Alexandre Dumas - The Three Musketeers

“Ah! the niece of this doctor has a carriage,” interrupted Porthos, whose chief fault consisted in having too long a tongue. “A desirable connection, my friend!”

“Porthos,” said Aramis, “I have often intimated to you, that you are very indiscreet, and it does you no good in the eyes of gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, who saw how the adventure arose, “the thing is serious; let us endeavour to avoid joking. Go on, Aramis; go on.”

“All of a sudden a tall, dark man, with the manners of a gentleman—like your man, d’Artagnan—”

“The same, perhaps,” said the Gascon.

“It is possible!” said Aramis; “however, he approached me, accompanied by six or seven men, who followed him at about ten paces’ distance, and then, in the most polite tone, said, ‘My lord duke, and you, madame,’ addressing the lady—”

“What! the doctor’s niece?” said Porthos.

“Silence, Porthos,” said Athos; “you are insupportable.”

“‘Please to enter that carriage, without resistance, and in silence.’”

“He took you for Buckingham?” said d’Artagnan.

“Almost certainly,” said Aramis.

“But this lady?” said Porthos.

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

“Precisely!” said Aramis.

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

“The fact is,” said Porthos, “that Aramis is about the height, and has something of the figure, of the handsome duke; and yet one would think that the uniform of a musketeer—”

“I had on an enormous cloak.”

“In the month of July! Excellent!” cried Porthos; “was the doctor afraid that you might be recognised?”

“I can conceive,” said Athos, “that the spy might be deceived by the figure; but the countenance?”

“I had a large hat,” replied Aramis.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Porthos, “what extraordinary precautions for studying theology?”

“Gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, “do not let us lose our time in badinage; let us rather make inquiries, and discover the mercer’s wife, who might prove a key to the intrigue.”

“What! a woman of such an inferior condition! Do you think it likely, d’Artagnan?” asked Porthos, with a derisive pout.

“Have I not told you, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, “that she is the god-daughter of la Porte, who is the confidential servant of the queen. Perhaps it is her majesty’s policy to seek assistance from a source so humble. Lofty heads are visible at a distance, and the cardinal has a good eye.”

“Well, then,” said Porthos, “come to terms with the mercer immediately, and good terms.”

“It is unnecessary,” said d’Artagnan; “if he should not pay us, we shall be well enough paid from another quarter.”

At this moment a noise of hasty steps was heard upon the stairs; the door opened with a crash, and the unhappy mercer rushed into the room in which this council had taken place.

“Oh, gentlemen!” he exclaimed, “save me, save me! in the name of heaven save me! There are four men come to arrest me!”

Porthos and Aramis arose.

“One moment,” cried d’Artagnan, making them a sign to sheath their swords, which they had half drawn—“wait one moment; it is not courage, but diplomacy, that is necessary here!”

“Nevertheless,” said Porthos, “we will not permit—”

“Give d’Artagnan a free hand,” said Athos; “he is the cleverest of the party, and, for my part, I declare that I will obey him. Do what you like, d’Artagnan.”

As this speech was uttered, the four guards appeared at the door of the ante-room, but seeing four musketeers standing there, with swords by their sides, they hesitated to advance any farther.

“Enter, gentlemen, enter,” said d’Artagnan; “you are in my apartment, and we are all the loyal subjects of the king and cardinal.”

“Then, gentlemen, you will not oppose any obstacle to the execution of our orders?” demanded he who appeared to be the leader of the party.

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

“What is he saying?” inquired Porthos.

“You are stupid!” said Athos. “Silence!”

“But you promised to assist me!” whispered the poor mercer.

“We cannot assist you in prison,” hastily replied d’Artagnan, in an undertone; “and if we appear to defend you, we shall be arrested also.”

“It seems to me, however—” said the poor man.

“Come, gentlemen, come,” said d’Artagnan aloud. “I have no motive for defending this person; I saw him today for the first time, and on what occasion he will himself tell you. He came to demand his rent—did you not, M. Bonancieux?—Answer!”

“It is the plain truth!” cried the mercer; “but the gentleman does not add—”

“Silence about me! silence concerning my friends! silence, more especially, about the queen!” whispered d’Artagnan, “or you will destroy us all, without saving yourself,—Go, go, gentlemen, take away this man!”

So saying, d’Artagnan pushed the poor bewildered mercer into the hands of the guard, at the same time exclaiming—

“You are a rascally niggard! You come to demand money of me , a musketeer!—to prison with you! Gentlemen, I say again, take him to prison; and keep him under lock and key as long as possible; that will give me time to pay.”

The officers overwhelmed d’Artagnan with thanks, and carried off their prey.

As they were leaving, d’Artagnan detained the leader.

“Suppose we drank to each other’s health?” said he, filling two glasses with the Beaugency, for which he was indebted to the liberality of M. Bonancieux.

“It will be a great honour to me,” replied the leader of the guards; “and I accept the offer with gratitude.”

“Here’s to you, then, M.—You have the advantage of me, sir.”

“Boisrenard.”

“M. Boisrenard!”

“I drink to you, sir, but, in return, you have the advantage of me.”

“D’Artagnan.”

“To your health, M. d’Artagnan!”

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

The officer might have doubted d’Artagnan’s sincerity had the wine been bad; but it was excellent, and he was satisfied.

“But what devil’s own villainy have you done now?” exclaimed Porthos, when the officer had joined his companions, and the four friends found themselves alone. “For shame! Four musketeers allow a miserable creature, who implored their assistance, to be arrested in the midst of them! and, more than that, a gentleman to tipple with a bailiff!”

“Porthos,” said Aramis, “Athos has already told you that you are stupid; and I am of his opinion. D’Artagnan, you are a great man; and when you are in M. de Treville’s situation, I beg your interest to procure me an abbey.”

“Ah! I am quite in the dark!” said Porthos. “Do you also, Athos, approve of what d’Artagnan has done?”

“Most assuredly!” said Athos. “I not only approve of it, but I congratulate him.”

“And now, gentlemen,” said d’Artagnan, not deigning to explain himself to Porthos—“‘All for one—one for all!’ this is our motto, is it not?”

“Nevertheless—” said Porthos.

“Stretch out your hand and swear,” cried Athos and Aramis at the same time.

Conquered by the example, but muttering in a low tone, Porthos stretched out his hand, and the four friends repeated with one voice the formal motto dictated by d’Artagnan—

“‘All for one; and one for all!’”

“That is right. Now, retire to your homes,” said d’Artagnan, as if he had never been accustomed to anything but to command others. “But,” he added, “be watchful; for remember, that from this moment we are at issue with the cardinal!”