Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 190 — page 39: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

\ ee er — -——— words literally. Iam not precisely rich, but in easy cir- eumsta. ces."’ ‘* Come, madame,”’ said Porthos, ‘let nssay no more about it; you have misunderstood me, and all sympathy between us is destroyed.” ‘* Ungratefui man!”’ ‘+ Aw! I advise you to complain!”’ said Porthos. ‘Go to your beautiful duchess! Let meno longer re- atrain you.”’ ** Ah! she isnot yet so outraged, I believe.”’ ‘* Come, then, M. Porthos,”’ said madame Coquenard, ‘‘once more, and it is the last time—do you still love me?’ “ Alas, madame,” replied Porthos, in the most mel- ancholly tone that he could assume, ‘‘ when one is about to commence a campaign, in which campaign m presentiments assure me that I shall be kill- “Oh, do not say such things!” exclaimed the attor- ney's wife, bursting out into sobs. ‘* Something tells me that it will be so,” said Porthos, becoming more and more melancholy. ‘‘Say, rather that you have formed another love.”’ **No, I speak frankly to sige . No new object has engaged my phan Gates and, ndeed, I feel something at the bottom of my heart which speaks for you. But in a fortnight, as you do or do not know, this fatal cam- paign will open, and I shall be dreadfully busy about my ae laenenk. Besides, I must go into Brittany, to my own family, to provide the funds necessary for my de- ure.’ Porthos observed a last struggle between love and avarice. ‘*And as,” continned he, “the duchess, whom you saw just now, has an estate close to mine, we shull go down together. A journey, you know, appears much shorter when one travels in company.” ‘*Have you no friendsin Paris, M. Porthos?” asked the attorne, ’s wife. ‘‘T once believed I had,”’ said Porthos, resuming his melancholy manner; ‘* but I have clearly seen that I de- ceived mprelag ‘Yon have! you have! M. Porthos,*’ exclaimed the attorney's wife, in a transport which inspired even her- self. ‘*Conetoour house to-morrow. You are theson of myaunt; consequently my cousin; you comefrom Noyon,in Picardy, and you have several law-suits on a hands, and noattorney. Can you remember ail is?’ I aii madame.”’ ‘Come at dinuer-time.”” ** Very well.”’ “ And keep your ground before my husband, who is a shrewd fellow, in spite of his seventy-six years.” ‘‘Seventy-six years! Plague takeit! a fine age,”’ re- plied Porthos, ‘A great age, yon mean, to say, M. Porthos, Sothat the poor, dear man might leave me a widow at a mo- ment's notic:.’’ added the lady, casting a significant glance at Porthos. ‘Fortunately, however by our mar- riage contract, all the property reverts to the survivor.” eo a Porthos. **'Yes; all." rceive, my ‘“‘Yon area most provident woman, I 08, tenderly charming Madame Coquenard,”’ said Po pressing the lady’s hand, “Then we are completely reconciled, my dear M. Porthos?” said she, in a most insinuating tone. ‘“‘ For life,’’ replied Porthos, in the same manner, ‘Farewell, then, till our next meeting, you traitor.” * Till our next meeting, you forgetful one.” ‘* Till to-morrow, my angel!” ‘* Till to-morrow, light of my life.” fi CHAPTER XXX. “WE LAD. D’ARTAGNAN had followed the other Indy from the church without being observed by her, He saw her en- ter her carriage, and heard the orders given to her coachman to drive to St. Germain. It was useless to attempt to follow, on foot, a carriage which was drawn by two vigorous horses at a trot; and and d’Artagnan therefore returned to the rue Ferou, In the rue de Seine he met Planchet, who had stopped before a pastry-cook's shop, and appeared to be in per- gees ecatacy atthe sight of a cake, of most tempting orm, D’ Artagnan order him to go and saddle two horses at M. De Treville’s stable, one for each of them, and to cometo him at Athos’s lodgings, M. de Treville had given d'Artagnan a general permission to avail himself of his stables, Planchet took his way towards the rne de Colombier, and d’ an to rue Ferue, Athos was at home, glossy emptying one of the bottles of that famous 2 ees wine which he had brought with him from cardy. Hegave Grimand a sign to bring a glass for d’Artagnan, and Grimaud obeyed with his habitual taciturnity. DPD’ Artagnan related to Athos all that had occurred at the church between the aitorney’s wife and Porthos, and how their companion was already in a fair way of ebtaining his equipments. “ Por my part,” said Athos in answer to this recital, “‘T am sure enough that it will not be women who will be at the expense of my fittings-out.” ‘* And yet, my dear Athos, handsome and refined, and noble as you are, neither princesses, nor even queens, are nerend what you might seek to win.” At this moment, Planchet modestly thrust his head through the half-open door, and announced that the horses were there. ‘* What horses?’’ asked Athos. ‘“Two which M. de Treville lends me, with which I am going to St. Germain,” - ‘And what are you going to do at St. Germain?” in- quired Athos. D’Artagnan then proceeded to inform him of his hav- me - -- oe Oe eee ee = lL LL = == CV —— — —— UHE THREE GUARDSMEN, | ee ee aw ee ee ee ee ee Se ing seen at the ehurch that lady, who, in conjunction with the gentleman in the black cloak, and with the scar upon his forehead, had been the unceasing subject of his thoughts. ‘““Yhat is to say that you are in love with this one now, as you were with Madame Bonancieux,”’ ejaculated Athos, shrugging his shoulders, as if in contempt of human weakness. ‘‘Not at all!’’ exclaimed d’Artagnan. ‘‘I am only curious to penctra‘e the mystery with which she sur- rounds Lerself, Iknow not why, but I fancy that this woman, unknown asshe isto me, and as 1 am to her, has hitherto exercised some influence on my life.” “You are right, in fact,’ said Athos. ‘* Iam not ac- qnainted with any woman who is worth the trouble of being sought after when she is once lost. Madame Bonancieux is lost: s0 much the worse for her; let her get herself found again.” ‘““No, Athos, no; you deceive yourself,” said d’Art- agnan. ‘I love poor Constarce more fondly than ever; and if I only knew the place where she now is, were it even at the extremity of the world, I would set out to drag her from her enemies. But I know it not, and all my efforts to discover it have been in vain. What would youexpect? One must seek some diversion.” ‘‘Divert yourself with my lady then, my dear d'Art- agnan, I recommend it with all my heart, if that will amuse you.”’ ‘* But, Athos," said d'Artagnan, “instead of keeping yourself here, secluded like a prisoner, get upon a horse and ride with me to St. Germain.” ‘*My friend,’ said Athos, “‘I ride on horseback if I have a horse; if not, I walk on foot.” ‘* Well, formy part,’ said d’Artagnan, emiling at that misanthropy in Athos which, in another, would have offended him, ‘‘I am not so prond as yon are; I ride whatever I can find. So farewell, my dear Athos.”’ “Fa: ewell,”’ said the musketeer, as he made a sign to Grimaud to uncork the bottle he had bronght. D’Artagnan and Planchet got into their saddles, and took the road to St. Germain, As her went along, d’Artagnan could not help think- ingcof all thut Athos had said to him about Madame Bonancieux, Although he was not of a very sentimental nature, yet the pretty seamstress had made an actual impression on his heart; and he was, as he had said, ready to go to the end of the world to find her. Butthe world, being round, has so many ends that he did not know in what direction to turn, In the meantime he tried to find out who this lad was. She had talked to the man in the dark cloak, and, therefore, she was certainly acquainted with him. Now the man with the dark cloak had, in d’Artagnan’s opinion, certainly carried off Madame Bonancicux the second time, as well as the first. D’Artagnan, there- fore, was only telling half a lic. which is not mnch of one, when he said that, by his pursuit of this lady, he was at the same time seeking Constance. Thus meditating, and touching his horse occasionally with the spur, d’Artagnan had gone over the distance, and reached St. Germain. He wentskirting the pavilion, where, ten years afierwards, Louis XIV. was born. He was passing through a very solitary street, looking right and left to see if he could not discover some vestige of this beautiful Englishwoman, when, according to the custom of the time, had no window towards the stre: t, he recognized a countenance he knew. This person was walking on a sort of terrace, ornimented with flowers. Planchet was the first to recognize him. ‘Eh, sir,’ said he, “do yon not remember that face, which is now gaping at yonder plant?” ‘*No,”? said d’Artagnan; ‘‘and yet I am convinced it is not the first time that I have seen it.” ‘Egad! [believe you,” said Planchet: ‘‘ itis that poor Lubin, the valet of the Count de Wardes, whom you settled so thorou hly a month ago, at Calais, on the way to the governor's house.”’ ‘‘Oh! yes,” said d’Artagnan, ‘‘T remember him now, Do you believe that he would recognize you?” ‘“Paith, sir, he was in sucha terrible fright, that I doubt whether he could have a very clear recollection of me.’ ‘Well, then,” said d’Artagnan, “‘go and chat with him, and ascertain whether his master is dead.” Planchet dismounted, and went up to Lubin, who, in reality did not recognize him; and the two valets began to converse together with the utmost good-fellowship; whilst d’Artagnan pushed the horses down a lane, and turning behind a house, returned to assist at the con- ference, concealed by a hedge of hazel bushes. After a minute's obeervation behind the heard the sound of wheels, and saw the unknown lady stop in f:ont of him, There could be no doubt about it, for the lady was inside. D’Artagnan bent down over his horse's neck, that he might see everything, without “peta himself seen, The lady put her charming fair head out of the door, and gave some orders to her maid. This latter, a pretty girl, of from twenty to two-and- twenty years of age, alert and animated, the fit Abigail of a woman of fashion, jumped down the steps, over which she had been seated, according to the custom of the time, and went towards the terrace where d’Artag- nan had seen Lubin. D’Artagnan followed the waiting-woman with his eyes, and saw her going towards the terrace. But, as it happened, an order from the house had called away Lub n, 80 that Planchet remained alone, looking in what direction his master had concealed himself. The waiting-woman approached Planchet whom she mistook for Lubin, and handed him a small note. ‘For your master,”’ said she. “For my master?’ said Planchet, in astonishment, ei gst and in great haste: take it quickly then.” She then hastened towards the carriage, which had already turned in the direction whence it had come, | for promenades of the aces jumped on the steps, and the vehicle moved away. Planchet turned the note over and over again, and then, accustomed to passive obedience, he jumped down he of the —_——-— —E we ee eee ee eee -_———— = ee ———EeEEEe ee : from the terrace, went along the lane, and, at twenty paces distance, met his master, who, having seen ali the proceedings, was hurrying towards him. ‘For you, sir,” said Planchet, handing the note to the young man. ‘For me?” said d’Artagnan: “‘are you quite sure?”’ ‘‘ Egad! I am quite sure of it; for the maid said, ‘for your master,’ and I have no otherthan you; so——a pretty slip of a girl that maid is, too, upon my word.” D’Artagnan opened the letter, and read these words:— ‘* A person who interests herself about you more than she can tell, wonld be glad to know on what day you will be able to walk out in the forest. A valet, in black and red, will be waiting to-morrow, at the hotel of the Field of Cloth of Gold, for your reply.” ‘*Oh, oh!’ said d’Artagnan, *‘ this is something ardent. It seems that my lady and I are anxious about the health of the same person. Well! Planchet, how is this good M. de Wardes? He is not dead then?” ‘‘No, sir: he is as well as a man can be with four sword-wounds in his body—for you sent four into that dear gentleman—and he is yet weak, having lost almost all his blood, AsI told you, sir, Lubin did not recog- nize me, and related to me the whole of our adventure.” ‘Well done, Planchet? You are the very king of va- lets; and now mount your horse again, and let us over take the carriage.” o* 9 This did not take them a long time: in abont five minutes they saw the carriage stopping in the road, and a richly-dressed cavalier waiting at its door. The conversation between the lady and this cavalicr was so animat: d, that d’Artagnan drew up on the other side of the carriage, without being observed by any one but the pretty waiting-maid, The conversation was in English, which d’Artagnan did not understand; but, by the accent, the young man thought he could perceive that the beautiful English woman was very ang She concluded by a gesture which left no doubt abont the nature of the conversa- tion: it was a blow with her fan, applied with snch force that the little feminine toy flew into a thousand. ieces, J The cavalier burst into a roar of laughter, which ap- peared to exasperate the lady. D’Artagnan thought that now was. the time to inter- se: he therefore approached the other door, and tak- Lf his hat off respectfully, Madame,” said he, ‘*will you permit me to offer my service? Itappears tome that this gentleman has offended yon. mediately punish him for his want of courtesy.” At the first words the Jady turned, and looked at the young man with astonishment, and, when he had ended— “Sir,” said she, in very good French, “i would put | myself under your protection with the Se pai pleasure, “3 ~~ person with whom I have quarrelled were not my rother,” ‘“Ah, excuse me then,” said d’Artagnan, “I was not aware of that, madame.” ; “Whatis that presumptnons fellow interfering about?” exclaimed the gentleman whom the lady had claimed as her relation, lowering his head to the height of the door: ‘*why does he not fe on about his business?” ** Presumptious bending on the neck of his horse, and answering through the other door. ‘‘I do not go, because I choose to remain here.” Pe gentleman spoke a few words in English to hie ster, ‘‘T speak French to you, sir,” said @’A an: “do me the favor then, I beseech yon, to answer in the same language. You are the lady’s brother; but, happily, you are not mine.” It might have been imagined that the lady, timid as women generally are, would interpose at the commence- ment of this quarrel, to preventits proceeding further; | but, on the contrary, she threw herself back in her © og re, ang coolly ordered the coachman to drive her to the hotel. | The pretty waiting-maid threw a glance of anxiety at d’Artagnan, whose good looks seemed not to have been . lost upon her. The carriage hurried on, and left the two men face to _— No material obstacle now intervened between them, The cavalier made a movement to follow the carnage but echo se I shag ere already boiling anger wass i further increased by recognising in him the Englishman. who, at Amiens, bad won his horse. and was v neal him by thee winning bis diamond from Athoe-—seized belo, Sas poeper SP, ** Ah, sir.’ suid he, “‘ you appear to be even a more proonmeasnens fellow than Iam; for you pretend te orget that there is already alittle quarrel began be- tween us.”’ “Ah, ah!” cried the Englishman, “is it you, my master? Then one must always play one game or the other with you.” ‘Yes: and that reminds me that I have a revenge to take. We will skilful with the sword as with the dice-box.” ‘You perceive,”’ said the Englishman, ‘that I have no sword with me. Would you show off your courage ainst an unarmed man?” ‘“*T hope that rs have got one at home,” said Art- agnan; ‘if not, ong it lish I ‘Quite unnecessary,” seid the Englishman, * I am sufficiently provided with that kind of utensil.” “Well, then, my worthy sir,” lied Artagnan; ‘* chose the largest. apd come and show it me this evening. ‘**Oh, certainly, if you please.” “Behind the Luxembo there is a charming s lat 1 ax inviting youtor “Very well; I e “Your hour ?” “ Six o'clock.” EOmiEdoo Say one word, madame, and I will im-~ ellow, yourself!’ said d'Artagnan, see, my dear sir, whether you are as have got two, and will play you for — (E() ¥ 4 . fb 4 . edi & " - 4 * ol *