Alexandre Dumas - The Three Musketeers

Treville smiled; but conceiving that he had already secured an important advantage, by thus inducing the pupil to rebel against his master, he respectfully saluted the king, and, with his permission, made his retiral.

The same evening the three musketeers were apprised of the honour intended for them. As they had long known the king, they were not much enchanted by the news; but d’Artagnan, with his Gascon imagination, saw in it his future fortunes, and passed the night amid golden dreams. By eight in the morning he was with Athos, whom he found dressed, and ready to go out.

As they were not to see the king until twelve o’clock, and Athos had engaged to meet Porthos and Aramis at a tennis-court, near the Luxembourg stables, to play a match of tennis, he invited d’Artagnan to join them. Although ignorant of the game, which he had never played, d’Artagnan accepted the invitation, not knowing how otherwise to dispose of his time in the interval. Porthos and Aramis were already there, knocking the balls about. Athos, who was very skilful in all athletic games, went to one side with d’Artagnan, and challenged them. But at the first movement which he made, although he played with his left hand, he found that his wound was too fresh to permit such an exertion. D’Artagnan, therefore, remained alone; and as he declared that he was too unskilful to play a regular game, they only sent the balls about, without counting the points. One of these balls, however, driven by the Herculean hand of Porthos, passed so near d’Artagnan as to satisfy him that, had it hit him full in the face, instead of going on one side, his royal audience would have been lost, as, in all probability, he would thereby have been rendered unfit to be presented to the king. Now, since, in his Gascon imagination, all his fortune depended upon this audience, he politely saluted Porthos and Aramis, declaring that he would not renew the game until he was up to their standard, and then took his station near the ropes and the gallery.

Unfortunately for d’Artagnan, amongst the spectators there was one of the cardinal’s guards, who was irritated by the previous night’s defeat of his companions, and had resolved to take the first opportunity of avenging it. He now believed that this opportunity had arrived, and addressing a bystander—

“It is no wonder,” said he, “that this young man is afraid of the ball; he is, doubtless, a musketeer recruit.”

D’Artagnan turned as if bitten by a serpent, and looked fiercely at the guardsman who had uttered this insolent remark.

“I’faith,” continued the latter, proudly curling his moustache, “you may look at me as much as you please, my little gentleman. What I have said, I mean.”

“And since what you have said explains itself,” replied d’Artagnan, in a low voice, “I will thank you to follow me.”

“Ah! indeed! and when, pray?” said the guardsman, with the same air of mockery.

“Immediately, if you please.”

“Doubtless you know who I am?”

“I have not the slightest idea; and, what is more, I do not care.”

“And yet you are wrong; for if you knew my name, perhaps you would be less courageous.”

“Indeed! and pray what is your name?” said d’Artagnan.

“Bernajoux, at your service.”

“Well, M. Bernajoux,” replied d’Artagnan with the utmost tranquillity, “I shall await you at the gate.”

“Proceed, sir; I will follow you.”

“But do not be in too great haste, sir,” said d’Artagnan, “lest it should be perceived that we go out together; for, considering how we are about to be engaged, you must be aware that too many witnesses might prove inconvenient.”

“There is some sense in that,” replied the guardsman, much surprised that his name had not produced a greater effect on the young man.

The name of Bernajoux was indeed known to everyone, except d’Artagnan; for he was one of those who constantly figured in the daily brawls which all the edicts of the king and the cardinal could not suppress.

Porthos and Aramis were so much occupied by their game, and Athos was watching them so attentively, that they did not even perceive the departure of their young companion, who, as he had promised, waited a moment at the door for his opponent. In fact, d’Artagnan had no time to lose, considering the expected audience, which was fixed for twelve o’clock. He therefore cast his eyes around, and seeing that there was no one in the street—

“Faith, sir,” said he to his adversary, “although your name is Bernajoux, it is very fortunate for you that you have to deal with a musketeer recruit only. However, be content: I will do my best. On your guard, sir!”

“But,” said he whom d’Artagnan thus addressed, “it appears to me this place is badly chosen, and that we should be better behind the abbey of St. Germain, or in the Pre-aux-Clercs.”

“True enough,” replied d’Artagnan, “but, unfortunately, my time is precious, as I have an important engagement precisely at twelve; therefore draw, sir, draw!”

Bernajoux was not the man to wait the repetition of such a compliment. In an instant, therefore, his sword glittered in his hand, and he rushed upon his adversary, whom, on account of his extreme youth, he hoped to intimidate.

But d’Artagnan had served his apprenticeship the evening before, and now fresh, and elated with his victory, as well as inflamed with hopes of future favour, he was fully resolved not to recede an inch. The two swords were therefore engaged, even to the guard; and as d’Artagnan kept his ground firmly, his adversary was obliged to retreat a single step. By this movement Bernajoux’s sword deviated from “opposition,” and d’Artagnan, seizing the opportunity, made a lunge which wounded his adversary in the shoulder. He immediately stepped back one pace, and raised his sword; but Bernajoux, declaring that it was nothing, made a blind thrust at d’Artagnan, and impaled himself upon his sword. Nevertheless, as Bernajoux neither fell, nor declared himself vanquished, but merely retreated towards the hotel of M. de la Tremouille, in whose service he had a relative, d’Artagnan, ignorant of the severity of his adversary’s wound, pressed him closely, and doubtless would have despatched him by a third thrust, had not the clash of the rapiers reached the tennis-court, from which now rushed, sword in hand, two of the guardsman’s friends (who had heard him exchange words with d’Artagnan), and fell upon the conqueror. But Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, now also joined the fray; and at the moment when the two guardsmen attacked their young comrade, forced them to turn. At that instant Bernajoux fell; and as the guards were then only two against four, they began to cry out—“To our aid! hotel de la Tremouille!” At this cry, all the inmates of the hotel rushed out, and fell upon the four friends; who, on their side, exclaimed “Help, musketeers!”

The latter cry was very common; for it was known that the musketeers hated the cardinal, and they were beloved for the very hatred they bore towards his eminence. Hence, in those quarrels, the guards of all the other regiments, excepting those actually belonging to the Red Duke, as Aramis had designated the cardinal, generally sided with the king’s musketeers. Of three guardsmen, who were passing, of the company of M. des Essarts, two came to the assistance of the four friends, whilst the third ran to the hotel of M. de Treville, crying, “Help! musketeers, help!” As usual, M. de Treville’s hotel was full of soldiers, who ran to the assistance of their comrades, and the battle became general. But the superiority of force was with the musketeers; and the cardinal’s guards, with M. de la Tremouille’s people, retired into the hotel, the doors of which they secured in time to exclude their opponents. As for the wounded man, he had been carried away at first, and, as we have said, in very bad plight.