Reading Help The Three Musketeers Ch.41-67
all I had to say to you." `
` `
` "And I reply to you, sir, that this abuse of power, this exile `
` under a fictitious name, are infamous!" `
` `
` "Would you like better to be hanged in your true name, Milady? `
` You know that the English laws are inexorable on the abuse of `
` marriage. Speak freely. Although my name, or rather that of my `
` brother, would be mixed up with the affair, I will risk the `
` scandal of a public trial to make myself certain of getting rid `
` of you." `
` `
` Milady made no reply, but became as pale as a corpse. `
` `
` "Oh, I see you prefer peregrination. That's well madame; and `
` there is an old proverb that says, 'Traveling trains youth.' My `
` faith! you are not wrong after all, and life is sweet. That's `
` the reason why I take such care you shall not deprive me of mine. `
` There only remains, then, the question of the five shillings to `
` be settled. You think me rather parsimonious, don't you? That's `
` because I don't care to leave you the means of corrupting your `
` jailers. Besides, you will always have your charms left to `
` seduce them with. Employ them, if your check with regard to `
` Felton has not disgusted you with attempts of that kind." `
` `
` "Felton has not told him," said Milady to herself. "Nothing is `
` lost, then." `
` `
` "And now, madame, till I see you again! Tomorrow I will come and `
` announce to you the departure of my messenger." `
` `
` Lord de Winter rose, saluted her ironically, and went out. `
` `
` Milady breathed again. She had still four days before her. Four `
` days would quite suffice to complete the seduction of Felton. `
` `
` A terrible idea, however, rushed into her mind. She thought that `
` Lord de Winter would perhaps send Felton himself to get the order `
` signed by the Duke of Buckingham. In that case Felton would `
` escape her--for in order to secure success, the magic of a `
` continuous seduction was necessary. Nevertheless, as we have `
` said, one circumstance reassured her. Felton had not spoken. `
` `
` As she would not appear to be agitated by the threats of Lord de `
` Winter, she placed herself at the table and ate. `
` `
` Then, as she had done the evening before, she fell on her knees `
` and repeated her prayers aloud. As on the evening before, the `
` soldier stopped his march to listen to her. `
` `
` Soon after she heard lighter steps than those of the sentinel, `
` which came from the end of the corridor and stopped before her `
` door. `
` `
` "It is he," said she. And she began the same religious chant `
` which had so strongly excited Felton the evening before. `
` `
` But although her voice--sweet, full, and sonorous--vibrated as `
` harmoniously and as affectingly as ever, the door remained shut. `
` It appeared however to Milady that in one of the furtive glances `
` she darted from time to time at the grating of the door she `
` thought she saw the ardent eyes of the young man through the `
` narrow opening. But whether this was reality or vision, he had `
` this time sufficient self-command not to enter. `
` `
` However, a few instants after she had finished her religious `
` song, Milady thought she heard a profound sigh. Then the same `
` steps she had heard approach slowly withdrew, as if with regret. `
` `
` `
` `
` 55 CAPTIVITY: THE FOURTH DAY `
` `
` The next day, when Felton entered Milady's apartment he found her `
` standing, mounted upon a chair, holding in her hands a cord made `
` by means of torn cambric handkerchiefs, twisted into a kind of `
` rope one with another, and tied at the ends. At the noise Felton `
` made in entering, Milady leaped lightly to the ground, and tried `
` to conceal behind her the improvised cord she held in her hand. `
` `
` The young man was more pale than usual, and his eyes, reddened by `
` want of sleep, denoted that he had passed a feverish night. `
` Nevertheless, his brow was armed with a severity more austere `
` than ever. `
` `
` He advanced slowly toward Milady, who had seated herself, and `
` taking an end of the murderous rope which by neglect, or perhaps `
` by design, she allowed to be seen, "What is this, madame?" he `
` asked coldly. `
` `
` "That? Nothing," said Milady, smiling with that painful `
` expression which she knew so well how to give to her smile. `
` "Ennui is the mortal enemy of prisoners; I had ennui, and I `
` amused myself with twisting that rope." `
` `
` Felton turned his eyes toward the part of the wall of the `
` apartment before which he had found Milady standing in the `
` armchair in which she was now seated, and over her head he `
` perceived a gilt-headed screw, fixed in the wall for the purpose `
` of hanging up clothes or weapons. `
` `
` He started, and the prisoner saw that start--for though her eyes `
` were cast down, nothing escaped her. `
` `
` "What were you doing on that armchair?" asked he. `
` `
` "Of what consequence?" replied Milady. `
` `
` "But," replied Felton, "I wish to know." `
` `
` "Do not question me," said the prisoner; "you know that we who `
` are true Christians are forbidden to lie." `
` `
` "Well, then," said Felton, "I will tell you what you were doing, `
` or rather what you meant to do; you were going to complete the `
` fatal project you cherish in your mind. Remember, madame, if our `
` God forbids falsehood, he much more severely condemns suicide." `
` `
` "When God sees one of his creatures persecuted unjustly, placed `
` between suicide and dishonor, believe me, sir," replied Milady, `
` in a tone of deep conviction, "God pardons suicide, for then `
` suicide becomes martyrdom." `
` `
` "You say either too much or too little; speak, madame. In the `
` name of heaven, explain yourself." `
` `
` "That I may relate my misfortunes for you to treat them as `
` fables; that I may tell you my projects for you to go and betray `
` them to my persecutor? No, sir. Besides, of what importance to `
` you is the life or death of a condemned wretch? You are only `
` responsible for my body, is it not so? And provided you produce `
` a carcass that may be recognized as mine, they will require no `
` more of you; nay, perhaps you will even have a double reward." `
` `
` "I, madame, I?" cried Felton. "You suppose that I would ever `
` accept the price of your life? Oh, you cannot believe what you `
` say!" `
` `
` "Let me act as I please, Felton, let me act as I please," said `
` Milady, elated. "Every soldier must be ambitious, must he not? `
` You are a lieutenant? Well, you will follow me to the grave with `
` the rank of captain." `
` `
` "What have I, then, done to you," said Felton, much agitated, `
` "that you should load me with such a responsibility before God `
` and before men? In a few days you will be away from this place; `
` your life, madame, will then no longer be under my care, and," `
` added he, with a sigh, "then you can do what you will with it." `
` `
` "So," cried Milady, as if she could not resist giving utterance `
` to a holy indignation, "you, a pious man, you who are called a `
` just man, you ask but one thing--and that is that you may not be `
` inculpated, annoyed, by my death!" `
` `
` "It is my duty to watch over your life, madame, and I will `
` watch." `
` `
` "But do you understand the mission you are fulfilling? Cruel `
` enough, if I am guilty; but what name can you give it, what name `
` will the Lord give it, if I am innocent?" `
` `
` "I am a soldier, madame, and fulfill the orders I have received." `
` `
` "Do you believe, then, that at the day of the Last Judgment God `
` will separate blind executioners from iniquitous judges? You are `
` not willing that I should kill my body, and you make yourself the `
` agent of him who would kill my soul." `
` `
` "But I repeat it again to you," replied Felton, in great emotion, `
` "no danger threatens you; I will answer for Lord de Winter as for `
` myself." `
` `
` "Dunce," cried Milady, "dunce! who dares to answer for another `
` man, when the wisest, when those most after God's own heart, `
` hesitate to answer for themselves, and who ranges himself on the `
` side of the strongest and the most fortunate, to crush the `
` weakest and the most unfortunate." `
` `
` "Impossible, madame, impossible," murmured Felton, who felt to `
` the bottom of his heart the justness of this argument. "A `
` prisoner, you will not recover your liberty through me; living, `
` you will not lose your life through me." `
` `
` "Yes," cried Milady, "but I shall lose that which is much dearer `
` to me than life, I shall lose my honor, Felton; and it is you, `
` you whom I make responsible, before God and before men, for my `
` shame and my infamy." `
` `
` This time Felton, immovable as he was, or appeared to be, could `
` not resist the secret influence which had already taken `
` possession of him. To see this woman, so beautiful, fair as the `
` brightest vision, to see her by turns overcome with grief and `
` threatening; to resist at once the ascendancy of grief and `
` beauty--it was too much for a visionary; it was too much for a `
` brain weakened by the ardent dreams of an ecstatic faith; it was `
` too much for a heart furrowed by the love of heaven that burns, `
` by the hatred of men that devours. `
` `
` Milady saw the trouble. She felt by intuition the flame of the `
` opposing passions which burned with the blood in the veins of the `
` young fanatic. As a skillful general, seeing the enemy ready to `
`
` `
` "And I reply to you, sir, that this abuse of power, this exile `
` under a fictitious name, are infamous!" `
` `
` "Would you like better to be hanged in your true name, Milady? `
` You know that the English laws are inexorable on the abuse of `
` marriage. Speak freely. Although my name, or rather that of my `
` brother, would be mixed up with the affair, I will risk the `
` scandal of a public trial to make myself certain of getting rid `
` of you." `
` `
` Milady made no reply, but became as pale as a corpse. `
` `
` "Oh, I see you prefer peregrination. That's well madame; and `
` there is an old proverb that says, 'Traveling trains youth.' My `
` faith! you are not wrong after all, and life is sweet. That's `
` the reason why I take such care you shall not deprive me of mine. `
` There only remains, then, the question of the five shillings to `
` be settled. You think me rather parsimonious, don't you? That's `
` because I don't care to leave you the means of corrupting your `
` jailers. Besides, you will always have your charms left to `
` seduce them with. Employ them, if your check with regard to `
` Felton has not disgusted you with attempts of that kind." `
` `
` "Felton has not told him," said Milady to herself. "Nothing is `
` lost, then." `
` `
` "And now, madame, till I see you again! Tomorrow I will come and `
` announce to you the departure of my messenger." `
` `
` Lord de Winter rose, saluted her ironically, and went out. `
` `
` Milady breathed again. She had still four days before her. Four `
` days would quite suffice to complete the seduction of Felton. `
` `
` A terrible idea, however, rushed into her mind. She thought that `
` Lord de Winter would perhaps send Felton himself to get the order `
` signed by the Duke of Buckingham. In that case Felton would `
` escape her--for in order to secure success, the magic of a `
` continuous seduction was necessary. Nevertheless, as we have `
` said, one circumstance reassured her. Felton had not spoken. `
` `
` As she would not appear to be agitated by the threats of Lord de `
` Winter, she placed herself at the table and ate. `
` `
` Then, as she had done the evening before, she fell on her knees `
` and repeated her prayers aloud. As on the evening before, the `
` soldier stopped his march to listen to her. `
` `
` Soon after she heard lighter steps than those of the sentinel, `
` which came from the end of the corridor and stopped before her `
` door. `
` `
` "It is he," said she. And she began the same religious chant `
` which had so strongly excited Felton the evening before. `
` `
` But although her voice--sweet, full, and sonorous--vibrated as `
` harmoniously and as affectingly as ever, the door remained shut. `
` It appeared however to Milady that in one of the furtive glances `
` she darted from time to time at the grating of the door she `
` thought she saw the ardent eyes of the young man through the `
` narrow opening. But whether this was reality or vision, he had `
` this time sufficient self-command not to enter. `
` `
` However, a few instants after she had finished her religious `
` song, Milady thought she heard a profound sigh. Then the same `
` steps she had heard approach slowly withdrew, as if with regret. `
` `
` `
` `
` 55 CAPTIVITY: THE FOURTH DAY `
` `
` The next day, when Felton entered Milady's apartment he found her `
` standing, mounted upon a chair, holding in her hands a cord made `
` by means of torn cambric handkerchiefs, twisted into a kind of `
` rope one with another, and tied at the ends. At the noise Felton `
` made in entering, Milady leaped lightly to the ground, and tried `
` to conceal behind her the improvised cord she held in her hand. `
` `
` The young man was more pale than usual, and his eyes, reddened by `
` want of sleep, denoted that he had passed a feverish night. `
` Nevertheless, his brow was armed with a severity more austere `
` than ever. `
` `
` He advanced slowly toward Milady, who had seated herself, and `
` taking an end of the murderous rope which by neglect, or perhaps `
` by design, she allowed to be seen, "What is this, madame?" he `
` asked coldly. `
` `
` "That? Nothing," said Milady, smiling with that painful `
` expression which she knew so well how to give to her smile. `
` "Ennui is the mortal enemy of prisoners; I had ennui, and I `
` amused myself with twisting that rope." `
` `
` Felton turned his eyes toward the part of the wall of the `
` apartment before which he had found Milady standing in the `
` armchair in which she was now seated, and over her head he `
` perceived a gilt-headed screw, fixed in the wall for the purpose `
` of hanging up clothes or weapons. `
` `
` He started, and the prisoner saw that start--for though her eyes `
` were cast down, nothing escaped her. `
` `
` "What were you doing on that armchair?" asked he. `
` `
` "Of what consequence?" replied Milady. `
` `
` "But," replied Felton, "I wish to know." `
` `
` "Do not question me," said the prisoner; "you know that we who `
` are true Christians are forbidden to lie." `
` `
` "Well, then," said Felton, "I will tell you what you were doing, `
` or rather what you meant to do; you were going to complete the `
` fatal project you cherish in your mind. Remember, madame, if our `
` God forbids falsehood, he much more severely condemns suicide." `
` `
` "When God sees one of his creatures persecuted unjustly, placed `
` between suicide and dishonor, believe me, sir," replied Milady, `
` in a tone of deep conviction, "God pardons suicide, for then `
` suicide becomes martyrdom." `
` `
` "You say either too much or too little; speak, madame. In the `
` name of heaven, explain yourself." `
` `
` "That I may relate my misfortunes for you to treat them as `
` fables; that I may tell you my projects for you to go and betray `
` them to my persecutor? No, sir. Besides, of what importance to `
` you is the life or death of a condemned wretch? You are only `
` responsible for my body, is it not so? And provided you produce `
` a carcass that may be recognized as mine, they will require no `
` more of you; nay, perhaps you will even have a double reward." `
` `
` "I, madame, I?" cried Felton. "You suppose that I would ever `
` accept the price of your life? Oh, you cannot believe what you `
` say!" `
` `
` "Let me act as I please, Felton, let me act as I please," said `
` Milady, elated. "Every soldier must be ambitious, must he not? `
` You are a lieutenant? Well, you will follow me to the grave with `
` the rank of captain." `
` `
` "What have I, then, done to you," said Felton, much agitated, `
` "that you should load me with such a responsibility before God `
` and before men? In a few days you will be away from this place; `
` your life, madame, will then no longer be under my care, and," `
` added he, with a sigh, "then you can do what you will with it." `
` `
` "So," cried Milady, as if she could not resist giving utterance `
` to a holy indignation, "you, a pious man, you who are called a `
` just man, you ask but one thing--and that is that you may not be `
` inculpated, annoyed, by my death!" `
` `
` "It is my duty to watch over your life, madame, and I will `
` watch." `
` `
` "But do you understand the mission you are fulfilling? Cruel `
` enough, if I am guilty; but what name can you give it, what name `
` will the Lord give it, if I am innocent?" `
` `
` "I am a soldier, madame, and fulfill the orders I have received." `
` `
` "Do you believe, then, that at the day of the Last Judgment God `
` will separate blind executioners from iniquitous judges? You are `
` not willing that I should kill my body, and you make yourself the `
` agent of him who would kill my soul." `
` `
` "But I repeat it again to you," replied Felton, in great emotion, `
` "no danger threatens you; I will answer for Lord de Winter as for `
` myself." `
` `
` "Dunce," cried Milady, "dunce! who dares to answer for another `
` man, when the wisest, when those most after God's own heart, `
` hesitate to answer for themselves, and who ranges himself on the `
` side of the strongest and the most fortunate, to crush the `
` weakest and the most unfortunate." `
` `
` "Impossible, madame, impossible," murmured Felton, who felt to `
` the bottom of his heart the justness of this argument. "A `
` prisoner, you will not recover your liberty through me; living, `
` you will not lose your life through me." `
` `
` "Yes," cried Milady, "but I shall lose that which is much dearer `
` to me than life, I shall lose my honor, Felton; and it is you, `
` you whom I make responsible, before God and before men, for my `
` shame and my infamy." `
` `
` This time Felton, immovable as he was, or appeared to be, could `
` not resist the secret influence which had already taken `
` possession of him. To see this woman, so beautiful, fair as the `
` brightest vision, to see her by turns overcome with grief and `
` threatening; to resist at once the ascendancy of grief and `
` beauty--it was too much for a visionary; it was too much for a `
` brain weakened by the ardent dreams of an ecstatic faith; it was `
` too much for a heart furrowed by the love of heaven that burns, `
` by the hatred of men that devours. `
` `
` Milady saw the trouble. She felt by intuition the flame of the `
` opposing passions which burned with the blood in the veins of the `
` young fanatic. As a skillful general, seeing the enemy ready to `
`