Chapter III: The Stag Hunt (4)

"There was a remarkable contrast in the appearance of these two
guardsmen. One was a man of gigantic stature, loud-voiced, and of
stern and haughty countenance; the other, on the contrary, was of
gentle and _naïve_ physiognomy, with smooth rosy cheeks, a soft
expression in his black eye, a delicate mustache on his upper lip,
white hands, and a voice and smile remarkable for their mildness.
The bearing of these two gentlemen upon entering the presence of
their captain, showed a happy mixture of submission and dignity,
which excited the admiration of D'Artagnan, who was already
disposed to look upon the mousquetaires as demigods, and upon
their chief as an Olympic Jupiter, armed with all his thunders.

"Monsieur de Treville took two or three turns up and down the
apartment, silent, and with a contracted brow, passing each time
before Porthos and Aramis, who remained mute and immoveable as if
upon the parade ground. Suddenly he stopped, and measured them
from head to foot with an angry glance.

"'Do you know what the King told me, gentlemen, and that no longer
ago than yesternight? Do you know, I say, what his Majesty told
me?'

"'No,' replied the two guardsmen after a moment's silence. 'No,
sir, we do not know it.'

"'But I hope you will do us the honour to inform us,' said Aramis
in his most polite tone, and with his most graceful bow.

"'He told me that henceforward he would recruit his mousquetaires
from among the guards of Monsieur le Cardinal.'

"'Among the guards of Monsieur le Cardinal! And why so?' demanded
Porthos abruptly.

"'Because he finds that his own sour wine requires to be improved
by the admixture of some more generous liquor.'

"The two guardsmen coloured up to the eyes. D'Artagnan felt
uncertain whether he was standing on his head or his heels.

"'Yes,' continued Monsieur de Treville with increased vivacity,
'and his Majesty is right; for, by my honour, the mousquetaires
cut a sorry figure at the court! Monsieur le Cardinal was relating
yesterday at the King's card-table, in a tone of condolence that
displeased me no little, how those infernal mousquetaires, those
_sabreurs_ as he ironically called them, had forgotten themselves
over their bottle at a tavern in the Rue Ferou, and how a patrol
of his guards had found it necessary to arrest them. I thought he
was going to laugh in my face as he said the words, looking at me
all the time with his tiger-cat eyes. _Morbleu!_ you ought to know
something about it. You were amongst them; the cardinal named you.
Mousquetaires, indeed, who allow themselves to be arrested! But it
is my fault for not choosing my men better. What the devil
possessed you, Aramis, to ask me for a guardsman's uniform, when a
priest's surplice would have fitted you better? And you, Porthos,
what is the use of your wearing that magnificent embroidered
sword-belt, if the weapon it supports is of such small service to
you? And Athos, I do not see Athos. Where is he?'

"'Sir,' replied Aramis gravely, 'he is ill--very ill.'

"'Ill, say you? And of what disease?'

"'It is feared that it is the small-pox, sir,' replied Porthos,
who was desirous of putting in a word. 'It would be a great pity,
for it would assuredly spoil his appearance.'

"'The small-pox! A fine story indeed! The small-pox at his age!
Not so! But wounded, I suppose--killed perhaps. _Sangdieu!_
Messieurs les Mousquetaires, I insist upon your ceasing to
frequent taverns and places of bad repute. I will have no more
brawling and sword-playing in the public streets. I will not have
my regiment made a laughing-stock to the Cardinal's guards, who
are brave fellows, prudent and quiet--who do not get themselves
into trouble, and if they did, would not allow themselves to be
arrested. Not they! They would sooner die upon the spot than
recede an inch. It is only the King's mousquetaires who run away
or are taken prisoners.'

"Porthos and Aramis trembled with rage. They would willingly have
strangled their chief, if they had not felt that it was the great
affection he bore them that induced him to speak thus harshly.
They bit their lips till the blood came, and clutched the hilts of
their swords in silent fury. Several of the guardsmen in the
anteroom, who had heard Monsieur de Treville's summons to Athos,
Porthos, and Aramis, and suspected what was going on, had applied
their ears to the tapestry, and lost not a word of their captain's
reproaches, which they repeated to those around them, who in their
turn repeated them to their comrades on the staircase and in the
courtyard. In an instant, from the anteroom to the street, all was
commotion.

"'Ha! his Majesty's mousquetaires allow themselves to be arrested
by the Cardinal's guards!' continued Monsieur de Treville, who was
as furious as his soldiers. 'Aha! sirs, six of his Eminence's
guards arrest six of the King's! _Morbleu!_ I have made up my mind
what to do. I will go at once to the Louvre, resign my post as
captain of mousquetaires, and solicit a lieutenancy in the
Cardinal's guards; and if I am refused, _morbleu!_ I will turn
priest!'

"At these words the murmur outside the audience chamber became an
explosion. On all sides oaths and blasphemies were resounding.
D'Artagnan looked about for a place to hide himself. He felt a
strong inclination to get under the table.

"'Well, captain,' said Porthos, who was completely beside himself
with rage and vexation, 'the truth is that we were six against
six; but they attacked us treacherously; and before we could draw
a sword, two of us were dead men, and Athos desperately wounded
and equally useless. You know Athos, captain; well, twice he tried
to get up, and twice he fell down again. Nevertheless, we did not
yield ourselves prisoners; we were taken off by main force, and on
the way to the guard-house we managed to break away from them. As
to Athos, they thought him dead, and left him on the ground. That
is the real truth of the matter. And what then, captain! One
cannot win every battle. The great Pompey lost that of Pharsalia,
and Francis I., who, from what I have heard, was no fool in the
fighting way, got roughly handled at Pavia.'

"'And I have the honour to assure you, sir,' said Aramis, 'that I
killed one of the guards with his own sword, for mine was broken
at the first onset.'

"'I did not know that,' said Treville in a more gentle tone. 'I
see that the Cardinal exaggerated matters.'

"'But for heaven's sake, sir,' continued Aramis, encouraged by the
softened manner of his commander, 'for heaven's sake, do not
mention that Athos is wounded: he would be in despair if the King
heard of it; and as the wound is very serious, having passed
through the shoulder and entered the breast, it is to be
feared....'

"At this moment the tapestry that covered the door was raised, and
the head of a man of noble aspect and handsome features, but
fearfully pale, appeared below the fringe.

"'Athos!' exclaimed the two guardsmen.

"'Athos!' repeated Monsieur de Treville himself.

"You asked for me, sir,' said Athos to Monsieur de Treville, in a
calm but enfeebled voice--'my comrades told me that you asked for
me, and I hastened to obey your summons.'

"And so saying, the mousquetaire entered the room with a tolerably
firm step, in full uniform and belted as usual. Monsieur de
Treville, touched to the soul by this proof of courage, sprang to
meet him.

"'I was telling these gentlemen,' said he, 'that I forbid my
mousquetaires to expose their lives without necessity; that brave
men are very dear to the King, and his Majesty knows that his
mousquetaires are the bravest men upon the face of the earth. Your
hand, Athos!'

"And without waiting for the new comer to hold out his right hand,
Monsieur de Treville seized and pressed it energetically, not
observing that Athos, in spite of his command over himself,
writhed with pain, and grew each moment paler than before. The
room-door had remained half open, and a loud murmur of
satisfaction from without replied to the words addressed to Athos
by Monsieur de Treville. The heads of two or three mousquetaires,
who forgot themselves in the enthusiasm of the moment, appeared at
the opening of the tapestry. Doubtless Monsieur de Treville was
about to check sharply this infraction of the laws of etiquette,
when he suddenly felt the hand of Athos contract in his, and
looking at the guardsman, he saw that he was going to faint. At
the same moment Athos, who had summoned all his energies to
struggle against the sufferings he endured, was overcome by the
torture of his wound, and fell senseless to the ground.

"'A surgeon!' cried Monsieur de Treville. 'My surgeon--the
King's--the best! A surgeon! or, _sangdieu!_ my brave Athos will
die!'"

The swoon of Athos had merely been occasioned by loss of blood. The surgeon declares there is no danger, and D'Artagnan, who has stood his ground with true Gascon tenacity, at length obtains an audience. The loss of his letter of recommendation now proves a great disadvantage to him. In those days of court intrigue and espionage, men were naturally suspicious of each other, and the mingled _naïveté_ and shrewdness of the young Béarnais, are causes for Monsieur de Treville at first suspecting him of being a spy of the Cardinal's. His suspicions, however, are wearing off, and he is disposed to be useful to D'Artagnan, although he cannot admit him into the mousquetaires--a noviciate of two years in some other regiment being the indispensable condition of admission into that favoured corps--when D'Artagnan, happening to look out of the window, starts, reddens with anger, and rushes to the door. He has recognised, in a passer-by, the person who had stolen his letter; and leaves Monsieur de Treville in doubt whether he has to do with a madman or with an emissary of the Cardinal's, who, fearing himself suspected, takes this pretext for effecting a retreat.

In his hurry to leave the hotel and pursue his robber, D'Artagnan gets into all sorts of scrapes. On the landing-place he runs against Athos, who is returning home after having his wound dressed. Some hasty words pass, a challenge is the result, and rendezvous is taken for noon in a field near the Carmelite convent, then a favourite duelling ground. In the gateway of the courtyard, Porthos is talking with one of his comrades, and D'Artagnan, in trying to pass between them, gets entangled in the velvet cloak of the former, and discovers, what the guardsman had been most anxious to conceal, that the front only of his embroidered shoulder-belt was gold, and the back mere leather. Porthos, not having sufficient pistoles to purchase a whole belt, had gratified his vanity with half a one, and wore his cloak to conceal the deficiency. The young Gascon finds himself with a second duel on his hands, and sets himself down as a dead man. Meantime his robber has disappeared, and as D'Artagnan is proceeding in the direction of his lodging, he encounters Aramis, standing in the middle of the street with some other gentlemen. Furious with himself for the follies he has been committing, D'Artagnan has made a resolution to be all things to all men, at least for the hour or two that he still has to live; and observing that Aramis has dropped a handkerchief, and placed his foot upon it, he hastens to drag it from under his boot, and present it to him with a most gracious bow and smile. A coronet and cipher on the embroidered cambric attract notice, and draw down a shower of raillery upon the head of the mousquetaire, who, in order to shield the honour of a lady, is compelled to deny that the handkerchief is his. His companions walk away, and Aramis reproaches D'Artagnan with his officiousness. The Gascon blood gets up, good resolutions are forgotten, and a third rendezvous is the result.

M. Dumas is never more at home than in the description of duels. Himself an excellent swordsman, he luxuriates and excels in the description of points and parries, cartes and tierces, and of the vigorous estocades which his heroes administer to each other. One of the good chapters of the book--and there are many such--is the one in which D'Artagnan encounters the three redoubtable champions whom he has so heedlessly provoked. We will endeavour, by abridgement, to lay it before our readers.

"D'Artagnan knew nobody at Paris, and betook himself, therefore,
to his first rendezvous without seconds, intending to content
himself with those whom his adversary should bring. Moreover, his
firm intention was to make all reasonable apologies to Athos,
fearing that there would result from this duel the usual
consequence of an encounter between a young and vigorous man and
a wounded and feeble one--if the former is conquered, his
antagonist's triumph is doubled; and if he conquers, he is
accused of taking an advantage, or of being brave at small risk.
Besides this, either we have been unsuccessful in the exposition
of our young adventurer's character, or the reader will have
already perceived that D'Artagnan was no ordinary man. Thus,
although he repeated to himself that his death was inevitable, he
by no means made up his mind to fall an easy sacrifice, as one
less cool and courageous than himself might perhaps have done. He
reflected on the different characters of the three men with whom
he had to fight, and began to think that his case was not so
desperate as it might have been. He hoped, by the candid and
loyal apology which he intended to offer, to make himself a
friend of Athos, whose austere mien and noble air pleased him
greatly. He flattered himself that he should be able to
intimidate Porthos by the affair of the shoulder-belt, which he
could, if not killed upon the spot, relate to every body, and
which would cover the giant with ridicule. Finally, he did not
feel much afraid of Aramis, and he resolved, if he lived long
enough, either to kill him, or at least to administer to him a
wound in the face, that would considerably impair the beauty of
which he was evidently so proud.

"When D'Artagnan arrived in sight of the waste land adjoining the
convent of barefooted Carmelites, noon was striking, and Athos
was already on the ground. The guardsman, who still suffered
cruelly from his wound, was seated on a post, and awaiting his
adversary with the calm countenance and dignified air that never
abandoned him. Upon D'Artagnan's appearance, he rose courteously,
and advanced a few steps to meet him. Our Gascon, on his side,
made his approach hat in hand, the plume trailing on the earth.

"'Sir,' said Athos, 'I have given notice to two gentlemen to act
as my seconds, but they are not come. I am surprised at it, for
they are usually punctual.'

"'For my part, sir,' returned D'Artagnan, 'I have no seconds. I
arrived in Paris yesterday, and know no one but Monsieur de
Treville, to whom I was recommended by my father, who has the
honour to be a friend of his.'

"Athos glanced at the beardless chin and youthful mien of his
adversary, and seemed to reflect for a moment.

"'_Ah ça_!' said he at last, speaking half to himself and half to
D'Artagnan; '_ah ça_! but if I kill you, it will be something
very like child-murder.'

"'Not exactly, sir,' replied D'Artagnan, with a bow that was not
without its dignity; 'not exactly, sir, since you do me the
honour to meet me with a wound by which you must be greatly
inconvenienced.'

"Inconvenienced certainly, and you hurt me terribly, I must
acknowledge, when you ran against me just now; but I will use my
left hand, according to my custom in such circumstances. Do not
suppose on that account that I am sparing you; I fight decently
with both hands, and a left-handed swordsman is an awkward
antagonist when one is not prepared for him. I am sorry I did not
tell you of it sooner, that you might have got your hand in
accordingly.'

"'Truly, sir,' said D'Artagnan, with another bow, 'I know not how
to express my gratitude for such courtesy.'

"'You are too obliging to say so,' returned Athos, with his
princely air; 'let us talk of something else, if not disagreeable
to you. Ah, _sangbleu_! you hurt me terribly! My shoulder burns.'

"'If you would permit me,' said D'Artagnan, timidly.

"'What then, sir?'

"'I have a balm that is wonderfully efficacious in the cure of
wounds. I hold the recipe from my mother, and have myself
experienced its good effects.'

"'Well?'

"'Well, I am sure that in less than three days it would heal your
wound; and at the end of that time, sir, it would still be a
great honour for me to meet you.'

"D'Artagnan said these words with a simplicity that did credit to
his natural courtesy of feeling, at the same time that it could
not give rise to the slightest doubt of his courage.

"'_Pardieu_, sir!' said Athos, 'your proposition pleases me, not
that I can accept it, but because it is that of a chivalrous
gentleman. It is thus that spoke and acted those heroes of
Charlemagne's days, on whom every cavalier should strive to model
himself. Unfortunately we do not live in the times of the great
emperor, but in those of Cardinal Richelieu; and however well we
might keep our secret, it would be known before three days had
elapsed that we intended to fight, and our duel would be
prevented. _Ah ça_! where can those idlers be?'

"'If you are in haste, sir,' resumed D'Artagnan with the same
simplicity with which he had a moment before proposed to put off
the duel for three days--'if you are pressed for time, and that
it pleases you to finish with me at once, let me beg of you to do
so.'

"'Another proposal that I like,' said Athos with an approving nod
of the head; 'it is that of a man lacking neither wit nor valour.
Sir, I like men of your stamp; and I see that if we do not kill
one another, I shall hereafter have much pleasure in your
society. But let us wait for these gentlemen, I beg of you. I
have plenty of time, and it will be more according to rule. Ha!
here comes one of them.'

"At that moment the gigantic form of Porthos appeared at the
extremity of the Rue Vaugirard.

"'What!' cried D'Artagnan, 'Monsieur Porthos is one of your
seconds?'

"'Yes; is it disagreeable to you?'

"'By no means.'

"'And here is the other.'

"D'Artagnan turned his head and recognised Aramis.

"'What!' he exclaimed in still greater astonishment, 'Monsieur
Aramis is the other?'

"'Certainly; do you not know that we are never seen asunder, and
are known in court, camp, and city, as Athos, Porthos, and
Aramis, or the three inseparables? But you are just arrived from
Gascony, which accounts for your being unacquainted with these
circumstances.'

"Meanwhile Porthos, who had abandoned his cloak and changed his
shoulder-belt, approached, nodded to Athos, but on beholding
D'Artagnan, remained struck with astonishment.

"'This is the gentleman I am to fight with,' said Athos
indicating D'Artagnan with his hand, at the same time bowing to
him.

"'It is with him that I am to fight,' said Porthos.

"'Not till one o'clock,' said D'Artagnan.

"'And I also,' said Aramis, who just then came up.

"'Our appointment was for two o'clock,' said D'Artagnan with
perfect composure.

"'What are you going to fight about, Athos?' asked Aramis.

"'Faith, I can hardly tell you. He hurt my shoulder. And you,
Porthos?'

"'I fight because I am so minded,' replied Porthos colouring.

"Athos, whom nothing escaped, saw a slight smile curling
D'Artagnan's lip.

"'We had a dispute about dress,' said the young Gascon.

"'And you, Aramis?' asked Athos.

"'A theological difference,' replied Aramis, making a sign to
D'Artagnan that he wished the cause of their duel to remain a
secret.

"'Indeed!' said Athos looking at D'Artagnan.

"'Yes, a point of St Augustin on which we are not agreed,' said
the latter.

"'Decidedly he is a man of wit and sense,' muttered Athos to
himself.

"'And now that you are all assembled, gentlemen,' said
D'Artagnan, 'allow me to apologise to you.'

"At the word apologise, a cloud passed across the features of
Athos, Porthos smiled contemptuously, Aramis made a negative
sign.

"'You do not understand me, gentlemen,' said D'Artagnan raising
his head proudly. 'I only apologise in case I should not be able
to pay my debt to all of you; for Monsieur Athos has the right to
kill me the first, which greatly diminishes the value of my debt
to you, Monsieur Porthos, and renders that to Monsieur Aramis
nearly worthless. And now, gentlemen, I say again, accept my
apologies, but on that account only--and to work!'

"And so saying, he drew his sword with the most fearless and
gallant mien possible to be seen. His blood was up, and at that
moment he would have fought not only Athos, Porthos, and Aramis,
but the whole regiment of mousquetaires.

"'When you please, sir,' said Athos, putting himself on guard.

"'I was waiting your orders,' returned D'Artagnan.

"But the two rapiers had scarcely clashed together, when five of
the Cardinal's guards, commanded by Monsieur de Jussac, appeared
from behind a corner of the convent.

"'The Cardinal's guards!' exclaimed Porthos and Aramis. 'Sheath
your swords, gentlemen!'

"But it was too late. The combatants had been seen in an attitude
that left no doubt as to their pugnacious intentions.

"'Hola!' cried Jussac advancing towards them, followed by his
men. 'Hola, mousquetaires! fighting here? And the edicts. We have
forgotten them, eh?'

"'Your generosity is really remarkable, gentlemen of the
guards,' said Athos bitterly, for Jussac had been one of the
aggressors in the recent affray. 'I promise you that if we saw
you fighting we would not interrupt you. Leave us alone, then,
and you will have your amusement for nothing.'

"'Gentlemen,' said Jussac, 'I am grieved to tell you that the
thing is impossible. Duty before every thing. Be pleased to
sheath your swords, and follow us.'

"'Sir,' replied Aramis, parodying Jussac's manner, 'we should
have the greatest pleasure in accepting your polite invitation,
if it depended upon us so to do, but unfortunately the thing is
impossible; Monsieur de Treville has forbidden it. Move on,
therefore; it is the best thing you can do.'

"This bantering exasperated Jussac. 'We will charge you,' said
he, 'if you disobey.'

"'They are five,' said Athos in a low voice, 'and we are but
three; we shall be beaten again, and we must die here; for I
swear not to reappear before the captain if conquered.'

"Athos, Porthos, and Aramis drew closer to each other. Jussac was
arranging his men in line. This single moment of delay was
sufficient for D'Artagnan to make up his mind; it was one of
those moments that decide a man's whole life. The choice was to
be made between King and Cardinal, and, once made, it must be
persevered in. If he fought, he disobeyed the law, risked his
head, and made an enemy of a minister more powerful than the king
himself. All these considerations passed like lightning through
the mind of the young Gascon; but, be it said to his honour, he
did not hesitate an instant. Turning towards Athos and his
friends.

"'Gentlemen,' said he, 'allow me to amend the words last spoken.
You said you were only three, but to my thinking we are four.'

"'But you are not one of us,' said Porthos.

"'True,' replied D'Artagnan, 'I have not the coat; but I have the
spirit. In my heart I am a mousquetaire--I feel it, and that
leads me on.'

"'You may retire, young man,' cried Jussac, who doubtless guessed
D'Artagnan's intentions by his gestures and the expression of his
face. 'You may retire, we permit it. Be-gone, then, and quickly.'

"D'Artagnan did not stir.

"'Decidedly you are a fine fellow,' said Athos, pressing the
young man's hand.

"But the three mousquetaires thought of D'Artagnan's youth, and
distrusted his inexperience.

"'We should only be three, of whom one wounded, and a child,'
said Athos; 'but they will say all the same, that there were four
of us.'

"'Gentlemen,' said D'Artagnan, 'only try me, and I swear by my
honour that if we are conquered I will not leave the ground
alive.'

"'What is your name, my brave fellow?' said Athos.

"'D'Artagnan, sir.'

"'Well, then, Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan, forwards!'
cried Athos.

"'What do you decide to do?' cried Jussac.

"'We are going to have the honour of charging you,' said Aramis,
raising his hat with one hand and drawing his sword with the
other.

"And the nine combatants precipitated themselves on each other
with a fury that did not exclude a certain degree of method.
Athos took one Cahusac, a favourite of the Cardinal's; Porthos
had Bicarat; and Aramis found himself opposed to two adversaries.
As to D'Artagnan, he encountered Jussac himself.

"The heart of the young Gascon beat high, not with fear, there
was no shadow of it, but with emulation; he fought like an
enraged tiger, turning about his enemy, changing each moment his
ground and his guard. Jussac was one of the good blades of the
day, and had had much practice; but he had, nevertheless, all the
difficulty in the world to defend himself against a supple and
active antagonist, who was constantly deviating from the received
rules of fencing, attacking him on all sides at once, and
parrying, at the same time, like a man who had the greatest
regard for his epidermis. At last Jussac lost patience. Furious
at being thus kept at bay by one whom he looked upon as a child,
his _sang-froid_ abandoned him, and he began to commit blunders.
D'Artagnan, who, although lacking practice, was perfect in
theory, redoubled his agility. Jussac, with the design of
finishing him at once, delivered a terrible thrust, which
D'Artagnan parried adroitly, and, before his opponent could raise
himself, he glided like a serpent under his guard, and passed his
sword through his body. Jussac fell heavily to the earth.

"D'Artagnan now cast an uneasy and rapid glance over the field of
battle. Aramis had already killed one of his adversaries. The
other gave him plenty to do, but Aramis was able to take care of
himself. Bicarat and Porthos were wounded; Porthos in the arm,
and Bicarat in the thigh. But neither wound was serious, and the
sight of their blood made them fight all the better. There was no
need to interfere there. Athos, wounded again by Cahusac, was
growing each moment paler, but he did not give way an inch. He
had changed his sword to his left hand. D'Artagnan caught his eye
as he was looking to see who most required his aid. The look of
the wounded mousquetaire was most eloquent; he would have died
sooner than call for assistance, but his glance said how much he
stood in need of it. With a single bound, D'Artagnan was upon
Cahusac's flank.

"'Have a care, sir guardsman,' cried he, 'or I slay you on the
spot.'

"Cahusac turned to face his new opponent. It was high time, for
Athos, who had only been sustained by his extreme courage, sank
upon one knee.

"'_Sangdieu!_' cried he to D'Artagnan, 'do not kill him, young
man, I beg of you; I have an old quarrel to terminate with him
when my wound is healed. Disarm him only--So--Well done!'

"This last exclamation was caused by Cahusac's sword, which flew
from his hand to a distance of twenty paces. D'Artagnan and
Cahusac rushed to pick it up, but D'Artagnan reached it first,
and put his foot upon it. Cahusac ran to the guardsman whom
Aramis had killed, took his rapier, and was returning to
D'Artagnan; but on his road he met Athos, who had taken breath
during the moment's respite which the latter had procured him,
and now recommenced the fight, fearing that the Gascon would kill
his enemy. D'Artagnan saw that he should disoblige him by again
interfering. A few seconds later, Cahusac fell with a wound
through the throat. At the same moment Aramis placed his sword's
point on the breast of his prostrate adversary, and forced him to
sue for mercy.

"Porthos and Bicarat alone remained. Porthos, while fighting,
indulged in all sorts of fanfarronades, asking Bicarat what time
of day it was, and complimenting him on the company which his
brother had just attained in the regiment of Navarre. In spite of
his jests, however, he did not gain ground. Bicarat was a
stubborn and skilful opponent. It was time to bring matters to a
conclusion before some patrol should arrive, and take both
royalists and cardinalists into custody. Athos, Aramis, and
D'Artagnan, surrounded Bicarat, and summoned him to surrender.
Although alone against four, and with a wound through the thigh,
he would not give in, though Jussac, who had raised himself on
his elbow, called out to him to yield. Bicarat was a Gascon, like
D'Artagnan; he only laughed, and pretended not to hear, at the
same time pointing to the ground at his feet. 'Here will die
Bicarat,' said he, 'the last of those who are with him.'

"'But they are four against you,' cried Jussac; 'I order you to
desist.'

"'Ah, if you order me, it is another affair!' said Bicarat; 'you
are my superior, and I must obey.'

"And giving a spring backwards, he broke his sword across his
knee, in order not to yield it up, threw the pieces over the
convent wall, and, crossing his arms, whistled a Cardinalist air.

"Courage is always respected even in an enemy. The mousquetaires
saluted Bicarat with their swords, and returned them to their
scabbards. D'Artagnan did the same, and, assisted by Bicarat, he
carried under the convent porch Jussac, Cahusac, and that one of
Aramis's adversaries who was only wounded. The other, as already
observed, was dead. They then rang the bell, and left the ground;
the mousquetaires and D'Artagnan, intoxicated with joy, carrying
away four swords out of five, and taking the direction of
Monsieur de Treville's hotel. Every mousquetaire whom they met,
and informed of what had happened, turned back and accompanied
them; so that at last their march was like a triumphal
procession. D'Artagnan was beside himself with delight; he walked
between Athos and Porthos, holding an arm of each.

"'If I am not yet a mousquetaire,' said he to his new friends, as
they crossed the threshold of the Hotel Treville, 'I may at least
say that I am received apprentice.'"

The result of this affair is to procure D'Artagnan the favour of Monsieur de Treville and the King--the latter of whom dislikes the Cardinal in secret nearly as much as he fears him. The young Gascon has an audience of Louis the Just, who recruits his finances by the present of a handful of pistoles; and a few days later he is appointed to a cadetship in the company of guards of the Chevalier des Essarts, a brother-in-law of Treville. According to the singular ideas of those days, there was nothing degrading to a gentleman in receiving money from the king's hand. D'Artagnan, therefore, pockets the pistoles with many thanks, and takes an early opportunity of dividing them with his friends with the mythological names, Messieurs Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, who, according to the custom of mousquetaires, have more gold upon their coats than in their purses. The courage and good qualities of the Gascon have won the hearts of the three guardsmen, and he is admitted to make a fourth in their brotherhood, of which the motto is, "_Un pour tous, et tous pour un_." All is in common amongst them--pleasures, perils, pistoles.

The characters of the three mousquetaires are well sketched and sustained, and illustrate admirably the vices, virtues, and propensities of their time and station. Aramis, who was originally intended for the church, has relinquished the black coat of an abbé in order to fight a nobleman who had insulted him. He still, however, persists in considering himself as a guardsman only _pro tempore_; and whenever fortune or his mistress frowns upon him, he declares his intention of abandoning his sinful mode of life, and throwing himself into the arms of mother church. Vanity is the failing of Porthos, who shines more by his imposing appearance, brilliant attire, and bull-dog courage, than by any qualities of the head. To Athos, who is the most interesting of the three, a certain mystery is attached, which, however, is seen through early in the book. He is a man of high birth, princely manners, and chivalrous feeling, but whose stormy life has cast a strong tinge of melancholy over his character, and who now finds his sole consolation in the wine-cup. It must not be therefore supposed that Athos is a sot, a wallower in wine, or a haunter of tavern orgies. He drinks, it is true, enough to prostrate any three ordinary men; but he takes his liquor, as he does every thing else, so much like a gentleman, and, moreover, there is so much self-devotion and generosity in his character, such dignity of manner and rectitude of feeling--his temper so even and kindly--his courage so heroic--that he is unquestionably the most amiable and interesting of the _dramatis personæ_, preferable to D'Artagnan, to whom premature worldly wisdom gives a hardness bordering upon egotism. While Aramis is sighing sonnets to his mistress, and Porthos parading on the crown of the causeway in all the glory of gold lace and embroidery, Athos sits tranquilly at home, and says, like Gregory in the Deserter--

"J'aime mieux boire."

His real name--for Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are merely assumed ones--is known only to the King and to Monsieur de Treville.

It would be difficult within the limits of this paper to give an idea of the entire plot of the _Three Mousquetaires_, which is, in fact, less a tale with a regular intrigue and _dénouement_, than a narrative of adventures and incidents, extending over a period of nearly three years. D'Artagnan, whose enterprising character and Gascon acuteness qualify him admirably to take a part in the court intrigues of the time, soon finds himself almost at open war with the Cardinal, and engaged in serving the interests of Louis the Thirteenth's unhappy queen, Anne of Austria, who, by rejecting the suit of the scarlet duke--as the mousquetaires irreverently style the Cardinal Duke of Richelieu--has drawn upon herself the deadly hatred of that omnipotent personage. The Duke of Buckingham, who is madly in love with the queen, visits Paris in disguise, and obtains an interview with her. At parting, he implores her to give him some trifle, which he may preserve as a _souvenir_ of their attachment; and Anne of Austria gives him the first thing that comes to hand, which happens to be a jewel-case, containing twelve diamond clasps or _ferrets_ that she has lately received from the King. The Cardinal, omnipresent by his spies, learns this; manages adroitly to rouse the king's jealousy; and prevails on him to give a ball, at which the queen is desired to appear, wearing the ferrets in question. Anne of Austria is in despair. To obtain the restitution of the jewels within the eight days that have to elapse before the one fixed for the ball, appears impossible. Buckingham is in England; if she writes, her letter will be intercepted by the Cardinal; if she sends, her messenger will be stopped. Nothing could at that time be done in France without coming to the knowledge of Richelieu. In her extremity she is induced to confide in one of her attendants, with whom D'Artagnan is in love; and a few hours later, the intrepid Gascon and his three inseparable friends set out for England, provided with a leave of absence from Monsieur de Treville, and attended by their four lackeys. D'Artagnan alone knows the object of their journey; but the others, confiding implicitly in his judgment, and bound, moreover, by the rules of their association, ask no questions, and willingly brave the dangers that the Cardinal strews in their path. It is agreed that, in case of rencontres by the way, the dead or wounded are to be left to their fate, and the others are to push on without an instant's delay. Should D'Artagnan fall, the survivors are to take from his pocket the queen's letter to Buckingham, and continue their route.

The adventurers are not allowed to proceed far without molestation. They stop to breakfast, and a stranger picks a quarrel with Porthos, who stays behind to fight him, and does not rejoin them. Near Beauvais they receive a volley from some pretended labourers; D'Artagnan's hat is knocked off by a ball; a lackey is left in the road, and Aramis is badly wounded, and obliged to remain at the next town. D'Artagnan, Athos, and their two attendants, reach Amiens at midnight, and stop to sleep at the sign of the Golden Lily. Here various suspicious incidents occur, and in the morning their horses are found to be dead-lame, and unable to proceed. One that might still have gone on has been bled by mistake.

"All these accidents succeeding each other began to alarm our
travellers; they might be the result of chance, but they were
more probably that of an organized plot. Athos and D'Artagnan
left their room, while Planchet (D'Artagnan's groom) went to
enquire whether there were any horses to be bought in the
neighbourhood. At the door were standing two vigorous animals,
saddled and bridled, and which would have suited the guardsmen
well. Planchet asked to whom they belonged, and was told that
their masters had passed the night at the inn, and were then
paying their score previous to departure. Athos went to do the
same, while D'Artagnan and Planchet remained at the street door.

"The host was in a small back room, which Athos was requested to
enter. He did so without suspicion, and took out some pistoles to
pay. The innkeeper, who was seated at a desk, of which one of the
drawers was half-open, took the money, turned it about, and
examined it on all sides, and suddenly exclaiming that it was
false, declared that he would have Athos and his companion
arrested as coiners.

"'Scoundrel!' cried Athos, advancing towards him; 'I will cut
your ears off for your insolence.'

"But the man stooped down, took a brace of pistols out of the
open drawer, and pointing them at Athos, called loudly for help.
On the instant four armed men entered by a side-door, and
attacked Athos.

"'I am taken!' cried the mousquetaire, with all the power of his
lungs. 'To horse, D'Artagnan! Spur! spur!'

"And he fired both his pistols. D'Artagnan and Planchet untied
the two horses that were waiting at the door, sprang upon their
backs, and set off full gallop.

"By dint of spurring and precaution, D'Artagnan and his follower
reach Calais without further accident; the horse of the former
falling dead within a hundred yards of the town. They hasten to
the port, and find themselves close to a gentleman and his
servant, dusty and travel-stained, who are enquiring for a vessel
to take them to England. The master of a sloop that is ready to
sail informs them, that an order had arrived that very morning to
prevent any ship from leaving the harbour without an express
permission from the Cardinal.

"'I have that permission,' said the gentleman, taking a paper
from his pocket.

"'Very good!' said the sailor. 'Get it countersigned by the
governor of the port, and give me the preference.'

"'Where shall I find the governor?'

"'At his country-house, a quarter of a league from the town. You
see it yonder. A slated roof at the foot of a little hill.'"

The gentleman and his attendant take the direction of the governor's house. D'Artagnan follows them; picks a quarrel with the stranger, who is a certain Count de Wardes, an adherent of the Cardinal's, wounds him desperately, himself receiving a scratch, takes the pass, gets it countersigned, and proceeds to England. The Duke of Buckingham is hunting at Windsor with the king; but the indefatigable Gascon follows him thither, and delivers his letter. The duke hurries with him to London to give him the ferrets; but, to his unspeakable consternation, finds that two out of the twelve are missing. They had been cut from his dress by an emissary of the Cardinal's at a ball at Windsor Castle, at which he had worn the queen's present. The ferrets are of immense value, and difficult workmanship. Buckingham sends for his jeweller, who demands eight days and three thousand pistoles to replace the missing ornaments. The duke locks him up in a room, with his tools and a workman, and allows him six thousand pistoles, and thirty-six hours to complete then. The ferrets are ready within the prescribed period. Furnished with a password from the duke, who has trusty agents in France, D'Artagnan reaches Paris by a different road and without impediment, arriving in time to save the queen, who appears at the ball with her twelve ferrets, to the vast discomfiture of the Cardinal. Meanwhile D'Artagnan's mistress had been spirited away by Richelieu, and the young Gascon is in despair. He confides his misfortunes to Monsieur de Treville, who promises to do what he can to find the lady, and advises D'Artagnan to leave Paris till the Cardinal's wrath is a little blown over. D'Artagnan takes his advice; bethinks him of the three mousquetaires, and sets out to look for them. He finds Porthos and Aramis where he left them, nearly recovered from their wounds; and proceeding to Amiens, enters the hotel of the Golden Lily, and confronts the host--his whip in his right hand, his left on his sword-hilt, and evidently meaning mischief.

The innkeeper, however, turns out to be more an object of pity than blame. Previously to the arrival of D'Artagnan and Athos on their way to England, he had received information from the authorities, that a party of coiners, disguised as guardsmen, would arrive at his inn, and that he was to take measures to arrest them. The six men who brought him these orders disguised themselves as servants and stable-boys, and remained to assist in the capture. In the skirmish, Athos shot two of them, wounded a third, cut the host across the face with the flat of his sword, and retreated fighting to the cellar stairs. Entering the cellar, he pulled the door to and barricaded it. His assailants left the house, carrying off their killed and wounded; and when the innkeeper, recovering a little from his alarm, went to inform the governor of what had occurred, the latter declared himself totally ignorant of the whole business, denied that he had given orders to arrest any coiners, and threatened to hang the unlucky host if he mixed up his name in the affair.

"'But, Athos!' cried D'Artagnan, losing all patience at the
innkeeper's prolixity,--'Athos, what is become of him?'

"'I was eager to repair my wrongs towards the gentleman,' replied
the innkeeper, 'and hurried to the cellar to set him at liberty.
But on my declaring what I came for, he swore it was only a snare
laid for him, and insisted upon making his conditions before he
came out. I told him very humbly--for I was aware of the scrape
into which I had got myself by my violence towards one of the
King's mousquetaires--that I was ready to submit to them.'

"'In the first place,' said he, 'I must have my servant delivered
to me, fully armed.'

"His order was obeyed, and Monsieur Grimaud was taken down to the
cellar, wounded as he was. His master received him, barricaded
the door again, and bid us go to the devil.

"'But where is he?' cried D'Artagnan. 'Where is Athos?'

"'In the cellar, sir.'

"'Scoundrel! you have kept him all this time in the cellar?'

"'Good heavens, sir! _I_ keep him in the cellar! You do not know
what he is doing there, or you would not suppose it. If you can
prevail upon him to come out, I shall be grateful to you to the
last day of my life; I will adore you as my guardian angel.'

"'I shall find him there, then?'

"'Certainly you will, sir--he won't come out. Every day we are
obliged to hand him down bread at the end of a hay-fork, and meat
too, when he asks for it. But, alas! it is not of bread and meat
that he makes the largest consumption. I tried once to enter the
cellar with two of my servants, and he put himself in a most
terrible passion. I heard him and his lackey cocking their
pistols and carbine; and when we asked what their intentions
were, your friend said that they had forty shots to fire, and
that they would fire every one before allowing us to enter the
cellar. I then went to complain to the governor, and he told me
that I had only got what I deserved, and that it would teach me
to maltreat honourable gentlemen who used my house.'

"'So that, since that time....' said D'Artagnan, who could not
help laughing at the pitiable countenance of the host.

"'Since that time, sir,' continued the latter, 'we lead the most
wretched life imaginable; for you must know that all our
provisions are in the cellar, our wine in bottle and our wine in
cask, beer, oil, and spices, hams and sausages; and as we cannot
get at them, we are unable to give food or drink to the
travellers who alight here, and our inn is losing all its custom.
If your friend stops one week longer in my cellar, I am a ruined
man.'

"'And quite right that you should be, scoundrel! It was easy to
see by our appearance, that we were men of quality and not
coiners.'

"'Yes, sir, you are right,' replied poor Boniface. 'But only
listen to him, he is getting into a passion.'

"'Doubtless somebody has disturbed him,' said D'Artagnan.

"'We are obliged to disturb him,' cried the host; 'two English
gentlemen have just arrived. The English, as you know, love good
wine, and these have asked for the best. My wife is gone to beg
Monsieur Athos to let her in, and he has no doubt refused as
usual. Holy Virgin! What a racket he is making.'

"D'Artagnan rose from his seat, and followed by the host and by
Planchet with his cocked carbine, took the direction of the
cellar, whence a tremendous noise was proceeding. The Englishmen
were exasperated; they had just come off a long journey, and were
dying of hunger and thirst.

"'It is perfect tyranny,' cried they in very good French, 'that
this madman will not allow these good people the use of their
wine. But we will break open the door, and if he is too furious,
we will kill him.'

"'Not so fast, gentlemen,' said D'Artagnan, drawing his pistols
from his belt. 'You will kill nobody, if you please.'

"'Let them come,' said Athos, in his usual calm voice, from the
other side of the door, 'let them come in, and we shall see.'

"Brave as they appeared to be, the two Englishmen hesitated and
looked at one another. One might almost have supposed that the
cellar was garrisoned by one of those hungry ogres of the fairy
tale, whose cavern no one could enter with impunity. There was a
moment's silence; but the Englishmen were ashamed to retreat, and
one of them, descending the five or six steps leading to the
cellar, gave the door a kick that made it rattle on its hinges.

"'Planchet,' said D'Artagnan, cocking his pistols, 'you take the
one at the bottom of the stairs; I will take the other. Since you
are for a fight, gentlemen, you shall have a bellyfull.'

"'Is that D'Artagnan's voice?' cried Athos.

"'It is,' replied the Gascon.

"'Very good,' said Athos, 'we will work them a little, these
door-breakers.'

"'A moment's patience, Athos,' said D'Artagnan. 'Gentlemen,' he
continued, turning to the Englishmen, 'you are between two fires.
My servant and myself have three shots to fire, you will receive
as many from the cellar, besides which we have got our swords,
with the use of which, I can assure you, my friend and myself are
tolerably well acquainted. Allow me to arrange matters. I give
you my word that you shall have some wine just now.'

"'If there is any left,' growled Athos in a tone of raillery.

"'What does he mean--if there is any left?' cried the host, who
felt a cold perspiration break out all over him.

"'Nonsense, there will be some left,' replied D'Artagnan; 'two
men cannot have drunk the whole cellar out.'

"The Englishmen sheathed their swords, and D'Artagnan related to
them the history of the imprisonment of Athos, upon hearing which
they greatly blamed the innkeeper.

"'Now, gentlemen,' said D'Artagnan, 'if you will be pleased to
return to your apartment, in ten minutes you shall have what you
require.'

"The Englishmen bowed and retired.

"'I am alone, my dear Athos,' said D'Artagnan.--'Open the door.'

"There was a great noise of fagots and beams falling down; the
besieged was demolishing his counter-scarps and bastions. The
next moment the door opened, and the pale face of the
mousquetaire appeared. D'Artagnan sprang forward and embraced
him, but when he tried to lead him out of the cellar, he
perceived that Athos staggered.

"'You are wounded?' cried he.

"'I! not the least,' was the reply. 'I am dead drunk, that is
all, and never did any man better deserve to be so. Fore God!
mine host, I have drunk for my share, at least one hundred and
fifty bottles.'

"'Heaven have mercy on me!' cried the host. 'If the servant has
drunk half as much as the master, I am a ruined man.'

"'Grimaud knows his place too well to drink the same wine as his
master; he has drunk from the cask. By-the-by, I think he must
have forgotten to put in the spigot--I hear a running.'

"D'Artagnan burst into a fit of laughter. The innkeeper was in a
high fever. Just then Grimaud showed himself behind his master,
his carbine on his shoulder, and his head shaking like that of
the drunken satyr in some of Rubens' pictures. His clothes were
smeared with an unctuous liquid, which the host immediately
recognized as his best olive oil.

"D'Artagnan and Athos now crossed the common room, and installed
themselves in the best apartment of the hotel; while the
innkeeper and his wife lighted lamps, and rushed into the cellar,
where a frightful spectacle awaited them. In rear of the
fortifications, in which Athos had made a breach for his exit,
and which were composed of fagots, planks, and empty casks,
arranged according to all the rules of strategy, were numerous
pools of oil and wine, in which the bones of the hams that had
been eaten were lying. In one corner was a pile of broken
bottles, and in another a huge cask of wine was just yielding up
the last drops of its blood. Out of fifty large sausages that had
been suspended to the beams of the roof, ten only were remaining.
The image of devastation and death, as the ancient poet said,
reigned there as upon a field of battle."

With characteristic generosity and _insouciance_, Athos forgives the host, and compensates him for the damage done to his property. The two guardsmen then sit down to drink, and D'Artagnan tells his friend of the misfortune he has had in the loss of his mistress.

"'Your misfortune makes me laugh,' said Athos, shrugging his
shoulders. 'I wonder what you would say to a love story that I
could tell you.'

"'Something that happened to yourself?'

"'Or to one of my friends; no matter.'

"'Tell it me.'

"'I would rather drink.'

"'You can do both.'

"'True,' said Athos, filling his glass; 'the two things go well
together.'

"The mousquetaire paused, and seemed to be collecting his
thoughts; and as he did so, D'Artagnan observed that he grew each
moment paler. He had reached that stage of intoxication at which
ordinary drinkers fall under the table and sleep. Athos, however,
did not do that; he dreamed aloud without sleeping. There was
something frightful in this somnambulism of drunkenness.