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The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 57 at Prostate Health
say exactly," answered the Gascon, confused.
"Come, DArtagnan, dont let us play a sidelong game; your
hesitation, your evasion, tells me at once on whose side you
are; for that party no one dares openly to recruit, and when
people recruit for it, it is with averted eyes and humble
voice."
"Ah! my dear Athos!"
"You know that I am not alluding to you; you are the pearl
of brave, bold men. I speak of that spiteful and intriguing
Italian -- of the pedant who has tried to put on his own
head a crown which he stole from under a pillow -- of the
scoundrel who calls his party the party of the king -- who
wants to send the princes of the blood to prison, not daring
to kill them, as our great cardinal -- our cardinal did --
of the miser, who weighs his gold pieces and keeps the
clipped ones for fear, though he is rich, of losing them at
play next morning -- of the impudent fellow who insults the
queen, as they say -- so much the worse for her -- and who
is going in three months to make war upon us, in order that
he may retain his pensions; is that the master whom you
propose to me? I thank you, DArtagnan."
"You are more impetuous than you were," returned DArtagnan.
"Age has warmed, not chilled your blood. Who informed you
this was the master I propose to you? Devil take it," he
muttered to himself, "dont let me betray my secrets to a
man not inclined to entertain them."
"Well, then," said Athos, "what are your schemes? what do
you propose?"
"Zounds! nothing more than natural. You live on your estate,
happy in golden mediocrity. Porthos has, perhaps, sixty
thousand francs income. Aramis has always fifty duchesses
quarreling over the priest, as they quarreled formerly over
the musketeer; but I -- what have I in the world? I have
worn my cuirass these twenty years, kept down in this
inferior rank, without going forward or backward, hardly
half living. In fact, I am dead. Well! when there is some
idea of being resuscitated, you say hes a scoundrel, an
impudent fellow, a miser, a bad master! By Jove! I am of
your opinion, but find me a better one or give me the means
of living."
Athos was for a few moments thoughtful.
"Good! DArtagnan is for Mazarin," he said to himself.
From that moment he grew very guarded.
On his side DArtagnan became more cautious also.
"You spoke to me," Athos resumed, "of Porthos; have you
persuaded him to seek his fortune? But he has wealth, I
believe, already."
"Doubtless he has. But such is man, we always want something
more than we already have."
"What does Porthos wish for?"
"To be a baron."
"Ah, true! I forgot," said Athos, laughing.
"Tis true!" thought the Gascon, "where has he heard it?
Does he correspond with Aramis? Ah! if I knew that he did I
should know all."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Raoul.
"Is our little neighbor worse?" asked DArtagnan, seeing a
look of vexation on the face of the youth.
"Ah, sir!" replied Raoul, "her fall is a very serious one,
and without any ostensible injury, the physician fears she
will be lame for life."
"This is terrible," said Athos.
"And what makes me all the more wretched, sir, is, that I
was the cause of this misfortune."
"How so?" asked Athos.
"It was to run to meet me that she leaped from that pile of
wood."
"Theres only one remedy, dear Raoul -- that is, to marry
her as a compensation." remarked DArtagnan.
"Ah, sir!" answered Raoul, "you joke about a real
misfortune; that is cruel, indeed."
The good understanding between the two friends was not in
the least altered by the mornings skirmish. They
breakfasted with a good appetite, looking now and then at
poor Raoul, who with moist eyes and a full heart, scarcely
ate at all.
After breakfast two letters arrived for Athos, who read them
with profound attention, whilst DArtagnan could not
restrain himself from jumping up several times on seeing him
read these epistles, in one of which, there being at the
time a very strong light, he perceived the fine writing of
Aramis. The other was in a feminine hand, long, and crossed.
"Come," said DArtagnan to Raoul, seeing that Athos wished
to be alone, "come, let us take a turn in the fencing
gallery; that will amuse you."
And they both went into a low room where there were foils,
gloves, masks, breastplates, and all the accessories for a
fencing match.
In a quarter of an
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