it is you, it is you,” said she. “God be thanked!”
“Yes, it is I,” said d’Artagnan, “whom God has sent to guard you.”
“And was it with this intent that you followed me,” asked the young woman, with a smile full of coquetry; for all her fears had vanished, and her love of badinage had resumed its ascendancy, on the instant that she recognised a friend in him whom she had dreaded as a foe.
“No,” replied d’Artagnan. “No, I confess that it is chance which put me on your track. I saw a woman knocking at the window of one of my friends.”
“Of one of your friends!” interrupted Madame Bonancieux.
“Yes, certainly! Aramis is one of my intimates.”
“Aramis! who is he?”
“Come, now, do you pretend to tell me that you do not know Aramis?”
“It is the first time that I ever heard his name.”
“Then it is the first time that you have visited this house?”
“Yes, indeed!”
“And you did not know that a young man occupied it?”
“No.”
“A musketeer?”
“By no means.”
“Then it was not him that you came to look for?”
“Most assuredly not! Besides, you must have plainly seen that the person whom I talked to was a woman.”
“That is true; but then this woman is one of Aramis’s friends!”
“I know nothing about that.”
“Why, she lodges at his house.”
“That is not my affair.”
“But who is she?”
“Oh! that is not my secret.”
“My dear Madame Bonancieux, you are very charming, but you are at the same time the most mysterious creature.”
“Is that to my loss?”
“No; on the contrary, it lends you enchantment!”
“As that is the case, give me your arm.”
“With great pleasure; what now?”
“Now take care of me.”
“Where to?”
“Where I am going.”
“But where may that be?”
“You will see, since you will leave me at the door.”
“May I wait for you there?”
“That would be useless.”
“Then you will return alone?”
“Possibly.”
“But the person who will accompany you afterwards—will it be a man or a woman?”
“I do not know yet.”
“But I will find out.”
“And how so?”
“I will wait to see you come out.”
“In that case, adieu!”
“But, why?”
“I do not want you!”
“But you claimed my protection.”
“I claimed the assistance of a gentleman, and not the vigilance of a spy.”
“You are severe.”
“How would you call those who follow people who don’t want them?”
“Indiscreet!”
“The term is too mild!”
“Come, madame, I see that one must obey you.”
“Why deprive yourself of the merit of doing so at once?”
“Is there none in my repentance?”
“But do you sincerely repent?”
“I don’t know that myself. But I do know that I promise to do just what you wish, if you will let me accompany you where you are going.”
“And you will leave me afterwards?”
“Yes.”
“Without awaiting my exit?”
“Certainly.”
“On your word of honour?”
“On the word of a gentleman!”
“Then take my arm, and let us get on.”
D’Artagnan offered his arm, which Madame Bonancieux, half laughing and half trembling, accepted, and they reached the top of the Rue de la Harpe; but the young woman appeared to hesitate there, as she had hesitated before at the Rue Vaugirard. Nevertheless, by certain marks, she appeared to recognise a door, which she approached.
“Now, sir,” said she, “it is here that my business calls me. I return you a thousand thanks for your good company, which has saved me from all the dangers to which I should have been exposed alone; but the time is now come for you to keep your word. You must leave me here.”
“And will you be exposed to no danger in returning?”
“I shall only have to fear robbers.”
“Is that nothing?”
“What could they take from me? I have not a farthing in my possession!”
“You forget that beautiful embroidered handkerchief, with the arms on it.”
“Which?”
“That which I found at your feet, and replaced in your pocket.”
“Silence! Silence! you imprudent man! Would you ruin me?”
“You see now that there is still some danger, since one word makes you tremble, and you confess that if this word was heard you would be ruined. Come now, madame,” continued d’Artagnan, seizing her hand, “be more generous; put some confidence in me; have you not read in my eyes that my heart is full of sympathy and devotion?”
“Yes,”
