LITMIR.BIZ

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your tongue, Porthos,” said Athos; “you are insupportable.”

      “‘—will you enter this carriage, and that without offering the least resistance, without making the least noise?’”

      “He took you for Buckingham!” cried d’Artagnan.

      “I believe so,” replied Aramis.

      “But the lady?” asked Porthos.

      “He took her for the queen!” said d’Artagnan.

      “Just so,” replied Aramis.

      “The Gascon is the devil!” cried Athos; “nothing escapes him.”

      “The fact is,” said Porthos, “Aramis is of the same height, and something of the shape of the duke; but it nevertheless appears to me that the dress of a Musketeer—”

      “I wore an enormous cloak,” said Aramis.

      “In the month of July? The devil!” said Porthos. “Is the doctor afraid that you may be recognized?”

      “I can comprehend that the spy may have been deceived by the person; but the face—”

      “I had a large hat,” said Aramis.

      “Oh, good lord,” cried Porthos, “what precautions for the study of theology!”

      “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, “do not let us lose our time in jesting. Let us separate, and let us seek the mercer’s wife—that is the key of the intrigue.”

      “A woman of such inferior condition! Can you believe so?” said Porthos, protruding his lips with contempt.

      “She is goddaughter to Laporte, the confidential valet of the queen. Have I not told you so, gentlemen? Besides, it has perhaps been her Majesty’s calculation to seek on this occasion for support so lowly. High heads expose themselves from afar, and the cardinal is longsighted.”

      “Well,” said Porthos, “in the first place make a bargain with the mercer, and a good bargain.”

      “That’s useless,” said d’Artagnan; “for I believe if he does not pay us, we shall be well enough paid by another party.”

      At this moment a sudden noise of footsteps was heard upon the stairs; the door was thrown violently open, and the unfortunate mercer rushed into the chamber in which the council was held.

      “Save me, gentlemen, for the love of heaven, save me!” cried he. “There are four men come to arrest me. Save me! Save me!”

      Porthos and Aramis arose.

      “A moment,” cried d’Artagnan, making them a sign to replace in the scabbard their half-drawn swords. “It is not courage that is needed; it is prudence.”

      “And yet,” cried Porthos, “we will not leave—”

      “You will leave d’Artagnan to act as he thinks proper,” said Athos. “He has, I repeat, the longest head of the four, and for my part I declare that I will obey him. Do as you think best, d’Artagnan.”

      At this moment the four Guards appeared at the door of the antechamber, but seeing four Musketeers standing, and their swords by their sides, they hesitated about going farther.

      “Come in, gentlemen, come in,” called d’Artagnan; “you are here in my apartment, and we are all faithful servants of the king and cardinal.”

      “Then, gentlemen, you will not oppose our executing the orders we have received?” asked one who appeared to be the leader of the party.

      “On the contrary, gentlemen, we would assist you if it were necessary.”

      “What does he say?” grumbled Porthos.

      “You are a simpleton,” said Athos. “Silence!”

      “But you promised me—” whispered the poor mercer.

      “We can only save you by being free ourselves,” replied d’Artagnan, in a rapid, low tone; “and if we appear inclined to defend you, they will arrest us with you.”

      “It seems, nevertheless—”

      “Come, gentlemen, come!” said d’Artagnan, aloud; “I have no motive for defending Monsieur. I saw him today for the first time, and he can tell you on what occasion; he came to demand the rent of my lodging. Is that not true, Monsieur Bonacieux? Answer!”

      “That is the very truth,” cried the mercer; “but Monsieur does not tell you—”

      “Silence, with respect to me, silence, with respect to my friends; silence about the queen, above all, or you will ruin everybody without saving yourself! Come, come, gentlemen, remove the fellow.” And d’Artagnan pushed the half-stupefied mercer among the Guards, saying to him, “You are a shabby old fellow, my dear. You come to demand money of me—of a Musketeer! To prison with him! Gentlemen, once more, take him to prison, and keep him under key as long as possible; that will give me time to pay him.”

      The officers were full of thanks, and took away their prey. As they were going down d’Artagnan laid his hand on the shoulder of their leader.

      “May I not drink to your health, and you to mine?” said d’Artagnan, filling two glasses with the Beaugency wine which he had obtained from the liberality of M. Bonacieux.

      “That will do me great honor,” said the leader of the posse, “and I accept thankfully.”

      “Then to yours, monsieur—what is your name?”

      “Boisrenard.”

      “Monsieur Boisrenard.”

      “To yours, my gentlemen! What is your name, in your turn, if you please?”

      “d’Artagnan.”

      “To yours, monsieur.”

      “And above all others,” cried d’Artagnan, as if carried away by his enthusiasm, “to that of the king and the cardinal.”

      The leader of the posse would perhaps have doubted the sincerity of d’Artagnan if the wine had been bad; but the wine was good, and he was convinced.

      “What diabolical villainy you have performed here,” said Porthos, when the officer had rejoined his companions and the four friends found themselves alone. “Shame, shame, for four Musketeers to allow an unfortunate fellow who cried for help to be arrested in their midst! And a gentleman to hobnob with a bailiff!”

      “Porthos,” said Aramis, “Athos has already told you that you are a simpleton, and I am quite of his opinion. D’Artagnan, you are a great man; and when you occupy Monsieur de Treville’s place, I will come and ask your influence to secure me an abbey.”

      “Well, I am in a maze,” said Porthos; “do YOU approve of what d’Artagnan has done?”

      “PARBLEU! Indeed I do,” said Athos; “I not only approve of what he has done, but I congratulate him upon it.”

      “And now, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, without stopping to explain his conduct to Porthos, “All for one, one for all—that is our motto, is it not?”

      “And yet—” said Porthos.

      “Hold out your hand and swear!” cried Athos and Aramis at once.

      Overcome by example, grumbling to himself, nevertheless, Porthos stretched out his hand, and the four friends repeated with one voice the formula dictated by d’Artagnan:

      “All for one, one for all.”

      “That’s well! Now let us everyone retire to his own home,” said d’Artagnan, as if he had done nothing but command all his life; “and attention! For from this moment we are at feud with the cardinal.”

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