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Books
The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 4 at Prostate Health
rushed into a house.
They broke open the doors and searched the dwelling, but in
vain. Comminges, wounded by a stone which had struck him on
the forehead, had left a picket in the street and returned
to the Palais Royal, followed by a menacing crowd, to tell
his story.
This account confirmed that of the mayor. The authorities
were not in a condition to cope with serious revolt. Mazarin
endeavored to circulate among the people a report that
troops had only been stationed on the quays and on the Pont
Neuf, on account of the ceremonial of the day, and that they
would soon withdraw. In fact, about four oclock they were
all concentrated about the Palais Royal, the courts and
ground floors of which were filled with musketeers and Swiss
guards, and there awaited the outcome of all this
disturbance.
Such was the state of affairs at the very moment we
introduced our readers to the study of Cardinal Mazarin --
once that of Cardinal Richelieu. We have seen in what state
of mind he listened to the murmurs from below, which even
reached him in his seclusion, and to the guns, the firing of
which resounded through that room. All at once he raised his
head; his brow slightly contracted like that of a man who
has formed a resolution; he fixed his eyes upon an enormous
clock that was about to strike ten, and taking up a whistle
of silver gilt that stood upon the table near him, he
shrilled it twice.
A door hidden in the tapestry opened noiselessly and a man
in black silently advanced and stood behind the chair on
which Mazarin sat.
"Bernouin," said the cardinal, not turning round, for having
whistled, he knew that it was his valet-de-chambre who was
behind him; "what musketeers are now within the palace?"
"The Black Musketeers, my lord."
"What company?"
"Trevilles company."
"Is there any officer belonging to this company in the
ante-chamber?"
"Lieutenant dArtagnan."
"A man on whom we can depend, I hope."
"Yes, my lord."
"Give me a uniform of one of these musketeers and help me to
put it on."
The valet went out as silently as he had entered and
appeared in a few minutes bringing the dress demanded.
The cardinal, in deep thought and in silence, began to take
off the robes of state he had assumed in order to be present
at the sitting of parliament, and to attire himself in the
military coat, which he wore with a certain degree of easy
grace, owing to his former campaigns in Italy. When he was
completely dressed he said:
"Send hither Monsieur dArtagnan."
The valet went out of the room, this time by the centre
door, but still as silently as before; one might have
fancied him an apparition.
When he was left alone the cardinal looked at himself in the
glass with a feeling of self-satisfaction. Still young --
for he was scarcely forty-six years of age -- he possessed
great elegance of form and was above the middle height; his
complexion was brilliant and beautiful; his glance full of
expression; his nose, though large, was well proportioned;
his forehead broad and majestic; his hair, of a chestnut
color, was curled slightly; his beard, which was darker than
his hair, was turned carefully with a curling iron, a
practice that greatly improved it. After a short time the
cardinal arranged his shoulder belt, then looked with great
complacency at his hands, which were most elegant and of
which he took the greatest care; and throwing on one side
the large kid gloves tried on at first, as belonging to the
uniform, he put on others of silk only. At this instant the
door opened.
"Monsieur dArtagnan," said the valet-de-chambre.
An officer, as he spoke, entered the apartment. He was a man
between thirty-nine and forty years of age, of medium height
but a very well proportioned figure; with an intellectual
and animated physiognomy; his beard black, and his hair
turning gray, as often happens when people have found life
either too gay or too sad, more especially when they happen
to be of swart complexion.
DArtagnan advanced a few steps into the apartment.
How perfectly he remembered his former entrance into that
very room! Seeing, however, no one there except a musketeer
of his own troop, he fixed his eyes upon the supposed
soldier, in whose dress, nevertheless, he recognized at the
first glance the cardinal.
The lieutenant remained standing in a dignified but
respectful posture, such as became a man of good birth, who
had in the course of his life been frequently in the society
of the highest nobles.
The cardinal looked at him with a
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