Les trois mousquetaires. English

  63 THE DROP OF WATER

  Rochefort had scarcely departed when Mme. Bonacieux re-entered. Shefound Milady with a smiling countenance.

  "Well," said the young woman, "what you dreaded has happened. Thisevening, or tomorrow, the cardinal will send someone to take you away."

  "Who told you that, my dear?" asked Milady.

  "I heard it from the mouth of the messenger himself."

  "Come and sit down close to me," said Milady.

  "Here I am."

  "Wait till I assure myself that nobody hears us."

  "Why all these precautions?"

  "You shall know."

  Milady arose, went to the door, opened it, looked in the corridor, andthen returned and seated herself close to Mme. Bonacieux.

  "Then," said she, "he has well played his part."

  "Who has?"

  "He who just now presented himself to the abbess as a messenger from thecardinal."

  "It was, then, a part he was playing?"

  "Yes, my child."

  "That man, then, was not--"

  "That man," said Milady, lowering her voice, "is my brother."

  "Your brother!" cried Mme. Bonacieux.

  "No one must know this secret, my dear, but yourself. If you reveal itto anyone in the world, I shall be lost, and perhaps yourself likewise."

  "Oh, my God!"

  "Listen. This is what has happened: My brother, who was coming to myassistance to take me away by force if it were necessary, met with theemissary of the cardinal, who was coming in search of me. He followedhim. At a solitary and retired part of the road he drew his sword, andrequired the messenger to deliver up to him the papers of which he wasthe bearer. The messenger resisted; my brother killed him."

  "Oh!" said Mme. Bonacieux, shuddering.

  "Remember, that was the only means. Then my brother determined tosubstitute cunning for force. He took the papers, and presented himselfhere as the emissary of the cardinal, and in an hour or two a carriagewill come to take me away by the orders of his Eminence."

  "I understand. It is your brother who sends this carriage."

  "Exactly; but that is not all. That letter you have received, and whichyou believe to be from Madame de Chevreuse--"

  "Well?"

  "It is a forgery."

  "How can that be?"

  "Yes, a forgery; it is a snare to prevent your making any resistancewhen they come to fetch you."

  "But it is d'Artagnan that will come."

  "Do not deceive yourself. D'Artagnan and his friends are detained at thesiege of La Rochelle."

  "How do you know that?"

  "My brother met some emissaries of the cardinal in the uniform ofMusketeers. You would have been summoned to the gate; you would havebelieved yourself about to meet friends; you would have been abducted,and conducted back to Paris."

  "Oh, my God! My senses fail me amid such a chaos of iniquities. I feel,if this continues," said Mme. Bonacieux, raising her hands to herforehead, "I shall go mad!"

  "Stop--"

  "What?"

  "I hear a horse's steps; it is my brother setting off again. I shouldlike to offer him a last salute. Come!"

  Milady opened the window, and made a sign to Mme. Bonacieux to join her.The young woman complied.

  Rochefort passed at a gallop.

  "Adieu, brother!" cried Milady.

  The chevalier raised his head, saw the two young women, and withoutstopping, waved his hand in a friendly way to Milady.

  "The good George!" said she, closing the window with an expression ofcountenance full of affection and melancholy. And she resumed her seat,as if plunged in reflections entirely personal.

  "Dear lady," said Mme. Bonacieux, "pardon me for interrupting you; butwhat do you advise me to do? Good heaven! You have more experience thanI have. Speak; I will listen."

  "In the first place," said Milady, "it is possible I may be deceived,and that d'Artagnan and his friends may really come to your assistance."

  "Oh, that would be too much!" cried Mme. Bonacieux, "so much happinessis not in store for me!"

  "Then you comprehend it would be only a question of time, a sort ofrace, which should arrive first. If your friends are the more speedy,you are to be saved; if the satellites of the cardinal, you are lost."

  "Oh, yes, yes; lost beyond redemption! What, then, to do? What to do?"

  "There would be a very simple means, very natural--"

  "Tell me what!"

  "To wait, concealed in the neighborhood, and assure yourself who are themen who come to ask for you."

  "But where can I wait?"

  "Oh, there is no difficulty in that. I shall stop and conceal myself afew leagues hence until my brother can rejoin me. Well, I take you withme; we conceal ourselves, and wait together."

  "But I shall not be allowed to go; I am almost a prisoner."

  "As they believe that I go in consequence of an order from the cardinal,no one will believe you anxious to follow me."

  "Well?"

  "Well! The carriage is at the door; you bid me adieu; you mount the stepto embrace me a last time; my brother's servant, who comes to fetch me,is told how to proceed; he makes a sign to the postillion, and we setoff at a gallop."

  "But d'Artagnan! D'Artagnan! if he comes?"

  "Shall we not know it?"

  "How?"

  "Nothing easier. We will send my brother's servant back to Bethune,whom, as I told you, we can trust. He shall assume a disguise, and placehimself in front of the convent. If the emissaries of the cardinalarrive, he will take no notice; if it is Monsieur d'Artagnan and hisfriends, he will bring them to us."

  "He knows them, then?"

  "Doubtless. Has he not seen Monsieur d'Artagnan at my house?"

  "Oh, yes, yes; you are right. Thus all may go well--all may be for thebest; but we do not go far from this place?"

  "Seven or eight leagues at the most. We will keep on the frontiers, forinstance; and at the first alarm we can leave France."

  "And what can we do there?"

  "Wait."

  "But if they come?"

  "My brother's carriage will be here first."

  "If I should happen to be any distance from you when the carriage comesfor you--at dinner or supper, for instance?"

  "Do one thing."

  "What is that?"

  "Tell your good superior that in order that we may be as much togetheras possible, you ask her permission to share my repast."

  "Will she permit it?"

  "What inconvenience can it be?"

  "Oh, delightful! In this way we shall not be separated for an instant."

  "Well, go down to her, then, to make your request. I feel my head alittle confused; I will take a turn in the garden."

  "Go; and where shall I find you?"

  "Here, in an hour."

  "Here, in an hour. Oh, you are so kind, and I am so grateful!"

  "How can I avoid interesting myself for one who is so beautiful and soamiable? Are you not the beloved of one of my best friends?"

  "Dear d'Artagnan! Oh, how he will thank you!"

  "I hope so. Now, then, all is agreed; let us go down."

  "You are going into the garden?"

  "Yes."

  "Go along this corridor, down a little staircase, and you are in it."

  "Excellent; thank you!"

  And the two women parted, exchanging charming smiles.

  Milady had told the truth--her head was confused, for her ill-arrangedplans clashed one another like chaos. She required to be alone that shemight put her thoughts a little into order. She saw vaguely the future;but she stood in need of a little silence and quiet to give all herideas, as yet confused, a distinct form and a regular plan.

  What was most pressing was to get Mme. Bonacieux away, and convey her toa place of safety, and there, if matters required, make her a hostage.Milady began to have doubts of the issue of this terrible duel, in whichher enemies showed as much perseverance as she did animosity.

/>   Besides, she felt as we feel when a storm is coming on--that this issuewas near, and could not fail to be terrible.

  The principal thing for her, then, was, as we have said, to keep Mme.Bonacieux in her power. Mme. Bonacieux was the very life of d'Artagnan.This was more than his life, the life of the woman he loved; this was,in case of ill fortune, a means of temporizing and obtaining goodconditions.

  Now, this point was settled; Mme. Bonacieux, without any suspicion,accompanied her. Once concealed with her at Armentieres, it would beeasy to make her believe that d'Artagnan had not come to Bethune. Infifteen days at most, Rochefort would be back; besides, during thatfifteen days she would have time to think how she could best avengeherself on the four friends. She would not be weary, thank God! for sheshould enjoy the sweetest pastime such events could accord a woman ofher character--perfecting a beautiful vengeance.

  Revolving all this in her mind, she cast her eyes around her, andarranged the topography of the garden in her head. Milady was like agood general who contemplates at the same time victory and defeat, andwho is quite prepared, according to the chances of the battle, to marchforward or to beat a retreat.

  At the end of an hour she heard a soft voice calling her; it was Mme.Bonacieux's. The good abbess had naturally consented to her request; andas a commencement, they were to sup together.

  On reaching the courtyard, they heard the noise of a carriage whichstopped at the gate.

  Milady listened.

  "Do you hear anything?" said she.

  "Yes, the rolling of a carriage."

  "It is the one my brother sends for us."

  "Oh, my God!"

  "Come, come! courage!"

  The bell of the convent gate was sounded; Milady was not mistaken.

  "Go to your chamber," said she to Mme. Bonacieux; "you have perhaps somejewels you would like to take."

  "I have his letters," said she.

  "Well, go and fetch them, and come to my apartment. We will snatch somesupper; we shall perhaps travel part of the night, and must keep ourstrength up."

  "Great God!" said Mme. Bonacieux, placing her hand upon her bosom, "myheart beats so I cannot walk."

  "Courage, courage! remember that in a quarter of an hour you will besafe; and think that what you are about to do is for HIS sake."

  "Yes, yes, everything for him. You have restored my courage by a singleword; go, I will rejoin you."

  Milady ran up to her apartment quickly; she there found Rochefort'slackey, and gave him his instructions.

  He was to wait at the gate; if by chance the Musketeers should appear,the carriage was to set off as fast as possible, pass around theconvent, and go and wait for Milady at a little village which wassituated at the other side of the wood. In this case Milady would crossthe garden and gain the village on foot. As we have already said, Miladywas admirably acquainted with this part of France.

  If the Musketeers did not appear, things were to go on as had beenagreed; Mme. Bonacieux was to get into the carriage as if to bid heradieu, and she was to take away Mme. Bonacieux.

  Mme. Bonacieux came in; and to remove all suspicion, if she had any,Milady repeated to the lackey, before her, the latter part of herinstructions.

  Milady asked some questions about the carriage. It was a chaise drawn bythree horses, driven by a postillion; Rochefort's lackey would precedeit, as courier.

  Milady was wrong in fearing that Mme. Bonacieux would have anysuspicion. The poor young woman was too pure to suppose that any femalecould be guilty of such perfidy; besides, the name of the Comtesse deWinter, which she had heard the abbess pronounce, was wholly unknown toher, and she was even ignorant that a woman had had so great and sofatal a share in the misfortune of her life.

  "You see," said she, when the lackey had gone out, "everything is ready.The abbess suspects nothing, and believes that I am taken by order ofthe cardinal. This man goes to give his last orders; take the leastthing, drink a finger of wine, and let us be gone."

  "Yes," said Mme. Bonacieux, mechanically, "yes, let us be gone."

  Milady made her a sign to sit down opposite, poured her a small glass ofSpanish wine, and helped her to the wing of a chicken.

  "See," said she, "if everything does not second us! Here is night comingon; by daybreak we shall have reached our retreat, and nobody can guesswhere we are. Come, courage! take something."

  Mme. Bonacieux ate a few mouthfuls mechanically, and just touched theglass with her lips.

  "Come, come!" said Milady, lifting hers to her mouth, "do as I do."

  But at the moment the glass touched her lips, her hand remainedsuspended; she heard something on the road which sounded like therattling of a distant gallop. Then it grew nearer, and it seemed to her,almost at the same time, that she heard the neighing of horses.

  This noise acted upon her joy like the storm which awakens the sleeperin the midst of a happy dream; she grew pale and ran to the window,while Mme. Bonacieux, rising all in a tremble, supported herself uponher chair to avoid falling. Nothing was yet to be seen, only they heardthe galloping draw nearer.

  "Oh, my God!" said Mme. Bonacieux, "what is that noise?"

  "That of either our friends or our enemies," said Milady, with herterrible coolness. "Stay where you are, I will tell you."

  Mme. Bonacieux remained standing, mute, motionless, and pale as astatue.

  The noise became louder; the horses could not be more than a hundred andfifty paces distant. If they were not yet to be seen, it was because theroad made an elbow. The noise became so distinct that the horses mightbe counted by the rattle of their hoofs.

  Milady gazed with all the power of her attention; it was just lightenough for her to see who was coming.

  All at once, at the turning of the road she saw the glitter of lacedhats and the waving of feathers; she counted two, then five, then eighthorsemen. One of them preceded the rest by double the length of hishorse.

  Milady uttered a stifled groan. In the first horseman she recognizedd'Artagnan.

  "Oh, my God, my God," cried Mme. Bonacieux, "what is it?"

  "It is the uniform of the cardinal's Guards. Not an instant to be lost!Fly, fly!"

  "Yes, yes, let us fly!" repeated Mme. Bonacieux, but without being ableto make a step, glued as she was to the spot by terror.

  They heard the horsemen pass under the windows.

  "Come, then, come, then!" cried Milady, trying to drag the young womanalong by the arm. "Thanks to the garden, we yet can flee; I have thekey, but make haste! in five minutes it will be too late!"

  Mme. Bonacieux tried to walk, made two steps, and sank upon her knees.Milady tried to raise and carry her, but could not do it.

  At this moment they heard the rolling of the carriage, which at theapproach of the Musketeers set off at a gallop. Then three or four shotswere fired.

  "For the last time, will you come?" cried Milady.

  "Oh, my God, my God! you see my strength fails me; you see plainly Icannot walk. Flee alone!"

  "Flee alone, and leave you here? No, no, never!" cried Milady.

  All at once she paused, a livid flash darted from her eyes; she ran tothe table, emptied into Mme. Bonacieux's glass the contents of a ringwhich she opened with singular quickness. It was a grain of a reddishcolor, which dissolved immediately.

  Then, taking the glass with a firm hand, she said, "Drink. This winewill give you strength, drink!" And she put the glass to the lips of theyoung woman, who drank mechanically.

  "This is not the way that I wished to avenge myself," said Milady,replacing the glass upon the table, with an infernal smile, "but, myfaith! we do what we can!" And she rushed out of the room.

  Mme. Bonacieux saw her go without being able to follow her; she was likepeople who dream they are pursued, and who in vain try to walk.

  A few moments passed; a great noise was heard at the gate. Every instantMme. Bonacieux expected to see Milady, but she did not return. Severaltimes, with terror, no doubt, the cold sweat burst from her burning
brow.

  At length she heard the grating of the hinges of the opening gates; thenoise of boots and spurs resounded on the stairs. There was a greatmurmur of voices which continued to draw near, amid which she seemed tohear her own name pronounced.

  All at once she uttered a loud cry of joy, and darted toward the door;she had recognized the voice of d'Artagnan.

  "d'Artagnan! D'Artagnan!" cried she, "is it you? This way! this way!"

  "Constance? Constance?" replied the young man, "where are you? where areyou? My God!"

  At the same moment the door of the cell yielded to a shock, rather thanopened; several men rushed into the chamber. Mme. Bonacieux had sunkinto an armchair, without the power of moving.

  D'Artagnan threw down a yet-smoking pistol which he held in his hand,and fell on his knees before his mistress. Athos replaced his in hisbelt; Porthos and Aramis, who held their drawn swords in their hands,returned them to their scabbards.

  "Oh, d'Artagnan, my beloved d'Artagnan! You have come, then, at last!You have not deceived me! It is indeed thee!"

  "Yes, yes, Constance. Reunited!"

  "Oh, it was in vain she told me you would not come! I hoped in silence.I was not willing to fly. Oh, I have done well! How happy I am!"

  At this word SHE, Athos, who had seated himself quietly, started up.

  "SHE! What she?" asked d'Artagnan.

  "Why, my companion. She who out of friendship for me wished to take mefrom my persecutors. She who, mistaking you for the cardinal's Guards,has just fled away."

  "Your companion!" cried d'Artagnan, becoming more pale than the whiteveil of his mistress. "Of what companion are you speaking, dearConstance?"

  "Of her whose carriage was at the gate; of a woman who calls herselfyour friend; of a woman to whom you have told everything."

  "Her name, her name!" cried d'Artagnan. "My God, can you not rememberher name?"

  "Yes, it was pronounced in my hearing once. Stop--but--it is verystrange--oh, my God, my head swims! I cannot see!"

  "Help, help, my friends! her hands are icy cold," cried d'Artagnan. "Sheis ill! Great God, she is losing her senses!"

  While Porthos was calling for help with all the power of his strongvoice, Aramis ran to the table to get a glass of water; but he stoppedat seeing the horrible alteration that had taken place in thecountenance of Athos, who, standing before the table, his hair risingfrom his head, his eyes fixed in stupor, was looking at one of theglasses, and appeared a prey to the most horrible doubt.

  "Oh!" said Athos, "oh, no, it is impossible! God would not permit such acrime!"

  "Water, water!" cried d'Artagnan. "Water!"

  "Oh, poor woman, poor woman!" murmured Athos, in a broken voice.

  Mme. Bonacieux opened her eyes under the kisses of d'Artagnan.

  "She revives!" cried the young man. "Oh, my God, my God, I thank thee!"

  "Madame!" said Athos, "madame, in the name of heaven, whose empty glassis this?"

  "Mine, monsieur," said the young woman, in a dying voice.

  "But who poured the wine for you that was in this glass?"

  "She."

  "But who is SHE?"

  "Oh, I remember!" said Mme. Bonacieux, "the Comtesse de Winter."

  The four friends uttered one and the same cry, but that of Athosdominated all the rest.

  At that moment the countenance of Mme. Bonacieux became livid; a fearfulagony pervaded her frame, and she sank panting into the arms of Porthosand Aramis.

  D'Artagnan seized the hands of Athos with an anguish difficult to bedescribed.

  "And what do you believe?' His voice was stifled by sobs.

  "I believe everything," said Athos, biting his lips till the bloodsprang to avoid sighing.

  "d'Artagnan, d'Artagnan!" cried Mme. Bonacieux, "where art thou? Do notleave me! You see I am dying!"

  D'Artagnan released the hands of Athos which he still held clasped inboth his own, and hastened to her. Her beautiful face was distorted withagony; her glassy eyes had no longer their sight; a convulsiveshuddering shook her whole body; the sweat rolled from her brow.

  "In the name of heaven, run, call! Aramis! Porthos! Call for help!"

  "Useless!" said Athos, "useless! For the poison which SHE pours there isno antidote."

  "Yes, yes! Help, help!" murmured Mme. Bonacieux; "help!"

  Then, collecting all her strength, she took the head of the young manbetween her hands, looked at him for an instant as if her whole soulpassed into that look, and with a sobbing cry pressed her lips to his.

  "Constance, Constance!" cried d'Artagnan.

  A sigh escaped from the mouth of Mme. Bonacieux, and dwelt for aninstant on the lips of d'Artagnan. That sigh was the soul, so chaste andso loving, which reascended to heaven.

  D'Artagnan pressed nothing but a corpse in his arms. The young manuttered a cry, and fell by the side of his mistress as pale and as icyas herself.

  Porthos wept; Aramis pointed toward heaven; Athos made the sign of thecross.

  At that moment a man appeared in the doorway, almost as pale as those inthe chamber. He looked around him and saw Mme. Bonacieux dead, andd'Artagnan in a swoon. He appeared just at that moment of stupor whichfollows great catastrophes.

  "I was not deceived," said he; "here is Monsieur d'Artagnan; and you arehis friends, Messieurs Athos, Porthos, and Aramis."

  The persons whose names were thus pronounced looked at the stranger withastonishment. It seemed to all three that they knew him.

  "Gentlemen," resumed the newcomer, "you are, as I am, in search of awoman who," added he, with a terrible smile, "must have passed this way,for I see a corpse."

  The three friends remained mute--for although the voice as well as thecountenance reminded them of someone they had seen, they could notremember under what circumstances.

  "Gentlemen," continued the stranger, "since you do not recognize a manwho probably owes his life to you twice, I must name myself. I am Lordde Winter, brother-in-law of THAT WOMAN."

  The three friends uttered a cry of surprise.

  Athos rose, and offering him his hand, "Be welcome, my Lord," said he,"you are one of us."

  "I set out five hours after her from Portsmouth," said Lord de Winter."I arrived three hours after her at Boulogne. I missed her by twentyminutes at St. Omer. Finally, at Lilliers I lost all trace of her. I wasgoing about at random, inquiring of everybody, when I saw you galloppast. I recognized Monsieur d'Artagnan. I called to you, but you did notanswer me; I wished to follow you, but my horse was too much fatigued togo at the same pace with yours. And yet it appears, in spite of all yourdiligence, you have arrived too late."

  "You see!" said Athos, pointing to Mme. Bonacieux dead, and tod'Artagnan, whom Porthos and Aramis were trying to recall to life.

  "Are they both dead?" asked Lord de Winter, sternly.

  "No," replied Athos, "fortunately Monsieur d'Artagnan has only fainted."

  "Ah, indeed, so much the better!" said Lord de Winter.

  At that moment d'Artagnan opened his eyes. He tore himself from the armsof Porthos and Aramis, and threw himself like a madman on the corpse ofhis mistress.

  Athos rose, walked toward his friend with a slow and solemn step,embraced him tenderly, and as he burst into violent sobs, he said to himwith his noble and persuasive voice, "Friend, be a man! Women weep forthe dead; men avenge them!"

  "Oh, yes!" cried d'Artagnan, "yes! If it be to avenge her, I am ready tofollow you."

  Athos profited by this moment of strength which the hope of vengeancerestored to his unfortunate friend to make a sign to Porthos and Aramisto go and fetch the superior.

  The two friends met her in the corridor, greatly troubled and much upsetby such strange events; she called some of the nuns, who against allmonastic custom found themselves in the presence of five men.

  "Madame," said Athos, passing his arm under that of d'Artagnan, "weabandon to your pious care the body of that unfortunate woman. She wasan angel on earth before being an angel in heaven. Treat
her as one ofyour sisters. We will return someday to pray over her grave."

  D'Artagnan concealed his face in the bosom of Athos, and sobbed aloud.

  "Weep," said Athos, "weep, heart full of love, youth, and life! Alas,would I could weep like you!"

  And he drew away his friend, as affectionate as a father, as consolingas a priest, noble as a man who has suffered much.

  All five, followed by their lackeys leading their horses, took their wayto the town of Bethune, whose outskirts they perceived, and stoppedbefore the first inn they came to.

  "But," said d'Artagnan, "shall we not pursue that woman?"

  "Later," said Athos. "I have measures to take."

  "She will escape us," replied the young man; "she will escape us, and itwill be your fault, Athos."

  "I will be accountable for her," said Athos.

  D'Artagnan had so much confidence in the word of his friend that helowered his head, and entered the inn without reply.

  Porthos and Aramis regarded each other, not understanding this assuranceof Athos.

  Lord de Winter believed he spoke in this manner to soothe the grief ofd'Artagnan.

  "Now, gentlemen," said Athos, when he had ascertained there were fivechambers free in the hotel, "let everyone retire to his own apartment.d'Artagnan needs to be alone, to weep and to sleep. I take charge ofeverything; be easy."

  "It appears, however," said Lord de Winter, "if there are any measuresto take against the countess, it concerns me; she is my sister-in-law."

  "And me," said Athos, "--she is my wife!"

  D'Artagnan smiled--for he understood that Athos was sure of hisvengeance when he revealed such a secret. Porthos and Aramis looked ateach other, and grew pale. Lord de Winter thought Athos was mad.

  "Now, retire to your chambers," said Athos, "and leave me to act. Youmust perceive that in my quality of a husband this concerns me. Only,d'Artagnan, if you have not lost it, give me the paper which fell fromthat man's hat, upon which is written the name of the village of--"

  "Ah," said d'Artagnan, "I comprehend! that name written in her hand."

  "You see, then," said Athos, "there is a god in heaven still!"