The Man in the Iron Mask

  Chapter XLV. The Ancestors of Porthos.

  When D'Artagnan left Aramis and Porthos, the latter returned to theprincipal fort, in order to converse with greater liberty. Porthos,still thoughtful, was a restraint on 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 hear it."

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

  "Yes, I did notice that."

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

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

  "Thine is a right, a generous heart," said Aramis, "only your melancholyuneasiness affects 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, settingout one day for the chase, he felt his legs weak, the man who had neverknown what weakness was before."

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

  "Nothing good, as you will see; for having set out, complaining still ofweakness of the legs, he met a wild boar, which made head against him;he missed him with his arquebuse, and was ripped up by the beast anddied immediately."

  "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 this lassitude, and said to my mother, who laughed at him,'Would not one believe I was going to meet with a wild boar, as the lateM. du Vallon, 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 in which an ironhinge was fixed. The hinge gashed his temple; and he was stretched outdead upon 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 legs known to fail? Never haveyou stood so firm, so haughtily; 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 this frightens me, but it annoys me.Life is an agreeable thing. I have money; I have fine estates; I havehorses that I love; I have also friends that I love: D'Artagnan, Athos,Raoul, and you."

  The admirable Porthos did not even take the trouble to dissimulate inthe very presence of Aramis the rank he gave him in his friendship.Aramis pressed his hand: "We will still live many years," said he, "topreserve to the world such specimens of its rarest men. Trust yourselfto me, my friend; we have no reply from D'Artagnan, that is a good sign.He must have given orders to get the vessels together and clear theseas. On my part I have just issued directions that a bark should berolled on rollers to the mouth of the great cavern of Locmaria, whichyou know, where we have so often lain in wait for the foxes."

  "Yes, and which terminates at the little creek by a trench where 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 we will go to sea!"

  "That is a grand idea. What shall we gain by it?"

  "We shall gain this--nobody knows that grotto, or rather its issue,except ourselves and two or three hunters of the island; we shall gainthis--that if the island is occupied, the scouts, seeing no bark uponthe shore, will never imagine we can escape, and will cease to watch."

  "I understand."

  "Well! that weakness in the legs?"

  "Oh! better, much, just now."

  "You see, then, plainly, that everything conspires to give us quietudeand hope. D'Artagnan will sweep the sea and leave us free. No royalfleet or descent to be dreaded. _Vive Dieu!_ Porthos, we have stillhalf a century of magnificent adventure before us, and if I once touchSpanish ground, I swear to you," added the bishop with terrible energy,"that your brevet of duke is not such a chance as it is said to be."

  "We live by hope," said Porthos, enlivened by the warmth of hiscompanion.

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

  This cry, repeated by a hundred throats, piercing the chamber where thetwo friends were conversing, carried surprise to 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 towardsthe mole to place themselves within the shelter of the batteries. Boats,laden with soldiers, were seen approaching; and in three directions, forthe 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 later, the cannonade commenced. These were the shots thatD'Artagnan had heard as he landed in France. But the boats were toonear the 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 didcharge with such vigor, and so thoroughly animated their men, that theroyalists re-embarked 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, and 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, "did you not calumniate your legs?"

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