what is your name?”
“Boisrenard.”
“M. Boisrenard!”
“And to yours, sir. What is your name, if you please?”
“D’Artagnan.”
“To your health, M. d’Artagnan!”
“And above all the rest,” cried d’Artagnan, as if carried away by his enthusiasm, “to the health of the king and the cardinal.”
The chief beagle would perhaps have doubted d’Artagnan’s sincerity if the wine had been bad; but as the wine was good, he was convinced.
“But what the devil sort of villainy have you pulled now?” said Porthos, when the alguazil in chief had rejoined his companions, and the four friends found themselves alone again. “Pah! Four musketeers let a wretch who is calling for help be arrested right in their midst! A gentleman clinks glasses with a writ server!”
“Porthos,” said Aramis, “Athos has already informed you that you are a ninny, and I concur with his opinion. D’Artagnan, you’re a great man, and when you replace M. de Tréville, I’ll ask for your patronage in getting myself an abbey.”
“Ah, well, I’m completely lost!” said Porthos. “So you approve of what d’Artagnan has just done?”
“I think it’s splendid, parbleu!” said Athos. “I not only approve of what he’s just done, but I congratulate him for it.”
“And now, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, without bothering to explain his conduct to Porthos, “all for one and one for all—that’s our motto, isn’t it?”
“But still…” said Porthos.
“Hold out your hand and swear!” Athos and Aramis cried at once.
Defeated by example, grumbling quietly, Porthos held out his hand, and the four friends repeated with one voice the formula dictated by d’Artagnan:
“All for one and one for all.”
“Good. Now let’s each retire to his own home,” said d’Artagnan, as if he had done nothing but give orders all his life, “and watch out, for from this moment on, we’re at grips with the cardinal.”
X
A SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY MOUSETRAP
The mousetrap was not invented in our day. Once societies, in their formation, had invented any sort of police, the police in turn invented the mousetrap.
As our readers may not yet be familiar with the jargon of the rue de Jérusalem,52 and this is the first time since we began to write—and we have been at it for fifteen years—that we have used this word applied to this thing, we shall explain to them what a mousetrap is.
When, in whatever house it may be, an individual has been arrested on suspicion of some crime, the arrest is kept secret. Four or five men are set in ambush in the first room, the door is opened to all who knock, it is closed behind