Reading Help The Three Musketeers Ch.1-18
he did think of him, it was only to say to himself that he was `
` very well where he was, wherever it might be. Love is the most `
` selfish of all the passions. `
` `
` Let our readers reassure themselves. IF d'Artagnan forgets his `
` host, or appears to forget him, under the pretense of not knowing `
` where he has been carried, we will not forget him, and we know `
` where he is. But for the moment, let us do as did the amorous `
` Gascon; we will see after the worthy mercer later. `
` `
` D'Artagnan, reflecting on his future amours, addressing himself `
` to the beautiful night, and smiling at the stars, ascended the `
` Rue Cherish-Midi, or Chase-Midi, as it was then called. As he `
` found himself in the quarter in which Aramis lived, he took it `
` into his head to pay his friend a visit in order to explain the `
` motives which had led him to send Planchet with a request that he `
` would come instantly to the mousetrap. Now, if Aramis had been `
` at home when Planchet came to his abode, he had doubtless `
` hastened to the Rue des Fossoyeurs, and finding nobody there but `
` his other two companions perhaps, they would not be able to `
` conceive what all this meant. This mystery required an `
` explanation; at least, so d'Artagnan declared to himself. `
` `
` He likewise thought this was an opportunity for talking about `
` pretty little Mme. Bonacieux, of whom his head, if not his heart, `
` was already full. We must never look for discretion in first `
` love. First love is accompanied by such excessive joy that `
` unless the joy be allowed to overflow, it will stifle you. `
` `
` Paris for two hours past had been dark, and seemed a desert. `
` Eleven o'clock sounded from all the clocks of the Faubourg St. `
` Germain. It was delightful weather. D'Artagnan was passing `
` along a lane on the spot where the Rue d'Assas is now situated, `
` breathing the balmy emanations which were borne upon the wind `
` from the Rue de Vaugirard, and which arose from the gardens `
` refreshed by the dews of evening and the breeze of night. From a `
` distance resounded, deadened, however, by good shutters, the `
` songs of the tipplers, enjoying themselves in the cabarets `
` scattered along the plain. Arrived at the end of the lane, `
` d'Artagnan turned to the left. The house in which Aramis dwelt `
` was situated between the Rue Cassette and the Rue Servandoni. `
` `
` D'Artagnan had just passed the Rue Cassette, and already `
` perceived the door of his friend's house, shaded by a mass of `
` sycamores and clematis which formed a vast arch opposite the `
` front of it, when he perceived something like a shadow issuing `
` from the Rue Servandoni. This something was enveloped in a `
` cloak, and d'Artagnan at first believed it was a man; but by the `
` smallness of the form, the hesitation of the walk, and the `
` indecision of the step, he soon discovered that it was a woman. `
` Further, this woman, as if not certain of the house she was `
` seeking, lifted up her eyes to look around her, stopped, went `
` backward, and then returned again. D'Artagnan was perplexed. `
` `
` "Shall I go and offer her my services?" thought he. "By her step `
` she must be young; perhaps she is pretty. Oh, yes! But a woman `
` who wanders in the streets at this hour only ventures out to meet `
` her lover. If I should disturb a rendezvous, that would not be `
` the best means of commencing an acquaintance." `
` `
` Meantime the young woman continued to advance, counting the `
` houses and windows. This was neither long nor difficult. There `
` were but three hotels in this part of the street; and only two `
` windows looking toward the road, one of which was in a pavilion `
` parallel to that which Aramis occupied, the other belonging to `
` Aramis himself. `
` `
` "PARIDIEU!" said d'Artagnan to himself, to whose mind the niece `
` of the theologian reverted, "PARDIEU, it would be droll if this `
` belated dove should be in search of our friend's house. But on `
` my soul, it looks so. Ah, my dear Aramis, this time I shall find `
` you out." And d'Artagnan, making himself as small as he could, `
` concealed himself in the darkest side of the street near a stone `
` bench placed at the back of a niche. `
` `
` The young woman continued to advance; and in addition to the `
` lightness of her step, which had betrayed her, she emitted a `
` little cough which denoted a sweet voice. D'Artagnan believed `
` this cough to be a signal. `
` `
` Nevertheless, whether the cough had been answered by a similar `
` signal which had fixed the irresolution of the nocturnal seeker, `
` or whether without this aid she saw that she had arrived at the `
` end of her journey, she resolutely drew near to Aramis's shutter, `
` and tapped, at three equal intervals, with her bent finger. `
` `
` "This is all very fine, dear Aramis," murmured d'Artagnan. `
` "Ah, Monsieur Hypocrite, I understand how you study theology." `
` `
` The three blows were scarcely struck, when the inside blind was `
` opened and a light appeared through the panes of the outside `
` shutter. `
` `
` "Ah, ah!" said the listener, "not through doors, but through `
` windows! Ah, this visit was expected. We shall see the windows `
` open, and the lady enter by escalade. Very pretty!" `
` `
` But to the great astonishment of d'Artagnan, the shutter remained `
` closed. Still more, the light which had shone for an instant `
` disappeared, and all was again in obscurity. `
` `
` D'Artagnan thought this could not last long, and continued to `
` look with all his eyes and listen with all his ears. `
` `
` He was right; at the end of some seconds two sharp taps were `
` heard inside. The young woman in the street replied by a single `
` tap, and the shutter was opened a little way. `
` `
` It may be judged whether d'Artagnan looked or listened with `
` avidity. Unfortunately the light had been removed into another `
` chamber; but the eyes of the young man were accustomed to the `
` night. Besides, the eyes of the Gascons have, as it is asserted, `
` like those of cats, the faculty of seeing in the dark. `
` `
` D'Artagnan then saw that the young woman took from her pocket a `
` white object, which she unfolded quickly, and which took the form `
` of a handkerchief. She made her interlocutor observe the corner `
` of this unfolded object. `
` `
` This immediately recalled to d'Artagnan's mind the handkerchief `
` which he had found at the feet of Mme. Bonacieux, which had `
` reminded him of that which he had dragged from under the feet of `
` Aramis. `
` `
` "What the devil could that handkerchief signify?" `
` `
` Placed where he was, d'Artagnan could not perceive the face of `
` Aramis. We say Aramis, because the young man entertained no `
` doubt that it was his friend who held this dialogue from the `
` interior with the lady of the exterior. Curiosity prevailed over `
` prudence; and profiting by the preoccupation into which the sight `
` of the handkerchief appeared to have plunged the two personages `
` now on the scene, he stole from his hiding place, and quick as `
` lightning, but stepping with utmost caution, he ran and placed `
` himself close to the angle of the wall, from which his eye could `
` pierce the interior of Aramis's room. `
` `
` Upon gaining this advantage d'Artagnan was near uttering a cry of `
` surprise; it was not Aramis who was conversing with the nocturnal `
` visitor, it was a woman! D'Artagnan, however, could only see `
` enough to recognize the form of her vestments, not enough to `
` distinguish her features. `
` `
` At the same instant the woman inside drew a second handkerchief `
` from her pocket, and exchanged it for that which had just been `
` shown to her. Then some words were spoken by the two women. At `
` length the shutter closed. The woman who was outside the window `
` turned round, and passed within four steps of d'Artagnan, pulling `
` down the hood of her mantle; but the precaution was too late, `
` d'Artagnan had already recognized Mme. Bonacieux. `
` `
` Mme. Bonacieux! The suspicion that it was she had crossed the `
` mind of d'Artagnan when she drew the handkerchief from her `
` pocket; but what probability was there that Mme. Bonacieux, who `
` had sent for M. Laporte in order to be reconducted to the Louvre, `
` should be running about the streets of Paris at half past eleven `
` at night, at the risk of being abducted a second time? `
` `
` This must be, then, an affair of importance; and what is the most `
` important affair to a woman of twenty-five! Love. `
` `
` But was it on her own account, or on account of another, that she `
` exposed herself to such hazards? This was a question the young `
` man asked himself, whom the demon of jealousy already gnawed, `
` being in heart neither more nor less than an accepted lover. `
` `
` There was a very simple means of satisfying himself whither Mme. `
` Bonacieux was going; that was to follow her. This method was so `
` simple that d'Artagnan employed it quite naturally and `
` instinctively. `
` `
` But at the sight of the young man, who detached himself from the `
` wall like a statue walking from its niche, and at the noise of `
` the steps which she heard resound behind her, Mme. Bonacieux `
` uttered a little cry and fled. `
` `
` D'Artagnan ran after her. It was not difficult for him to `
` overtake a woman embarrassed with her cloak. He came up with her `
` before she had traversed a third of the street. The unfortunate `
` woman was exhausted, not by fatigue, but by terror, and when `
` d'Artagnan placed his hand upon her shoulder, she sank upon one `
` knee, crying in a choking voice, "Kill me, if you please, you `
` shall know nothing!" `
` `
` D'Artagnan raised her by passing his arm round her waist; but as `
` he felt by her weight she was on the point of fainting, he made `
` haste to reassure her by protestations of devotedness. These `
` protestations were nothing for Mme. Bonacieux, for such `
` protestations may be made with the worst intentions in the world; `
` but the voice was all. Mme. Bonacieux thought she recognized the `
` sound of that voice; she reopened her eyes, cast a quick glance `
` upon the man who had terrified her so, and at once perceiving it `
` was d'Artagnan, she uttered a cry of joy, "Oh, it is you, it is `
` you! Thank God, thank God!" `
` `
` "Yes, it is I," said d'Artagnan, "it is I, whom God has sent to `
` watch over you." `
` `
` "Was it with that intention you followed me?" asked the young `
` woman, with a coquettish smile, whose somewhat bantering `
` character resumed its influence, and with whom all fear had `
`
` very well where he was, wherever it might be. Love is the most `
` selfish of all the passions. `
` `
` Let our readers reassure themselves. IF d'Artagnan forgets his `
` host, or appears to forget him, under the pretense of not knowing `
` where he has been carried, we will not forget him, and we know `
` where he is. But for the moment, let us do as did the amorous `
` Gascon; we will see after the worthy mercer later. `
` `
` D'Artagnan, reflecting on his future amours, addressing himself `
` to the beautiful night, and smiling at the stars, ascended the `
` Rue Cherish-Midi, or Chase-Midi, as it was then called. As he `
` found himself in the quarter in which Aramis lived, he took it `
` into his head to pay his friend a visit in order to explain the `
` motives which had led him to send Planchet with a request that he `
` would come instantly to the mousetrap. Now, if Aramis had been `
` at home when Planchet came to his abode, he had doubtless `
` hastened to the Rue des Fossoyeurs, and finding nobody there but `
` his other two companions perhaps, they would not be able to `
` conceive what all this meant. This mystery required an `
` explanation; at least, so d'Artagnan declared to himself. `
` `
` He likewise thought this was an opportunity for talking about `
` pretty little Mme. Bonacieux, of whom his head, if not his heart, `
` was already full. We must never look for discretion in first `
` love. First love is accompanied by such excessive joy that `
` unless the joy be allowed to overflow, it will stifle you. `
` `
` Paris for two hours past had been dark, and seemed a desert. `
` Eleven o'clock sounded from all the clocks of the Faubourg St. `
` Germain. It was delightful weather. D'Artagnan was passing `
` along a lane on the spot where the Rue d'Assas is now situated, `
` breathing the balmy emanations which were borne upon the wind `
` from the Rue de Vaugirard, and which arose from the gardens `
` refreshed by the dews of evening and the breeze of night. From a `
` distance resounded, deadened, however, by good shutters, the `
` songs of the tipplers, enjoying themselves in the cabarets `
` scattered along the plain. Arrived at the end of the lane, `
` d'Artagnan turned to the left. The house in which Aramis dwelt `
` was situated between the Rue Cassette and the Rue Servandoni. `
` `
` D'Artagnan had just passed the Rue Cassette, and already `
` perceived the door of his friend's house, shaded by a mass of `
` sycamores and clematis which formed a vast arch opposite the `
` front of it, when he perceived something like a shadow issuing `
` from the Rue Servandoni. This something was enveloped in a `
` cloak, and d'Artagnan at first believed it was a man; but by the `
` smallness of the form, the hesitation of the walk, and the `
` indecision of the step, he soon discovered that it was a woman. `
` Further, this woman, as if not certain of the house she was `
` seeking, lifted up her eyes to look around her, stopped, went `
` backward, and then returned again. D'Artagnan was perplexed. `
` `
` "Shall I go and offer her my services?" thought he. "By her step `
` she must be young; perhaps she is pretty. Oh, yes! But a woman `
` who wanders in the streets at this hour only ventures out to meet `
` her lover. If I should disturb a rendezvous, that would not be `
` the best means of commencing an acquaintance." `
` `
` Meantime the young woman continued to advance, counting the `
` houses and windows. This was neither long nor difficult. There `
` were but three hotels in this part of the street; and only two `
` windows looking toward the road, one of which was in a pavilion `
` parallel to that which Aramis occupied, the other belonging to `
` Aramis himself. `
` `
` "PARIDIEU!" said d'Artagnan to himself, to whose mind the niece `
` of the theologian reverted, "PARDIEU, it would be droll if this `
` belated dove should be in search of our friend's house. But on `
` my soul, it looks so. Ah, my dear Aramis, this time I shall find `
` you out." And d'Artagnan, making himself as small as he could, `
` concealed himself in the darkest side of the street near a stone `
` bench placed at the back of a niche. `
` `
` The young woman continued to advance; and in addition to the `
` lightness of her step, which had betrayed her, she emitted a `
` little cough which denoted a sweet voice. D'Artagnan believed `
` this cough to be a signal. `
` `
` Nevertheless, whether the cough had been answered by a similar `
` signal which had fixed the irresolution of the nocturnal seeker, `
` or whether without this aid she saw that she had arrived at the `
` end of her journey, she resolutely drew near to Aramis's shutter, `
` and tapped, at three equal intervals, with her bent finger. `
` `
` "This is all very fine, dear Aramis," murmured d'Artagnan. `
` "Ah, Monsieur Hypocrite, I understand how you study theology." `
` `
` The three blows were scarcely struck, when the inside blind was `
` opened and a light appeared through the panes of the outside `
` shutter. `
` `
` "Ah, ah!" said the listener, "not through doors, but through `
` windows! Ah, this visit was expected. We shall see the windows `
` open, and the lady enter by escalade. Very pretty!" `
` `
` But to the great astonishment of d'Artagnan, the shutter remained `
` closed. Still more, the light which had shone for an instant `
` disappeared, and all was again in obscurity. `
` `
` D'Artagnan thought this could not last long, and continued to `
` look with all his eyes and listen with all his ears. `
` `
` He was right; at the end of some seconds two sharp taps were `
` heard inside. The young woman in the street replied by a single `
` tap, and the shutter was opened a little way. `
` `
` It may be judged whether d'Artagnan looked or listened with `
` avidity. Unfortunately the light had been removed into another `
` chamber; but the eyes of the young man were accustomed to the `
` night. Besides, the eyes of the Gascons have, as it is asserted, `
` like those of cats, the faculty of seeing in the dark. `
` `
` D'Artagnan then saw that the young woman took from her pocket a `
` white object, which she unfolded quickly, and which took the form `
` of a handkerchief. She made her interlocutor observe the corner `
` of this unfolded object. `
` `
` This immediately recalled to d'Artagnan's mind the handkerchief `
` which he had found at the feet of Mme. Bonacieux, which had `
` reminded him of that which he had dragged from under the feet of `
` Aramis. `
` `
` "What the devil could that handkerchief signify?" `
` `
` Placed where he was, d'Artagnan could not perceive the face of `
` Aramis. We say Aramis, because the young man entertained no `
` doubt that it was his friend who held this dialogue from the `
` interior with the lady of the exterior. Curiosity prevailed over `
` prudence; and profiting by the preoccupation into which the sight `
` of the handkerchief appeared to have plunged the two personages `
` now on the scene, he stole from his hiding place, and quick as `
` lightning, but stepping with utmost caution, he ran and placed `
` himself close to the angle of the wall, from which his eye could `
` pierce the interior of Aramis's room. `
` `
` Upon gaining this advantage d'Artagnan was near uttering a cry of `
` surprise; it was not Aramis who was conversing with the nocturnal `
` visitor, it was a woman! D'Artagnan, however, could only see `
` enough to recognize the form of her vestments, not enough to `
` distinguish her features. `
` `
` At the same instant the woman inside drew a second handkerchief `
` from her pocket, and exchanged it for that which had just been `
` shown to her. Then some words were spoken by the two women. At `
` length the shutter closed. The woman who was outside the window `
` turned round, and passed within four steps of d'Artagnan, pulling `
` down the hood of her mantle; but the precaution was too late, `
` d'Artagnan had already recognized Mme. Bonacieux. `
` `
` Mme. Bonacieux! The suspicion that it was she had crossed the `
` mind of d'Artagnan when she drew the handkerchief from her `
` pocket; but what probability was there that Mme. Bonacieux, who `
` had sent for M. Laporte in order to be reconducted to the Louvre, `
` should be running about the streets of Paris at half past eleven `
` at night, at the risk of being abducted a second time? `
` `
` This must be, then, an affair of importance; and what is the most `
` important affair to a woman of twenty-five! Love. `
` `
` But was it on her own account, or on account of another, that she `
` exposed herself to such hazards? This was a question the young `
` man asked himself, whom the demon of jealousy already gnawed, `
` being in heart neither more nor less than an accepted lover. `
` `
` There was a very simple means of satisfying himself whither Mme. `
` Bonacieux was going; that was to follow her. This method was so `
` simple that d'Artagnan employed it quite naturally and `
` instinctively. `
` `
` But at the sight of the young man, who detached himself from the `
` wall like a statue walking from its niche, and at the noise of `
` the steps which she heard resound behind her, Mme. Bonacieux `
` uttered a little cry and fled. `
` `
` D'Artagnan ran after her. It was not difficult for him to `
` overtake a woman embarrassed with her cloak. He came up with her `
` before she had traversed a third of the street. The unfortunate `
` woman was exhausted, not by fatigue, but by terror, and when `
` d'Artagnan placed his hand upon her shoulder, she sank upon one `
` knee, crying in a choking voice, "Kill me, if you please, you `
` shall know nothing!" `
` `
` D'Artagnan raised her by passing his arm round her waist; but as `
` he felt by her weight she was on the point of fainting, he made `
` haste to reassure her by protestations of devotedness. These `
` protestations were nothing for Mme. Bonacieux, for such `
` protestations may be made with the worst intentions in the world; `
` but the voice was all. Mme. Bonacieux thought she recognized the `
` sound of that voice; she reopened her eyes, cast a quick glance `
` upon the man who had terrified her so, and at once perceiving it `
` was d'Artagnan, she uttered a cry of joy, "Oh, it is you, it is `
` you! Thank God, thank God!" `
` `
` "Yes, it is I," said d'Artagnan, "it is I, whom God has sent to `
` watch over you." `
` `
` "Was it with that intention you followed me?" asked the young `
` woman, with a coquettish smile, whose somewhat bantering `
` character resumed its influence, and with whom all fear had `
`