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The Three Musketeers
Twenty Years Later
The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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Twenty Years Later 70 at Prostate Health
you fool?"
"I ---I mind them no more than that ---- " and he snapped
his fingers; "but it is my Lord Giulio who cares about them;
as an Italian he is superstitious."
The duke shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, then," with well acted good-humor, "I allow Grimaud,
but no one else; you must manage it all. Order whatever you
like for supper -- the only thing I specify is one of those
pies; and tell the confectioner that I will promise him my
custom if he excels this time in his pies -- not only now,
but when I leave my prison."
"Then you think you will some day leave it?" said La Ramee.
"The devil!" replied the prince; "surely, at the death of
Mazarin. I am fifteen years younger than he is. At
Vincennes, tis true, one lives faster ---- "
"My lord," replied La Ramee, "my lord ---- "
"Or dies sooner, for it comes to the same thing."
La Ramee was going out. He stopped, however, at the door for
an instant.
"Whom does your highness wish me to send to you?"
"Any one, except Grimaud."
"The officer of the guard, then, with his chessboard?"
"Yes."
Five minutes afterward the officer entered and the duke
seemed to be immersed in the sublime combinations of chess.
A strange thing is the mind, and it is wonderful what
revolutions may be wrought in it by a sign, a word, a hope.
The duke had been five years in prison, and now to him,
looking back upon them, those five years, which had passed
so slowly, seemed not so long a time as were the two days,
the forty-eight hours, which still parted him from the time
fixed for his escape. Besides, there was one thing that
engaged his most anxious thought -- in what way was the
escape to be effected? They had told him to hope for it, but
had not told him what was to be hidden in the mysterious
pate. And what friends awaited him without? He had friends,
then, after five years in prison? If that were so he was
indeed a highly favored prince. He forgot that besides his
friends of his own sex, a woman, strange to say, had
remembered him. It is true that she had not, perhaps, been
scrupulously faithful to him, but she had remembered him;
that was something.
So the duke had more than enough to think about; accordingly
he fared at chess as he had fared at tennis; he made blunder
upon blunder and the officer with whom he played found him
easy game.
But his successive defeats did service to the duke in one
way -- they killed time for him till eight oclock in the
evening; then would come night, and with night, sleep. So,
at least, the duke believed; but sleep is a capricious
fairy, and it is precisely when one invokes her presence
that she is most likely to keep him waiting. The duke waited
until midnight, turning on his mattress like St. Laurence on
his gridiron. Finally he slept.
But at daybreak he awoke. Wild dreams had disturbed his
repose. He dreamed that he was endowed with wings -- he
wished to fly away. For a time these wings supported him,
but when he reached a certain height this new aid failed
him. His wings were broken and he seemed to sink into a
bottomless abyss, whence he awoke, bathed in perspiration
and nearly as much overcome as if he had really fallen. He
fell asleep again and another vision appeared. He was in a
subterranean passage by which he was to leave Vincennes.
Grimaud was walking before him with a lantern. By degrees
the passage narrowed, yet the duke continued his course. At
last it became so narrow that the fugitive tried in vain to
proceed. The sides of the walls seem to close in, even to
press against him. He made fruitless efforts to go on; it
was impossible. Nevertheless, he still saw Grimaud with his
lantern in front, advancing. He wished to call out to him
but could not utter a word. Then at the other extremity he
heard the footsteps of those who were pursuing him. These
steps came on, came fast. He was discovered; all hope of
flight was gone. Still the walls seemed to be closing on
him; they appeared to be in concert with his enemies. At
last he heard the voice of La Ramee. La Ramee took his hand
and laughed aloud. He was captured again, and conducted to
the low and vaulted chamber, in which Ornano, Puylaurens,
and his uncle had died.
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