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Books
The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Three Musketeers 56 at Prostate Health
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 dArtagnan 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.
DArtagnan 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 dArtagnans 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, dArtagnan 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 Aramiss room.
Upon gaining this advantage dArtagnan was near uttering a cry of
surprise; it was not Aramis who was conversing with the nocturnal
visitor, it was a woman! DArtagnan, 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 dArtagnan, pulling
down the hood of her mantle; but the precaution was too late,
dArtagnan had already recognized Mme. Bonacieux.
Mme. Bonacieux! The suspicion that it was she had crossed the
mind of dArtagnan 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 dArtagnan 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.
DArtagnan 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
dArtagnan 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!"
DArtagnan 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 dArtagnan,
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