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The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Three Musketeers 66 at Prostate Health
of very repulsive mien, with a
pointed nose, with yellow and salient cheek bones, with eyes
small but keen and penetrating, and an expression of countenance
resembling at once the polecat and the fox. His head, supported
by a long and flexible neck, issued from his large black robe,
balancing itself with a motion very much like that of the
tortoise thrusting his head out of his shell. He began by asking
M. Bonacieux his name, age, condition, and abode.
The accused replied that his name was Jacques Michel Bonacieux,
that he was fifty-one years old, a retired mercer, and lived Rue
des Fossoyeurs, No. 14.
The commissary then, instead of continuing to interrogate him,
made him a long speech upon the danger there is for an obscure
citizen to meddle with public matters. He complicated this
exordium by an exposition in which he painted the power and the
deeds of the cardinal, that incomparable minister, that conqueror
of past ministers, that example for ministers to come--deeds and
power which none could thwart with impunity.
After this second part of his discourse, fixing his hawks eye
upon poor Bonacieux, he bade him reflect upon the gravity of his
situation.
The reflections of the mercer were already made; he cursed the
instant when M. Laporte formed the idea of marrying him to his
goddaughter, and particularly the moment when that goddaughter
had been received as Lady of the Linen to her Majesty.
At bottom the character of M. Bonacieux was one of profound
selfishness mixed with sordid avarice, the whole seasoned with
extreme cowardice. The love with which his young wife had
inspired him was a secondary sentiment, and was not strong enough
to contend with the primitive feelings we have just enumerated.
Bonacieux indeed reflected on what had just been said to him.
"But, Monsieur Commissary," said he, calmly, "believe that I know
and appreciate, more than anybody, the merit of the incomparable
eminence by whom we have the honor to be governed."
"Indeed?" asked the commissary, with an air of doubt. "If that
is really so, how came you in the Bastille?"
"How I came there, or rather why I am there," replied Bonacieux,
"that is entirely impossible for me to tell you, because I dont
know myself; but to a certainty it is not for having, knowingly
at least, disobliged Monsieur the Cardinal."
"You must, nevertheless, have committed a crime, since you are
here and are accused of high treason."
"Of high treason!" cried Bonacieux, terrified; "of high treason!
How is it possible for a poor mercer, who detests Huguenots and
who abhors Spaniards, to be accused of high treason? Consider,
monsieur, the thing is absolutely impossible."
"Monsieur Bonacieux," said the commissary, looking at the accused
as if his little eyes had the faculty of reading to the very
depths of hearts, "you have a wife?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied the mercer, in a tremble, feeling that
it was at this point affairs were likely to become perplexing;
"that is to say, I HAD one."
"What, you had one? What have you done with her, then, if you
have her no longer?"
"They have abducted her, monsieur."
"They have abducted her? Ah!"
Bonacieux inferred from this "Ah" that the affair grew more and
more intricate.
"They have abducted her," added the commissary; "and do you know
the man who has committed this deed?"
"I think I know him."
"Who is he?"
"Remember that I affirm nothing, Monsieur the Commissary, and
that I only suspect."
"Whom do you suspect? Come, answer freely."
M. Bonacieux was in the greatest perplexity possible. Had he
better deny everything or tell everything? By denying all, it
might be suspected that he must know too much to avow; by
confessing all he might prove his good will. He decided, then,
to tell all.
"I suspect," said he, "a tall, dark man, of lofty carriage, who
has the air of a great lord. He has followed us several times,
as I think, when I have waited for my wife at the wicket of the
Louvre to escort her home."
The commissary now appeared to experience a little uneasiness.
"And his name?" said he.
"Oh, as to his name, I know nothing about it; but if I were ever
to meet him, I should recognize him in an instant, I will answer
for it, were he among a thousand persons."
The face of the commissary grew still darker.
"You should recognize him among a thousand, say you?" continued
he.
"That is to say," cried Bonacieux, who saw he had taken a false
step, "that is to
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