to hear; and finding time, between the parries, to point with his sword to the ground at his feet—
“Here,” said he, “will Biscarrat die, the sole survivor of those that were with him.”
“But they are four—four against one!” cried Jussac; “yield, I command you!”
“Ah, if you command me, it is another thing,” said Biscarrat; “you are my commander, and I must obey.”
And suddenly springing backwards, he broke his sword across his knee, in order that he might not give it up, threw the pieces over the wall of the convent; and then, crossing his arms, he whistled a cardinalist air.
Bravery is always respected, even in an enemy. The musketeers saluted Biscarrat with their swords, and returned them to their scabbards. D’Artagnan did the same; and then, assisted by Biscarrat, the only one who remained on his legs, he carried Jussac, Cahusac, and that one of the adversaries of Aramis who was only wounded, under the porch of the convent. The fourth, as we have said, was dead. They then rang the bell, and confiscating four out of the five swords, they set off, intoxicated with joy, towards M. de Treville’s hotel. They proceeded arm in arm, occupying the whole breadth of the street; and as they detained every musketeer they met, the march soon became like a triumphal procession. D’Artagnan’s heart was in a delirium of exultation, as he marched between Athos and Porthos.
“If I am not yet a musketeer,” said he to his new friends, whilst passing the threshold of M. de Treville’s hotel, “I am at least next door to one. Is it not so?”
CHAPTER 6 His Majesty King Louis the Thirteenth
The affair made a great noise. M. de Treville strongly censured his musketeers in public; but privately they heard only his congratulations. As, however, it was essential that no time should be lost in gaining the king, M. de Treville hastened to the Louvre. But he was too late; the king was closeted with the cardinal, and M. de Treville was informed that his majesty was engaged, and could not then see any one. In the evening, M. de Treville returned. The king was at play, and was winning; and his majesty, being very covetous, was in an excellent humour. Therefore, as soon as he saw M. de Treville, he exclaimed—
“Come here, my captain, that I may chide you. Are you aware that his eminence came to complain to me of your musketeers, and with so much emotion as to be indisposed? Well, really, these musketeers of yours are perfect devils—thorough hang-dogs!”
“No, sire,” replied M. de Treville, who at the first glance saw the turn the affair was likely to take. “No, on the contrary, they are good creatures, gentle as lambs, and who, I am confident, have only one wish, that their swords should never leave their scabbards except in time of war. But what are they to do? the guards of the cardinal are continually seeking opportunities of quarrelling with them; and, for the honour of the regiment, the poor young men are obliged to defend themselves.”
“Hark ye, M. de Treville,” said the king; “hark ye! Is this a religious fraternity—these men of yours—that you are speaking of? Truly, my dear captain, I am half inclined to deprive you of your command, and bestow it upon Mademoiselle de Chemerault, to whom I have promised an abbey. Do not suppose, however, that I give implicit credence to this simple story of yours. I am called Louis the Just, M. de Treville; and soon, very soon, we shall see—”
“And it is because I confide in that justice, sire, that I shall calmly and patiently await your majesty’s good pleasure.”
“Wait then, sir, wait then,” said the king, “and it will not be long.”
In fact, at that moment the chances of the game turned against the king, who began to lose what he had before gained. Therefore he was not sorry to find an excuse (to use an expression of the gaming table, of which we confess we know not the origin) for making Charlemagne. The king therefore rose, and putting into his pocket the money which was before him, and most of which he had won—
“La Vieuville,” said he, “take my place. I must talk with M. de Treville on an affair of importance. Ah! I had eighty louis before me: lay down the same sum, that those who have lost may not want their revenge. Justice above all things!”
Then turning towards M. de Treville, and walking with him towards a recess in one of the windows—
“Well, sir,” continued he, “you affirm that it is the guards of his eminence who seek quarrels with your musketeers?”
“Yes, sire; invariably.”
“Well, and how did this affair happen? Relate the facts; for you know, my dear captain, a judge must hear both parties.”
“Oh! by my faith, in the most simple and natural manner: three of my best soldiers, whom your majesty knows by name, and whose services you have often appreciated, and who, I can assure your majesty, are wholly devoted to your service—three of my best soldiers, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, had made a party of pleasure with a young Gascon, a volunteer, whom I had introduced to them the same morning. The party was to be held at St. Germain’s, I believe; and the rendezvous was fixed at Carmes-Deschaux, when it was interrupted by de Jussac, Cahusac, Biscarrat, and two other musketeers of the cardinal who doubtless did not assemble there in such force without some intention in opposition to the edicts.”
“Ah! you give me ground for a conjecture,” said the king; “doubtless they came there to have an affair of honour.”
“I do not accuse them, sire, but I leave your majesty to judge what five armed men could be doing in a spot so retired as is the neighbourhood of the convent.”
“Very true, Treville; yes, you are right.”
“But, when they saw my musketeers, they changed their intentions, and forgot their individual and personal hatred, to indulge their enmity towards our corps; for your majesty well knows that the musketeers, who are wholly for the king, and nothing but the king, are the natural enemies of the guards, who are for the cardinal alone.”
“Yes, Treville,” said the king sorrowfully; “and it is a sad thing, believe me, thus to see two parties in France—two royal heads, as it were, under one crown. But this must be brought to an end. You say, then, that the guards sought a difference with the musketeers?”
“I say it is probable that this was the case, but I do not swear to it, sire. Your majesty well knows how difficult it is to discover the truth, unless, indeed, one were gifted with that admirable penetration which has caused Louis XIII. to be named the Just.”
“There again you are right, Treville. But your musketeers were not alone; there was a boy with them.”
“Yes, sire, and a wounded man; so that three of the king’s musketeers, of whom one was wounded, and this boy, not only made head against five of the most formidable of the cardinal’s guards, but even bore four of them to the earth.”
“Why, it is a complete victory!” exclaimed the king, radiant with joy—“a most complete victory!”
“Yes, sire, as complete as that of the bridge of Ce.”
“Four men—of whom one was wounded, and another a boy—do you say?”
“A stripling; but who behaved so nobly on this occasion, that I shall take the liberty of recommending him to your majesty.”
“What
