The Vicomte de Bragelonne

  CHAPTER CXIX.

  THE ANCESTORS OF PORTHOS.

  When D'Artagnan had quitted Aramis and Porthos, the latter returned tothe principal fort to converse with the greater liberty. Porthos, stillthoughtful, was a constraint upon Aramis, whose mind had never feltitself more free.

  "Dear Porthos," said he, suddenly, "I will explain D'Artagnan's idea toyou."

  "What idea, Aramis?"

  "An idea to which we shall owe our liberty within twelve hours."

  "Ah! indeed!" said Porthos, much astonished. "Let us see it."

  "Did you remark, in the scene our friend had with the officer, thatcertain orders restrained him with regard to us?"

  "Yes; I did remark that."

  "Well! D'Artagnan is going to give in his resignation to the king, andduring the confusion which will result from his absence, we will getaway, or rather you will get away, Porthos, if there is a possibility offlight only for one."

  Here Porthos shook his head and replied: "We will escape together,Aramis, or we will remain here together."

  "You are a generous heart," said Aramis, "only your melancholyuneasiness afflicts me."

  "I am not uneasy," said Porthos.

  "Then you are angry with me."

  "I am not angry with you."

  "Then why, my friend, do you put on such a dismal countenance?"

  "I will tell you: I am making my will." And while saying these words,the good Porthos looked sadly in the face of Aramis.

  "Your will!" cried the bishop. "What then! do you think yourself lost?"

  "I feel fatigued. It is the first time, and there is a custom in ourfamily."

  "What is it, my friend?"

  "My grandfather was a man twice as strong as I am."

  "Indeed!" said Aramis: "then your grandfather must have been Samsonhimself."

  "No; his name was Antoine. Well! he was about my age, when setting outone day for the chase, he felt his legs weak, he who had never knownthis before."

  "What was the meaning of that fatigue, my friend?"

  "Nothing good, as you will see: for having set out, complaining still ofthe weakness of his legs, he met a wild boar, which made head againsthim; he missed him with his arquebuse, and was ripped up by the beast,and died directly."

  "There is no reason in that why you should alarm yourself, dearPorthos."

  "Oh! you will see. My father was as strong again as I am. He was a roughsoldier under Henry III. and Henry IV.; his name was not Antoine, butGaspard, the same as M. de Coligny. Always on horseback, he had neverknown what lassitude was. One evening, as he rose from table, his legsfailed him."

  "He had supped heartily, perhaps," said Aramis, "and that was why hestaggered."

  "Bah! A friend of M. de Bassompierre, nonsense! No, no, he wasastonished at feeling this lassitude, and said to my mother, who laughedat him, 'Would not one believe I was going to meet with a wild boar, asthe late M. de Valon, my father, did?

  "Well?" said Aramis.

  "Well! having this weakness, my father insisted upon going down into thegarden, instead of going to bed; his foot slipped on the first stair:the staircase was steep: my father fell against a stone angle in whichan iron hinge was fixed. The hinge opened his temple; and he lay deadupon the spot."

  Aramis raised his eyes to his friend: "These are two extraordinarycircumstances," said he; "let us not infer that there may succeed athird. It is not becoming in a man of your strength to be superstitious,my brave Porthos. Besides, when were your leg's seen to fail? Never haveyou been so firm, so superb: why, you could carry a house on yourshoulders."

  "At this moment," said Porthos, "I feel myself pretty active; but attimes I vacillate, I sink; and lately this phenomenon, as you say, hasoccurred four times. I will not say that this frightens me, but itannoys me. Life is an agreeable thing. I have money; I have fineestates; I have horses that I love; I have also friends I love:D'Artagnan, Athos, Raoul and you."

  The admirable Porthos did not even take the trouble to dissimulate toAramis the rank he gave him in his friendship. Aramis pressed his hand:"We will still live many years," said he, "to preserve in the worldspecimens of rare men. Trust yourself to me, my friend; we have no replyfrom D'Artagnan, that is a good sign. He must have given orders to getthe vessels together and clear the seas. On my part, I have just issueddirections that a bark should be rolled upon rollers to the mouth of thegreat cavern of Locmaria, which you know, where we have so often laidwait for the foxes."

  "Yes, and which terminates at the little creek by a trench which wediscovered the day that splendid fox escaped that way."

  "Precisely. In case of misfortunes, a bark is to be concealed for us inthat cavern; indeed, it must be there by this time. We will wait for afavorable moment, and, during the night, to sea!"

  "That is a good idea; what shall we gain by it?"

  "We shall gain by it--that nobody knows that grotto, or rather itsissue, except ourselves and two or three hunters of the island; we shallgain by it--that if the island is occupied, the scouts, seeing no barkupon the shore, will never imagine we can escape, and will cease towatch."

  "I understand."

  "Well! the legs?"

  "Oh! excellent, just now."

  "You see then, plainly, that everything conspires to give us quietudeand hope. D'Artagnan will clear the sea and make us free. No more royalfleet or descent to be dreaded. Vive Dieu! Porthos, we have still half acentury of good adventures before us, and if I once touch Spanishground, I swear to you," added the bishop with a terrible energy, "thatyour brevet of duke is not such a chance as it is said to be."

  "We will live in hope," said Porthos, a little enlivened by therenovated warmth of his companion.

  All at once a cry resounded in their ears:--"To arms! to arms!"

  This cry, repeated by a hundred voices, brought, to the chamber wherethe two friends were conversing, surprise to the one, and uneasiness tothe other. Aramis opened the window: he saw a crowd of people runningwith flambeaux. Women were seeking places of safety, the armedpopulation were hastening to their posts.

  "The fleet! the fleet!" cried a soldier, who recognized Aramis.

  "The fleet?" repeated the latter.

  "Within half cannon-shot," continued the soldier.

  "To arms!" cried Aramis.

  "To arms!" repeated Porthos, formidably. And both rushed forth towardthe mole, to place themselves within the shelter of the batteries.Boats, laden with soldiers, were seen approaching; they took threedirections, for the purpose of landing at three points at once.

  "What must be done?" said an officer of the guard.

  "Stop them; and if they persist, fire!" said Aramis.

  Five minutes after, the cannonade commenced. These were the shots thatD'Artagnan had heard as he landed in France. But the boats were too nearthe mole to allow the cannon to aim correctly. They landed, and thecombat commenced hand to hand.

  "What's the matter, Porthos?" said Aramis to his friend.

  "Nothing! nothing!--only my legs; it is really incomprehensible!--theywill be better when we charge." In fact, Porthos and Aramis did chargewith such vigor; they so thoroughly animated their men, that theroyalists reembarked precipitately, without gaining anything but thewounds they carried away.

  "Eh! but, Porthos," cried Aramis, "we must have a prisoner, quick!quick!" Porthos bent over the stair of the mole, and seized by the napeof the neck one of the officers of the royal army who was waiting toembark till all his people should be in the boat. The arm of the giantlifted up his prey, which served him as a buckler, as he recoveredhimself, without a shot being fired at him.

  "Here is a prisoner for you," said Porthos coolly to Aramis.

  "Well!" cried the latter, laughing, "have you not calumniated yourlegs?"

  "It was not with my legs I took him," said Porthos, "it was with myarms!"