ntionally, I said 'Excuse me.'  It appears to me that this is
quite enough.  I repeat to you, however, and this time on my word
of honor--I think perhaps too often--that I am in haste, great
haste.  Leave your hold, then, I beg of you, and let me go where
my business calls me."

"Monsieur," said Athos, letting him go, "you are not polite; it
is easy to perceive that you come from a distance."

D'Artagnan had already strode down three or four stairs, but at
Athos's last remark he stopped short.

"MORBLEU, monsieur!" said he, "however far I may come, it is not
you who can give me a lesson in good manners, I warn you."

"Perhaps," said Athos.

"Ah!  If I were not in such haste, and if I were not running
after someone," said D'Artagnan.

"Monsieur Man-in-a-hurry, you can find me without running--ME,
you understand?"

"And where, I pray you?"

"Near the Carmes-Deschaux."

"At what hour?"

"About noon."

"About noon?  That will do; I will be there."

"Endeavor not to make me wait; for at quarter past twelve I will
cut off your ears as you run."

"Good!" cried D'Artagnan, "I will be there ten minutes before
twelve."  And he set off running as if the devil possessed him,
hoping that he might yet find the stranger, whose slow pace could
not have carried him far.

But at the street gate, Porthos was talking with the soldier on
guard.  Between the two talkers there was just enough room for a
man to pass.  D'Artagnan thought it would suffice for him, and he
sprang forward like a dart between them.  But D'Artagnan had
reckoned without the wind.  As he was about to pass, the wind
blew out Porthos's long cloak, and D'Artagnan rushed straight
into the middle of it.  Without doubt, Porthos had reasons for
not abandoning this part of his vestments, for instead of
quitting his hold on the flap in his hand, he pulled it toward
him, so that D'Artagnan rolled himself up in the velvet by a
movement of rotation explained by the persistency of Porthos.

D'Artagnan, hearing the Musketeer swear, wished to escape from
the cloak, which blinded him, and sought to find his way from
under the folds of it.  He was particularly anxious to avoid
marring the freshness of the magnificent baldric we are
acquainted with; but on timidly opening his eyes, he found
himself with his nose fixed between the two shoulders of
Porthos--that is to say, exactly upon the baldric.

Alas, like most things in this world which have nothing in their
favor but appearances, the baldric was glittering with gold in
the front, but was nothing but simple buff behind.  Vainglorious
as he was, Porthos could not afford to have a baldric wholly of
gold, but had at least half.  One could comprehend the necessity
of the cold and the urgency of the cloak.

"Bless me!" cried Porthos, making strong efforts to disembarrass
himself of D'Artagnan, who was wriggling about his back; "you
must be mad to run against people in this manner."

"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan, reappearing under the shoulder of
the giant, "but I am in such haste--I was running after someone
and--"

"And do you always forget your eyes when you run?" asked Porthos.

"No," replied D'Artagnan, piqued, "and thanks to my eyes, I can
see what other people cannot see."

Whether Porthos understood him or did not understand him, giving
way to his anger, "Monsieur," said he, "you stand a chance of
getting chastised if you rub Musketeers in this fashion."

"Chastised, Monsieur!" said D'Artagnan, "the expression is
strong."

"It is one that becomes a man accustomed to look his enemies in
the face."

"Ah, PARDIEU!  I know full well that you don't turn your back to
yours."

And the young man, delighted with his joke, went away laughing
loudly.

Porthos foamed with rage, and made a movement to rush after
D'Artagnan.

"Presently, presently," cried the latter, "when you haven't your
cloak on."

"At one o'clock, then, behind the Luxembourg."

"Very well, at one o'clock, then," replied D'Artagnan, turning
the angle of the street.

But neither in the street he had passed through, nor in the one
which his eager glance pervaded, could he see anyone; however
slowly the stranger had walked, he was gone on his way, or
perhaps had entered some house.  D'Artagnan inquired of everyone
he met with, went down to the ferry, came up again by the Rue de
Seine, and the Red Cross; but nothing, absolutely nothing!  This
chase was, however, advantageous to him in one sense, for in
proportion as the perspiration broke from his forehead, his heart
began to cool.

He began to reflect upon the events that had passed; they were
numerous and inauspicious.  It was scarcely eleven o'clock in the
morning, and yet this morning had already brought him into
disgrace with M. de Treville, who could not fail to think the
manner in which D'Artagnan had left him a little cavalier.

Besides this, he had drawn upon himself two good duels with two
men, each capable of killing three D'Artagnans-with two
Musketeers, in short, with two of those beings whom he esteemed
so greatly that he placed them in his mind and heart above all
other men.

The outlook was sad.  Sure of being killed by Athos, it may
easily be understood that the young man was not very uneasy about
Porthos.  As hope, however, is the last thing extinguished in the
heart of man, he finished by hoping that he might survive, even
though with terrible wounds, in both these duels; and in case of
surviving, he made the following reprehensions upon his own
conduct:

"What a madcap I was, and what a stupid fellow I am!  That brave
and unfortunate Athos was wounded on that very shoulder against
which I must run head foremost, like a ram.  The only thing that
astonishes me is that he did not strike me dead at once.  He had
good cause to do so; the pain I gave him must have been
atrocious.  As to Porthos--oh, as to Porthos, faith, that's a
droll affair!"

And in spite of himself, the young man began to laugh aloud,
looking round carefully, however, to see that his solitary laugh,
without a cause in the eyes of passers-by, offended no one.

"As to Porthos, that is certainly droll; but I am not the less a
giddy fool.  Are people to be run against without warning?  No!
And have I any right to go and peep under their cloaks to see
what is not there?  He would have pardoned me, he would certainly
have pardoned me, if I had not said anything to him about that
cursed baldric--in ambiguous words, it is true, but rather drolly
ambiguous.  Ah, cursed Gascon that I am, I get from one hobble
into another.  Friend D'Artagnan," continued he, speaking to
himself with all the amenity that he thought due himself, "if you
escape, of which there is not much chance, I would advise you to
practice perfect politeness for the future.  You must henceforth
be admired and quoted as a model of it.  To be obliging and
polite does not necessarily make a man a coward.  Look at Aramis,
now; Aramis is mildness and grace personified.  Well, did anybody
ever dream of calling Aramis a coward?  No, certainly not, and
from this moment I will endeavor to model myself after him.  Ah!
That's strange!  Here he is!"

D'Artagnan, walking and soliloquizing, had arrived within a few
steps of the hotel d'Arguillon and in front of that hotel
perceived Aramis, chatting gaily with three gentlemen; but as he
had not forgotten that it was in presence of this young man that
M. de Treville had been so angry in the morning, and as a witness
of the rebuke the Musketeers had received was not likely to be at
all agreeable, he pretended not to see him.  D'Artagnan, on the
contrary, quite full of his plans of conciliation and courtesy,
approached the young men with a profound bow, accompanied by a
most gracious smile.  All four, besides, immediately broke off
their conversation.

D'Artagnan was not so dull as not to perceive that he was one too
many; but he was not sufficiently broken into the fashions of the
gay world to know how to extricate himself gallantly from a false
position, like that of a man who begins to mingle with people he
is scarcely acquainted with and in a conversation that does not
concern him.  He was seeking in his mind, then, for the least
awkward means of retreat, when he remarked that Aramis had let
his handkerchief fall, and by mistake, no doubt, had placed his
foot upon it.  This appeared to be a favorable opportunity to
repair his intrusion.  He stooped, and with the most gracious air
he could assume, drew the handkerchief from under the foot of the
Musketeer in spite of the efforts the latter made to detain it,
and holding it out to him, said, "I believe, monsieur, that this
is a handkerchief you would be sorry to lose?"

The handkerchief was indeed richly embroidered, and had a coronet
and arms at one of its corners.  Aramis blushed excessively, and
snatched rather than took the handkerchief from the hand of the
Gascon.

"Ah, ah!" cried one of the Guards, "will you persist in saying,
most discreet Aramis, that you are not on good terms with Madame
de Bois-Tracy, when that gracious lady has the kindness to lend
you one of her handkerchiefs?"

Aramis darted at D'Artagnan one of those looks which inform a man
that he has acquired a mortal enemy.  Then, resuming his mild
air, "You are deceived, gentlemen," said he, "this handkerchief
is not mine, and I cannot fancy why Monsieur has taken it into
his head to offer it to me rather than to one of you; and as a
proof of what I say, here is mine in my pocket."

So saying, he pulled out his own handkerchief, likewise a very
elegant handkerchief, and of fine cambric--though cambric was
dear at the period--but a handkerchief without embroidery and
without arms, only ornamented with a single cipher, that of its
proprietor.

This time D'Artagnan was not hasty.  He perceived his mistake;
but the friends of Aramis were not at all convinced by his
denial, and one of them addressed the young Musketeer with
affected seriousness.  "If it were as you pretend it is," said
he, "I should be forced, my dear Aramis, to reclaim it myself;
for, as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is an intimate friend of
mine, and I cannot allow the property of his wife to be sported
as a trophy."

"You make the demand badly," replied Aramis; "and while
acknowledging the justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on
account of the form."

"The fact is," hazarded D'Artagnan, timidly, "I did not see the
handkerchief fall from the pocket of Monsieur Aramis.  He had his
foot upon it, that is all; and I thought from having his foot
upon it the handkerchief was his."

"And you were deceived, my dear sir," replied Aramis, coldly,
very little sensible to the reparation.  Then turning toward that
one of the guards who had declared himself the friend of Bois-
Tracy, "Besides," continued he, "I have reflected, my dear
intimate of Bois-Tracy, that I am not less tenderly his friend
than you can possibly be; so that decidedly this handkerchief is
as likely to have fallen from your pocket as mine."

"No, upon my honor!" cried his Majesty's Guardsman.

"You are about to swear upon your honor and I upon my word, and
then it will be pretty evident that one of us will have lied.
Now, here, Montaran, we will do better than that--let each take a
half."

"Of the handkerchief?"

"Yes."

"Perfectly just," cried the other two Guardsmen, "the judgment of
King Solomon!  Aramis, you certainly are full of wisdom!"

The young men burst into a laugh, and as may be supposed, the
affair had no other sequel.  In a moment or two the conversation
ceased, and the three Guardsmen and the Musketeer, after having
cordially shaken hands, separated, the Guardsmen going one way
and Aramis another.

"Now is my time to make peace with this gallant man," said
D'Artagnan to himself, having stood on one side during the whole
of the latter part of the conversation; and with this good
feeling drawing near to Aramis, who was departing without paying
any attention to him, "Monsieur," said he, "you will excuse me, I
hope."

"Ah, monsieur," interrupted Aramis, "permit me to observe to you
that you have not acted in this affair as a gallant man ought."

"What, monsieur!" cried D'Artagnan, "and do you suppose--"

"I suppose, monsieur that you are not a fool, and that you knew
very well, although coming from Gascony, that people do not tread
upon handkerchiefs without a reason.  What the devil!  Paris is
not paved with cambric!"

"Monsieur, you act wrongly in endeavoring to mortify me," said
D'Artagnan, in whom the natural quarrelsome spirit began to speak
more loudly than his pacific resolutions.  "I am from Gascony, it
is true; and since you know it, there is no occasion to tell you
that Gascons are not very patient, so that when they have begged
to be excused once, were it even for a folly, they are convinced
that they have done already at least as much again as they ought
to have done."

"Monsieur, what I say to you about the matter," said Aramis, "is
not for the sake of seeking a quarrel.  Thank God, I am not a
bravo!  And being a Musketeer but for a time, I only fight when I
am forced to do so, and always with great repugnance; but this
time the affair is serious, for here is a lady compromised by
you."

"By US, you mean!" cried D'Artagnan.

"Why did you so maladroitly restore me the handkerchief?"

"Why did you so awkwardly let it fall?"

"I have said, monsieur, and I repeat, that the handkerchief did
not fall from my pocket."

"And thereby you have lied twice, monsieur, for I saw it fall."

"Ah, you take it with that tone, do you, Master Gascon?  Well, I
will teach you how to behave yourself."

"And I will send you back to your Mass book, Master Abbe.  Draw,
if you please, and instantly--"

"Not so, if you please, my good friend--not here, at least.  Do
you not perceive that we are opposite the Hotel d'Arguillon,
which is full of the cardinal's creatures?  How do I know that
this is not his Eminence who has honored you with the commission
to procure my head?  Now, I entertain a ridiculous partiality for
my head, it seems to suit my shoulders so correctly.  I wish to
kill you, be at rest as to that, but to kill you quietly in a
snug, remote place, where you will not be able to boast of your
death to anybody."

"I agree, monsieur; but do not be too confident.  Take your
handkerchief; whether it belongs to you or another, you may
perhaps stand in need of it."

"Monsieur is a Gascon?" asked Aramis.

"Yes.  Monsieur does not postpone an interview through prudence?"

"Prudence, monsieur, is a virtue sufficiently useless to
Musketeers, I know, but indispensable to churchmen; and as I am
only a Musketeer provisionally, I hold it good to be prudent.  At
two o'clock I shall have the honor of expecting you at the hotel
of Monsieur de Treville.  There I will indicate to you the best
place and time."

The two young men bowed and separated, Aramis ascending the
street which led to the Luxembourg, while D'Artagnan, perceiving
the appointed hour was approaching, took the road to the
Carmes-Deschaux, saying to himself, "Decidedly I can't draw back;
but at least, if I am killed, I shall be killed by a Musketeer."



5  THE KING'S MUSKETEERS AND THE CARDINAL'S GUARDS

D'Artagnan was acquainted with nobody in Paris.  He went
therefore to his appointment with Athos without a second,
determined to be satisfied with those his adversary should
choose.  Besides, his intention was formed to make the brave
Musketeer all suitable apologies, but without meanness or
weakness, fearing that might result from this duel which
generally results from an affair of this kind, when a young and
vigorous man fights with an adversary who is wounded and
weakened--if conquered, he doubles the triumph of his antagonist;
if a conqueror, he is accused of foul play and want of courage.

Now, we must have badly painted the character of our adventure
seeker, or our readers must have already perceived that
D'Artagnan was not an ordinary man; therefore, while repeating to
himself that his death was inevitable, he did not make up his
mind to die quietly, as one less courageous and less restrained
might have done in his place.  He reflected upon the different
characters of men he had to fight with, and began to view his
situation more clearly.  He hoped, by means of loyal excuses, to
make a friend of Athos, whose lordly air and austere bearing
pleased him much.  He flattered himself he should be able to
frighten Porthos with the adventure of the baldric, which he
might, if not killed upon the spot, relate to everybody a recital
which, well managed, would cover Porthos with ridicule.  As to
the astute Aramis, he did not entertain much dread of him; and
supposing he should be able to get so far, he determined to
dispatch him in good style or at least, by hitting him in the
face, as Caesar recommended his soldiers do to those of Pompey,
to damage forever the beauty of which he was so proud.

In addition to this, D'Artagnan possessed that invincible stock
of resolution which the counsels of his father had implanted in
his heart: "Endure nothing from anyone but the king, the
cardinal, and Monsieur de Treville."  He flew, then, rather than
walked, toward the convent of the Carmes Dechausses, or rather
Deschaux, as it was called at that period, a sort of building
without a window, surrounded by barren fields--an accessory to
the Preaux-Clercs, and which was generally employed as the place
for the duels of men who had no time to lose.

When D'Artagnan arrived in sight of the bare spot of ground which
extended along the foot of the monastery, Athos had been waiting
about five minutes, and twelve o'clock was striking.  He was,
then, as punctual as the Samaritan woman, and the most rigorous
casuist with regard to duels could have nothing to say.

Athos, who still suffered grievously from his wound, though it
had been dressed anew by M. de Treville's surgeon, was seated on
a post and waiting for his adversary with hat in hand, his
feather even touching the ground.

"Monsieur," said Athos, "I have engaged two of my friends as
seconds; but these two friends are not yet come, at which I am
astonished, as it is not at all their custom."

"I have no seconds on my part, monsieur," said D'Artagnan; "for
having only arrived yesterday in Paris, I as yet know no one but
Monsieur de Treville, to whom I was recommended by my father, who
has the honor to be, in some degree, one of his friends."

Athos reflected for an instant.  "You know no one but Monsieur de
Treville?" he asked.

"Yes, monsieur, I know only him."

"Well, but then," continued Athos, speaking half to himself, "if
I kill you, I shall have the air of a boy-slayer."

"Not too much so," replied D'Artagnan, with a bow that was not
deficient in dignity, "since you do me the honor to draw a sword
with me while suffering from a wound which is very inconvenient."

"Very inconvenient, upon my word; and you hurt me devilishly, I
can tell you.  But I will take the left hand--it is my custom in
such circumstances.  Do not fancy that I do you a favor; I use
either hand easily.  And it will be even a disadvantage to you; a
left-handed man is very troublesome to people who are not
prepared for it.  I regret I did not inform you sooner of this
circumstance."

"You have truly, monsieur," said D'Artagnan, bowing again, "a
courtesy, for which, I assure you, I am very grateful."

"You confuse me," replied Athos, with his gentlemanly air; "let
us talk of something else, if you please.  Ah, s'blood, how you
have hurt me!  My shoulder quite burns."

"If you would permit me--" said D'Artagnan, with timidity.

"What, monsieur?"

"I have a miraculous balsam for wounds--a balsam given to me by
my mother and of which I have made a trial upon myself."

"Well?"

"Well, I am sure that in less than three days this balsam would
cure you; and at the end of three days, when you would be cured--
well, sir, it would still do me a great honor to be your man."

D'Artagnan spoke these words with a simplicity that did honor to
his courtesy, without throwing the least doubt upon his courage.

"PARDIEU, monsieur!" said Athos, "that's a proposition that
pleases me; not that I can accept it, but a league off it savors
of the gentleman.  Thus spoke and acted the gallant knights of
the time of Charlemagne, in whom every cavalier ought to seek his
model.  Unfortunately, we do not live in the times of the great
emperor, we live in the times of the cardinal; and three days
hence, however well the secret might be guarded, it would be
known, I say, that we were to fight, and our combat would be
prevented.  I think these fellows will never come."

"If you are in haste, monsieur," said D'Artagnan, with the same
simplicity with which a moment before he had proposed to him to
put off the duel for three days, "and if it be your will to
dispatch me at once, do not inconvenience yourself, I pray you."

"There is another word which pleases me," cried Athos, with a
gracious nod to D'Artagnan.  "That did not come from a man
without a heart.  Monsieur, I love men of your kidney; and I
foresee plainly that if we don't kill each other, I shall
hereafter have much pleasure in your conversation.  We will wait
for these gentlemen, so please you; I have plenty of time, and it
will be more correct.  Ah, here is one of them, I believe."

In fact, at the end of the Rue Vaugirard the gigantic Porthos
appeared.

"What!" cried D'Artagnan, "is your first witness Monsieur
Porthos?"

"Yes, that disturbs you?"

"By no means."

"And here is the second."

D'Artagnan turned in the direction pointed to by Athos, and
perceived Aramis.

"What!" cried he, in an accent of greater astonishment than
before, "your second witness is Monsieur Aramis?"

"Doubtless!  Are you not aware that we are never seen one without
the others, and that we are called among the Musketeers and the
Guards, at court and in the city, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, or
the Three Inseparables?  And yet, as you come from Dax or Pau--"

"From Tarbes," said D'Artagnan.

"It is probable you are ignorant of this little fact," said
Athos.

"My faith!" replied D'Artagnan, "you are well named, gentlemen;
and my adventure, if it should make any noise, will prove at
least that your union is not founded upon contrasts."

In the meantime, Porthos had come up, waved his hand to Athos,
and then turning toward D'Artagnan, stood quite astonished.

Let us say in passing that he had changed his baldric and
relinquished his cloak.

"Ah, ah!" said he, "what does this mean?"

"This is the gentleman I am going to fight with," said Athos,
pointing to D'Artagnan with his hand and saluting him with the
same gesture.

"Why, it is with him I am also going to fight," said Porthos.

"But not before one o'clock," replied D'Artagnan.

"And I also am to fight with this gentleman," said Aramis, coming
in his turn onto the place.

"But not until two o'clock," said D'Artagnan, with the same
calmness.

"But what are you going to fight about, Athos?" asked Aramis.

"Faith! I don't very well know.  He hurt my shoulder.  And you,
Porthos?"

"Faith!  I am going to fight--because I am going to fight,"
answered Porthos, reddening.

Athos, whose keen eye lost nothing, perceived a faintly sly smile
pass over the lips of the young Gascon as he replied, "We had a
short discussion upon dress."

"And you, Aramis?" asked Athos.

"Oh, ours is a theological quarrel," replied Aramis, making a
sign to D'Artagnan to keep secret the cause of their duel.

Athos indeed saw a second smile on the lips of D'Artagnan.

"Indeed?" said Athos.

"Yes; a passage of St. Augustine, upon which we could not agree,"
said the Gascon.

"Decidedly, this is a clever fellow," murmured Athos.

"And now you are assembled, gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, "permit
me to offer you my apologies.

At this word APOLOGIES, a cloud passed over the brow of Athos, a
haughty smile curled the lip of Porthos, and a negative sign was
the reply of Aramis.

"You do not understand me, gentlemen," said D'Artagnan, throwing
up his head, the sharp and bold lines of which were at the moment
gilded by a bright ray of the sun.  "I asked to be excused in
case I should not be able to discharge my debt to all three; for
Monsieur Athos has the right to kill me first, which I must abate
your valor in your own estimation, Monsieur Porthos, and render
yours almost null, Monsieur Aramis.  And now, gentlemen, I
repeat, excuse me, but on that account only, and--on guard!"

At these words, with the most gallant air possible, D'Artagnan
drew his sword.

The blood had mounted to the head of D'Artagnan, and at that
moment he would have drawn his sword against all the Musketeers
in the kingdom as willingly as he now did against Athos, Porthos,
and Aramis.

It was a quarter past midday.  The sun was in its zenith, and the
spot chosen for the scene of the duel was exposed to its full
ardor.

"It is very hot," said Athos, drawing his sword in its turn, "and
yet I cannot take off my doublet; for I just now felt my wound
begin to bleed again, and I should not like to annoy Monsieur
with the sight of blood which he has not drawn from me himself."

"That is true, Monsieur," replied D'Artagnan, "and whether drawn
by myself or another, I assure you I shall always view with
regret the blood of so brave a gentleman.  I will therefore fight
in my doublet, like yourself."

"Come, come, enough of such compliments!" cried Porthos.
"Remember, we are waiting for our turns."

"Speak for yourself when you are inclined to utter such
incongruities," interrupted Aramis.  "For my part, I think what
they say is very well said, and quite worthy of two gentlemen."

"When you please, monsieur," said Athos, putting himself on
guard.

"I waited your orders," said D'Artagnan, crossing swords.

But scarcely had the two rapiers clashed, when a company of the
Guards of his Eminence, commanded by M. de Jussac, turned the
corner of the convent.

"The cardinal's Guards!" cried Aramis and Porthos at the same
time.  "Sheathe your swords, gentlemen, sheathe your swords!"

But it was too late.  The two combatants had been seen in a
position which left no doubt of their intentions.

"Halloo!" cried Jussac, advancing toward them and making a sign
to his men to do so likewise, "halloo, Musketeers?  Fighting
here, are you?  And the edicts?  What is become of them?"

"You are very generous, gentlemen of the Guards," said Athos,
full of rancor, for Jussac was one of the aggressors of the
preceding day.  "If we were to see you fighting, I can assure you
that we would make no effort to prevent you.  Leave us alone,
then, and you will enjoy a little amusement without cost to
yourselves."

"Gentlemen," said Jussac, "it is with great regret that I
pronounce the thing impossible.  Duty before everything.
Sheathe, then, if you please, and follow us."

"Monsieur," said Aramis, parodying Jussac, "it would afford us
great pleasure to obey your polite invitation if it depended upon
ourselves; but unfortunately the thing is impossible--Monsieur de
Treville has forbidden it.  Pass on your way, then; it is the
best thing to do."

This raillery exasperated Jussac.  "We will charge upon you,
then," said he, "if you disobey."

"There are five of them," said Athos, half aloud, "and we are but
three; we shall be beaten again, and must die on the spot, for,
on my part, I declare I will never appear again before the
captain as a conquered man."

Athos, Porthos, and Aramis instantly drew near one another, while
Jussac drew up his soldiers.

This short interval was sufficient to determine D'Artagnan on the
part he was to take.  It was one of those events which decide the
life of a man; it was a choice between the king and the
cardinal--the choice made, it must be persisted in.  To fight,
that was to disobey the law, that was to risk his head, that was
to make at one blow an enemy of a minister more powerful than the
king himself.  All this young man perceived, and yet, to his
praise we speak it, he did not hesitate a second.  Turning
towards Athos and his friends, "Gentlemen," said he, "allow me to
correct your words, if you please.  You said you were but three,
but it appears to me we are four."

"But you are not one of us," said Porthos.

"That's true," replied D'Artagnan; "I have not the uniform, but I
have the spirit.  My heart is that of a Musketeer; I feel it,
monsieur, and that impels me on."

"Withdraw, young man," cried Jussac, who doubtless, by his
gestures and the expression of his countenance, had guessed
D'Artagnan's design.  "You may retire; we consent to that.  Save
your skin; begone quickly."

D'Artagnan did not budge.

"Decidedly, you are a brave fellow," said Athos, pressing the
young man's hand.

"Come, come, choose your part," replied Jussac.

"Well," said Porthos to Aramis, "we must do something."

"Monsieur is full of generosity," said Athos.

But all three reflected upon the youth of D'Artagnan, and dreaded
his inexperience.

"We should only be three, one of whom is wounded, with the
addition of a boy," resumed Athos; "and yet it will not be the
less said we were four men."

"Yes, but to yield!" said Porthos.

"That IS difficult," replied Athos.

D'Artagnan comprehended their irresolution.

"Try me, gentlemen," said he, "and I swear to you by my honor
that I will not go hence if we are conquered."

"What is your name, my brave fellow?" said Athos.

"D'Artagnan, monsieur."

"Well, then, Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan, forward!"
cried Athos.

"Come, gentlemen, have you decided?" cried Jussac for the third
time.

"It is done, gentlemen," said Athos.

"And what is your choice?" asked Jussac.

"We are about to have the honor of charging you," replied Aramis,
lifting his hat with one hand and drawing his sword with the
other.

"Ah! You resist, do you?" cried Jussac.

"S'blood; does that astonish you?"

And the nine combatants rushed upon each other with a fury which
however did not exclude a certain degree of method.

Athos fixed upon a certain Cahusac, a favorite of the cardinal's.
Porthos had Bicarat, and Aramis found himself opposed to two
adversaries.  As to D'Artagnan, he sprang toward Jussac himself.

The heart of the young Gascon beat as if it would burst through
his side--not from fear, God he thanked, he had not the shade of
it, but with emulation; he fought like a furious tiger, turning
ten times round his adversary, and changing his ground and his
guard twenty times.  Jussac was, as was then said, a fine blade,
and had had much practice; nevertheless it required all his skill
to defend himself against an adversary who, active and energetic,
departed every instant from received rules, attacking him on all
sides at once, and yet parrying like a man who had the greatest
respect for his own epidermis.

This contest at length exhausted Jussac's patience.  Furious at
being held in check by one whom he had considered a boy, he
became warm and began to make mistakes.  D'Artagnan, who though
wanting in practice had a sound theory, redoubled his agility.
Jussac, anxious to put an end to this, springing forward, aimed a
terrible thrust at his adversary, but the latter parried it; and
while Jussac was recovering himself, glided like a serpent
beneath his blade, and passed his sword through his body.  Jussac
fell like a dead mass.

D'Artagnan then cast an anxious and rapid glance over the field
of battle.

Aramis had killed one of his adversaries, but the other pressed
him warmly.  Nevertheless, Aramis was in a good situation, and
able to defend himself.

Bicarat and Porthos had just made counterhits.  Porthos had
received a thrust through his arm, and Bicarat one through his
thigh.  But neither of these two wounds was serious, and they
only fought more earnestly.

Athos, wounded anew by Cahusac, became evidently paler, but did
not give way a foot.  He only changed his sword hand, and fought
with his left hand.

According to the laws of dueling at that period, D'Artagnan was
at liberty to assist whom he pleased.  While he was endeavoring
to find out which of his companions stood in greatest need, he
caught a glance from Athos.  The glance was of sublime eloquence.
Athos would have died rather than appeal for help; but he could
look, and with that look ask assistance.  D'Artagnan interpreted
it; with a terrible bound he sprang to the side of Cahusac,
crying, "To me, Monsieur Guardsman; I will slay you!"

Cahusac turned.  It was time; for Athos, whose great courage
alone supported him, sank upon his knee.

"S'blood!" cried he to D'Artagnan, "do not kill him, young man, I
beg of you.  I have an old affair to settle with him when I am
cured and sound again.  Disarm him only--make sure of his sword.
That's it!  Very well done!"

The exclamation was drawn from Athos by seeing the sword of
Cahusac fly twenty paces from him.  D'Artagnan and Cahusac sprang
forward at the same instant, the one to recover, the other to
obtain, the sword; but D'Artagnan, being the more active, reached
it first and placed his foot upon it.

Cahusac immediately ran to the Guardsman whom Aramis had killed,
seized his rapier, and returned toward D'Artagnan; but on his way
he met Athos, who during his relief which D'Artagnan had procured
him had recovered his breath, and who, for fear that D'Artagnan
would kill his enemy, wished to resume the fight.

D'Artagnan perceived that it would be disobliging Athos not to
leave him alone; and in a few minutes Cahusac fell, with a sword
thrust through his throat.

At the same instant Aramis placed his sword point on the breast
of his fallen enemy, and forced him to ask for mercy.

There only then remained Porthos and Bicarat.  Porthos made a
thousand flourishes, asking Bicarat what o'clock it could be, and
offering him his compliments upon his brother's having just
obtained a company in the regiment of Navarre; but, jest as he
might, he gained nothing.  Bicarat was one of those iron men who
never fell dead.

Nevertheless, it was necessary to finish.  The watch might come
up and take all the combatants, wounded or not, royalists or
cardinalists.  Athos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan surrounded Bicarat,
and required him to surrender.  Though alone against all and with
a wound in his thigh, Bicarat wished to hold out; but Jussac, who
had risen upon his elbow, cried out to him to yield.  Bicarat was
a Gascon, as D'Artagnan was; he turned a deaf ear, and contented
himself with laughing, and between two parries finding time to
point to a spot of earth with his sword, "Here," cried he,
parodying a verse of the Bible, "here will Bicarat die; for I
only am left, and they seek my life."

"But there are four against you; leave off, I command you."

"Ah, if you command me, that's another thing," said Bicarat.  "As
you are my commander, it is my duty to obey."  And springing
backward, he broke his sword across his knee to avoid the
necessity of surrendering it, threw the pieces over the convent
wall, and crossed him arms, whistling a cardinalist air.

Bravery is always respected, even in an enemy.  The Musketeers
saluted Bicarat with their swords, and returned them to their
sheaths.  D'Artagnan did the same.  Then, assisted by Bicarat,
the only one left standing, he bore Jussac, Cahusac, and one of
Aramis's adversaries who was only wounded, under the porch of the
convent.  The fourth, as we have said, was dead.  They then rang
the bell, and carrying away four swords out of five, they took
their road, intoxicated with joy, toward the hotel of M. de
Treville.

They walked arm in arm, occupying the whole width of the street
and taking in every Musketeer they met, so that in the end it
became a triumphal march.  The heart of D'Artagnan swam in
delirium; he marched between Athos and Porthos, pressing them
tenderly.

"If I am not yet a Musketeer," said he to his new friends, as he
passed through the gateway of M. de Treville's hotel, "at least I
have entered upon my apprenticeship, haven't I?"



6  HIS MAJESTY KING LOUIS XIII

This affair made a great noise.  M. de Treville scolded his
Musketeers in public, and congratulated them in private; but as
no time was to be lost in gaining the king, M. de Treville
hastened to report himself at the Louvre.  It was already too
late.  The king was closeted with the cardinal, and M. de
Treville was informed that the king was busy and could not
receive him at that moment.  In the evening M. de Treville
attended the king's gaming table.  The king was winning; and as
he was very avaricious, he was in an excellent humor.  Perceiving
M. de Treville at a distance--

"Come here, Monsieur Captain," said he, "come here, that I may
growl at you.  Do you know that his Eminence has been making
fresh complaints against your Musketeers, and that with so much
emotion, that this evening his Eminence is indisposed?  Ah, these
Musketeers of yours are very devils--fellows to be hanged."

"No, sire," replied Treville, who saw at the first glance how
things would go, "on the contrary, they are good creatures, as
meek as lambs, and have but one desire, I'll be their warranty.
And that is that their swords may never leave their scabbards but
in your majesty's service.  But what are they to do?  The Guards
of Monsieur the Cardinal are forever seeking quarrels with them,
and for the honor of the corps even, the poor young men are
obliged to defend themselves."

"Listen to Monsieur de Treville," said the king; "listen to him!
Would not one say he was speaking of a religious community?  In
truth, my dear Captain, I have a great mind to take away your
commission and give it to Mademoiselle de Chemerault, to whom I
promised an abbey.  But don't fancy that I am going to take you
on your bare word.  I am called Louis the Just, Monsieur de
Treville, and by and by, by and by we will see."

"Ah, sire; it is because I confide in that justice that I shall
wait patiently and quietly the good pleasure of your Majesty."


"Wait, then, monsieur, wait," said the king; "I will not detain
you long."

In fact, fortune changed; and as the king began to lose what he
had won, he was not sorry to find an excuse for playing
Charlemagne--if we may use a gaming phrase of whose origin we
confess our ignorance.  The king therefore arose a minute after,
and putting the money which lay before him into his pocket, the
major part of which arose from his winnings, "La Vieuville," said
he, "take my place; I must speak to Monsieur de Treville on an
affair of importance.  Ah, I had eighty louis before me; put down
the same sum, so that they who have lost may have nothing to
complain of.  Justice before everything."

Then turning toward M. de Treville and walking with him toward
the embrasure of a window, "Well, monsieur," continued he, "you
say it is his Eminence's Guards who have sought a quarrel with
your Musketeers?"

"Yes, sire, as they always do."

"And how did the thing happen?  Let us see, for you know, my dear
Captain, a judge must hear both sides."

"Good Lord!  In the most simple and natural manner possible.
Three of my best soldiers, whom your Majesty knows by name, and
whose devotedness you have more than once appreciated, and who
have, I dare affirm to the king, his service much at heart--three
of my best soldiers, I say, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, had made
a party of pleasure with a young fellow from Gascony, whom I had
introduced to them the same morning.  The party was to take place
at St. Germain, I believe, and they had appointed to meet at the
Carmes-Deschaux, when they were disturbed by De Jussac, Cahusac,
Bicarat, and two other Guardsmen, who certainly did not go there
in such a numerous company without some ill intention against the
edicts."

"Ah, ah!  You incline me to think so," said the king.  "There is
no doubt they went thither to fight themselves."

"I do not accuse them, sire; but I leave your Majesty to judge
what five armed men could possibly be going to do in such a
deserted place as the neighborhood of the Convent des Carmes."

"Yes, you are right, Treville, you are right!"

"Then, upon seeing my Musketeers they changed their minds, and
forgot their private hatred for partisan hatred; for your Majesty
cannot be ignorant that the Musketeers, who belong to the king
and nobody but the king, are the natural enemies of the
Guardsmen, who belong to the cardinal."

"Yes, Treville, yes," said the king, in a melancholy tone; "and
it is very sad, believe me, to see thus two parties in France,
two heads to royalty. But all this will come to an end, Treville,
will come to an end.  You say, then, that the Guardsmen sought a
quarrel with the Musketeers?"

"I say that it is probable that things have fallen out so, but I
will not swear to it, sire.  You know how difficult it is to
discover the truth; and unless a man be endowed with that
admirable instinct which causes Louis XIII to be named the
Just--"


"You are right, Treville; but they were not alone, your
Musketeers.  They had a youth with them?"

"Yes, sire, and one wounded man; so that three of the king's
Musketeers--one of whom was wounded--and a youth not only
maintained their ground against five of the most terrible of the
cardinal's Guardsmen, but absolutely brought four of them to
earth."

"Why, this is a victory!" cried the king, all radiant, "a
complete victory!"

"Yes, sire; as complete as that of the Bridge of Ce."

"Four men, one of them wounded, and a youth, say you?"

"One hardly a young man; but who, however, behaved himself so
admirably on this occasion that I will take the liberty of
recommending him to your Majesty."

"How does he call himself?"

"D'Artagnan, sire; he is the son of one of my oldest friends--the
son of a man who served under the king your father, of glorious
memory, in the civil war."

"And you say this young man behaved himself well?  Tell me how,
Treville--you know how I delight in accounts of war and
fighting."

And Louis XIII twisted his mustache proudly, placing his hand
upon his hip.

"Sire," resumed Treville, "as I told you, Monsieur d'Artagnan is
little more than a boy; and as he has not the honor of being a
Musketeer, he was dressed as a citizen.  The Guards of the
cardinal, perceiving his youth and that he did not belong to the
corps, invited him to retire before they attacked."

"so you may plainly see, Treville," interrupted the king, "it was
they who attacked?"

"That is true, sire; there can be no more doubt on that head.
They called upon him then to retire; but he answered that he was
a Musketeer at heart, entirely devoted to your Majesty, and that
therefore he would remain with Messieurs the Musketeers."

"Brave young man!" murmured the king.

"Well, he did remain with them; and your Majesty has in him so
firm a champion that it was he who gave Jussac the terrible sword
thrust which has made the cardinal so angry."

"He who wounded Jussac!" cried the king, "he, a boy!  Treville,
that's impossible!"

"It is as I have the honor to relate it to your Majesty."

"Jussac, one of the first swordsmen in the kingdom?"

"Well, sire, for once he found his master."

"I will see this young, Treville--I will see him; and if anything
can be done--well, we will make it our business."

"When will your Majesty deign to receive him?"

"Tomorrow, at midday, Treville."

"Shall I bring him alone?"

"No, bring me all four together.  I wish to thank them all at
once.  Devoted men are so rare, Treville, by the back staircase.
It is useless to let the cardinal know."

"Yes, sire."

"You understand, Treville--an edict is still an edict, it is
forbidden to fight, after all."

"But this encounter, sire, is quite out of the ordinary
conditions of a duel.  It is a brawl; and the proof is that there
were five of the cardinal's Guardsmen against my three Musketeers
and Monsieur d'Artagnan."

"That is true," said the king; "but never mind, Treville, come
still by the back staircase."

Treville smiled; but as it was indeed something to have prevailed
upon this child to rebel against his master, he saluted the king
respectfully, and with this agreement, took leave of him.

That evening the three Musketeers were informed of the honor
accorded them.  As they had long been acquainted with the king,
they were not much excited; but D'Artagnan, with his Gascon
imagination, saw in it his future fortune, and passed the night
in golden dreams.  By eight o'clock in the morning he was at the
apartment of Athos.

D'Artagnan found the Musketeer dressed and ready to go out.  As
the hour to wait upon the king was not till twelve, he had made a
party with Porthos and Aramis to play a game at tennis in a
tennis court situated near the stables of the Luxembourg.  Athos
invited D'Artagnan to follow them; and although ignorant of the
game, which he had never played, he accepted, not knowing what to
do with his time from nine o'clock in the morning, as it then
scarcely was, till twelve.

The two Musketeers were already there, and were playing together.
Athos, who was very expert in all bodily exercises, passed with
D'Artagnan to the opposite side and challenged them; but at the
first effort he made, although he played with his left hand, he
found that his wound was yet too recent to allow of such
exertion.  D'Artagnan remained, therefore, alone; and as he
declared he was too ignorant of the game to play it regularly
they only continued giving balls to one another without counting.
But one of these balls, launched by Porthos' herculean hand,
passed so close to D'Artagnan's face that he thought that if,
instead of passing near, it had hit him, his audience would have
been probably lost, as it would have been impossible for him to
present himself before the king.  Now, as upon this audience, in
his Gascon imagination, depended his future life, he saluted
Aramis and Porthos politely, declaring that he would not resume
the game until he should be prepared to play with them on more
equal terms, and went and took his place near the cord and in the
gallery.

Unfortunately for D'Artagnan, among the spectators was one of his
Eminence's Guardsmen, who, still irritated by the defeat of his
companions, which had happened only the day before, had promised
himself to seize the first opportunity of avenging it.  He
believed this opportunity was now come and addressed his
neighbor:  "It is not astonishing that that young man should be
afraid of a ball, for he is doubtless a Musketeer apprentice."

D'Artagnan turned round as if a serpent had stung him, and fixed
his eyes intensely upon the Guardsman who had just made this
insolent speech.

"PARDIEU," resumed the latter, twisting his mustache, "look at me
as long as you like, my little gentleman!  I have said what I
have said."

"And as since that which you have said is too clear to require
any explanation," replied D'Artagnan, in a low voice, "I beg you
to follow me."

"And when?" asked the Guardsman, with the same jeering air.

"At once, if you please."

"And you know who I am, without doubt?"

"I?  I am completely ignorant; nor does it much disquiet me."

"You're in the wrong there; for if you knew my name, perhaps you
would not be so pressing."

"What is your name?"

"Bernajoux, at your service."

"Well, then, Monsieur Bernajoux," said D'Artagnan, tranquilly, "I
will wait for you at the door."

"Go, monsieur, I will follow you."

"Do not hurry yourself, monsieur, lest it be observed that we go
out together.  You must be aware that for our undertaking,
company would be in the way."

"That's true," said the Guardsman, astonished that his name had
not produced more effect upon the young man.

Indeed, the name of Bernajoux was known to all the world,
D'Artagnan alone excepted, perhaps; for it was one of those which
figured most frequently in the daily brawls which all the edicts
of the cardinal could not repress.

Porthos and Aramis were so engaged with their game, and Athos was
watching them with so much attention, that they did not even
perceive their young companion go out, who, as he had told the
Guardsman of his Eminence, stopped outside the door.  An instant
after, the Guardsman descended in his turn.  As D'Artagnan had no
time to lose, on account of the audience of the king, which was
fixed for midday, he cast his eyes around, and seeing that the
street was empty, said to his adversary, "My faith!  It is
fortunate for you, although your name is Bernajoux, to have only
to deal with an apprentice Musketeer.  Never mind; be content, I
will do my best.  On guard!"

"But," said he whom D'Artagnan thus provoked, "it appears to me
that this place is badly chosen, and that we should be better
behind the Abbey St. Germain or in the Pre-aux-Clercs."

"What you say is full of sense," replied D'Artagnan; "but
unfortunately I have very little time to spare, having an
appointment at twelve precisely.  On guard, then, monsieur, on
guard!"

Bernajoux was not a man to have such a compliment paid to him
twice.  In an in