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Books
The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 50 at Prostate Health
were following. A
man carrying a long switch with a nail at the end of it,
with which he urged on his slow team, was walking with the
cart.
"Ho! friend," cried Planchet.
"Whats your pleasure, gentlemen?" replied the peasant, with
a purity of accent peculiar to the people of that district
and which might have put to shame the cultured denizens of
the Sorbonne and the Rue de lUniversite.
"We are looking for the house of Monsieur de la Fere," said
DArtagnan.
The peasant took off his hat on hearing this revered name.
"Gentlemen," he said, "the wood that I am carting is his; I
cut it in his copse and I am taking it to the chateau."
DArtagnan determined not to question this man; he did not
wish to hear from another what he had himself said to
Planchet.
"The chateau!" he said to himself, "what chateau? Ah, I
understand! Athos is not a man to be thwarted; he, like
Porthos, has obliged his peasantry to call him `my lord,
and to dignify his pettifogging place by the name of
chateau. He had a heavy hand -- dear old Athos -- after
drinking."
DArtagnan, after asking the man the right way, continued
his route, agitated in spite of himself at the idea of
seeing once more that singular man whom he had so truly
loved and who had contributed so much by advice and example
to his education as a gentleman. He checked by degrees the
speed of his horse and went on, his head drooping as if in
deep thought.
Soon, as the road turned, the Chateau de la Valliere
appeared in view; then, a quarter of a mile beyond, a white
house, encircled in sycamores, was visible at the farther
end of a group of trees, which spring had powdered with a
snow of flowers.
On beholding this house, DArtagnan, calm as he was in
general, felt an unusual disturbance within his heart -- so
powerful during the whole course of life are the
recollections of youth. He proceeded, nevertheless, and came
opposite to an iron gate, ornamented in the taste of the
period.
Through the gate was seen kitchen-gardens, carefully
attended to, a spacious courtyard, in which neighed several
horses held by valets in various liveries, and a carriage,
drawn by two horses of the country.
"We are mistaken," said DArtagnan. "This cannot be the
establishment of Athos. Good heavens! suppose he is dead and
that this property now belongs to some one who bears his
name. Alight, Planchet, and inquire, for I confess that I
have scarcely courage so to do."
Planchet alighted.
"Thou must add," said DArtagnan, "that a gentleman who is
passing by wishes to have the honor of paying his respects
to the Comte de la Fere, and if thou art satisfied with what
thou hearest, then mention my name!"
Planchet, leading his horse by the bridle, drew near to the
gate and rang the bell, and immediately a servant-man with
white hair and of erect stature, notwithstanding his age,
presented himself.
"Does Monsieur le Comte de la Fere live here?" asked
Planchet.
"Yes, monsieur, it is here he lives," the servant replied to
Planchet, who was not in livery.
"A nobleman retired from service, is he not?"
"Yes."
"And who had a lackey named Grimaud?" persisted Planchet,
who had prudently considered that he couldnt have too much
information.
"Monsieur Grimaud is absent from the chateau for the time
being," said the servitor, who, little used as he was to
such inquiries, began to examine Planchet from head to foot.
"Then," cried Planchet joyously, "I see well that it is the
same Comte de la Fere whom we seek. Be good enough to open
to me, for I wish to announce to monsieur le comte that my
master, one of his friends, is here, and wishes to greet
him."
"Why didnt you say so?" said the servitor, opening the
gate. "But where is your master?"
"He is following me."
The servitor opened the gate and walked before Planchet, who
made a sign to DArtagnan. The latter, his heart palpitating
more than ever, entered the courtyard without dismounting.
Whilst Planchet was standing on the steps before the house
he heard a voice say:
"Well, where is this gentleman and why do they not bring him
here?"
This voice, the sound of which reached DArtagnan,
reawakened in his heart a thousand sentiments, a thousand
recollections that he had forgotten. He vaulted hastily from
his horse, whilst Planchet, with a smile on his lips,
advanced toward the master of the house.
"But I know you, my lad," said Athos, appearing on the
threshold.
"Oh, yes, monsieur le comte, you know me and I know you. I
am Planchet
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