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The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Vicomte De Bragelonne 389 at Prostate Health
it," said DArtagnan; "the bishop of Vannes
at a rendezvous! He is still the same Abbe Aramis as he was at
Noisy-le-Sec. Yes," he added, after a pause; "but as it is in a
cemetery, the rendezvous is sacred." And he began to laugh.
The conversation lasted for fully half an hour. DArtagnan could not see
the ladys face, for she kept her back turned toward him; but he saw
perfectly well, by the erect attitude of both the speakers, by their
gestures, by the measured and careful manner with which they glanced at
each other, either by way of attack or defense, that they must be
conversing about any other subject than that of love. At the end of the
conversation the lady rose, and bowed most profoundly to Aramis.
"Oh, oh!" said DArtagnan; "this rendezvous finishes like one of a very
tender nature though. The cavalier kneels at the beginning, the young
lady by-and-by gets tamed down, and then it is she who has to
supplicate.--Who is this girl? I would give anything to ascertain."
This seemed impossible, however, for Aramis was the first to leave; the
lady carefully concealed her head and face, and then immediately
separated. DArtagnan could hold out no longer; he ran to the window
which looked out on the Rue de Lyon, and saw Aramis just entering the
inn. The lady was proceeding in quite an opposite direction, and seemed,
in fact, to be about to rejoin an equipage, consisting of two led horses
and a carriage, which he could see standing close to the borders of the
forest. She was walking slowly, her head bent down, absorbed in the
deepest meditation.
"Mordioux! mordioux! I must and will learn who that woman is," said the
musketeer again; and then, without further deliberation, he set off in
pursuit of her. As he was going along, he tried to think how he could
possibly contrive to make her raise her veil. "She is not young," he
said, "and is a woman of high rank in society. I ought to know that
figure and peculiar style of walk." As he ran, the sound of his spurs
and of his boots upon the hard ground of the street made a strange
jingling noise; a fortunate circumstance in itself, which he was far
from reckoning upon. The noise disturbed the lady; she seemed to fancy
she was being either followed or pursued, which was indeed the case, and
turned round. DArtagnan started as if he had received a charge of small
shot in his legs, and then turning suddenly round, as if he were going
back the same way he had come, he murmured, "Madame de Chevreuse!"
DArtagnan would not go home until he had learned everything. He asked
Celestin to inquire of the grave-digger whose body it was they had
buried that morning.
[Illustration: DARTAGNAN, RECLINING UPON AN IMMENSE STRAIGHT-BACKED
CHAIR, WITH HIS LEGS NOT STRETCHED OUT, BUT SIMPLY PLACED UPON A STOOL,
FORMED AN ANGLE OF THE MOST OBTUSE FORM THAT COULD POSSIBLY BE
SEEN.--_Page 88._]
"A poor Franciscan mendicant friar," replied the latter, "who had not
even a dog to love him in this world and to accompany him to his last
resting-place."
"If that were really the case," thought DArtagnan, "we should not have
found Aramis present at his funeral. The bishop of Vannes is not
precisely a dog as far as devotion goes; his scent, however, is quite as
keen, I admit."
CHAPTER XIV.
HOW PORTHOS, TRÜCHEN, AND PLANCHET PARTED WITH EACH OTHER ON FRIENDLY
TERMS, THANKS TO DARTAGNAN.
There was good living in Planchets house. Porthos broke a ladder and
two cherry-trees, stripped the raspberry-bushes, and was only unable to
succeed in reaching the strawberry-beds on account, as he said, of his
belt. Trüchen, who had got quite sociable with the giant, said that it
was not the belt so much as his corporation; and Porthos, in a state of
the highest delight, embraced Trüchen, who gathered him a handful of the
strawberries, and made him eat them out of her hand. DArtagnan, who
arrived in the midst of these little innocent flirtations, scolded
Porthos for his indolence, and silently pitied Planchet. Porthos
breakfasted with a very good appetite, and when he had finished, he
said, looking at Trüchen, "I could make myself very happy here." Trüchen
smiled at his remark, and so did Planchet, but the latter not without
some embarrassment.
DArtagnan then addressed Porthos--"You must not let the delights of
Capua make you forget the real object of our journey to Fontainebleau."
"My presentation to the king?"
"Certainly. I am
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