Pulp Fiction, 1882 · page 54 of 72
Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 190 — page 54: what you’re looking at
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Be. | me a sei Grimaud had already commenced his retreat, with the basket and the fragments. The four friends followed “Ah! What the plague are we about, gentlemen?’ exclaimed Athos. “The flag: zounds! we must not leave a flagin the hand? of the enemy, even when that flag is only a nap- “ the platform, and took down the flag. bs But,.as the Rochellois had come within musketshot, Sg imself, as if for amusement for their discharge. | might have been fancied, however, that Athos bore a i Stood unharmed. | Athos wavered his standard, as he turned his back on resounded on both sides—shonts of anger from the one; a from the other, of enthusiasm. balls, y passing through it, made a regular standard of the . ; down! come down!" Athos siowly descended. His companions, who wait- with joy. ~** Come along, Athos, come along,”’ said d’Artagnan; t except money, it would be absurd to get killed.” But Athos persisted in Lis majestic walk; and his their pace by his. _. Grimaud and his basket hap formed the advanced - After a minute or two they heard the sound of a furious firing. behind him, and took about a dozen steps. ‘* Have you forgotten anything?’’ inquired Aramis. ‘And Athos rushed back into the bastion, mounted it they opened a sharp fire upon this man who thus ex- : ‘ ve + bento! life; the bullets whistled around him, yet he a, | the town, and bowed towards the camp. Lond shouts antone discharge soon followed the first, and three ee y heard the whole camp exclaiming—‘t Come ed for him with anxiety, welcomed his re-appearance ‘‘let us make haste. Now that we have found every- companions, finding all remonstrance useless, regulated ~ guard, and were both soon out of range. “What is that?’ asked Porthos: “at what are they firing! I do not hear the bullets whistle, nor do I see =m They are firing at our dead men!”"’ replied Athos. But our dead men will not answer their fire, ‘Exactly so. They will then believe that there is an ambuscade; they will deliberate, and afterwards recon- noitre; and by the time they discover the trick, we shall be beyond the reach of their fire. Thus, you see, itis annecessary to give ourselves a fit of the pleurisy ' by over haste.”’ ‘Oh! I understand now!” said the astonished Por- thos. Ra A ‘That's very fortunate,’’ replied Athos, shrugging * «fais shonlders. * The French, on their side, perceiving their adventur- ous comrades returning, uttered cries of enthusiasm. At length, a fresh firing was heard, and this time the bullets were actually flattened on the stones around the _ four friends, and whistled mournfully abont their ears. * "Phe Rochellois had at last taken possession of the bs on. rt. “They are a set of awkward fellows,’’ remarked - Athos; “how many of them have we killed? A dozen?” | _** Or fifteen.” a _ ** How many did we crush?” | ot: or ten.”’ | *“And,in exchange for this, we have not got a scratch. as mB Phy though! at is the matter there with your hand, d’A an? It bleeds, I think?’ ‘ “It is nothing,” replied d’Artagnan. oe a Was it a spent ball?” ‘ ~~" ‘What then?” We have said that Athos ioved d’Artagnan as his own son; and, though of a gloomy and inflexible character, he sometimes manifested towards the young man a so- pei ip nosh ag ey vg Hl ‘* Merely a scratch,”’ replied d’Artagnan, “I canght . my fingers between two stones—that of the wall, sad that o nad ring—and the skin is cut.” ‘*See what itis to wear diamonds, my master," said Athos, contemprnonsly. ‘Ah!’ exclaimed Porthos, ‘‘there is a diamond, in fact; and why the plague, then, as there is a diamond, a?) do we complain of haying no money?” " — ‘ee, there, now!” sa mis. | m+ es We 1 done, Porthos: this time you really have got an ~ Idea. —s * Certainly,’’ continued Porthos, bridling up at Athos's «compliment; ‘‘ and since there is a diamond, let us sell “ee | Se he ‘“‘ But,”’ said d’Artagnan ‘itis the queen's diamond.”’ ‘* One reason more,”’ said Athos—“ the queen, saving a «che Duke of Buckingham, her lover; nothing can be | more just—the queen saving us, her friends: nothing | can be more moral. Let us sell the diamond. What does the abbe say? I do not ask Porthos'’s opinion—it is **Why, I think,” said Aramis, blushing, ‘‘ that as the _ring does not come from a mistress, and, consequently is not a love-token, d’Artagnan may sell it.” ‘* My dear fellow, you speak like theology personified. $0 your advice is—” Bae ‘To sell the diamond,” replied Aramis. ff “Well,” said d’Artagnan, gaily, ‘‘let us sell the dia- SS mond, and say no more abont it.”’ - The firing still continued, but the friends were beyond its reach, and the Rochellois seemed to be firing only for the satisfaction of their own consciences, ‘Faith,’ said Athos, ‘‘it was quite time for this idea | +f Porthos’s to present itself; for here we are at the a CAB, So now, gentlemen, not another word about * this business. We are observed. They are ceming to _ meet us, and we shall be borne in in triumph,” _. Th fact, as we heve already said, the whole camp was . incommotion, More than two thonsand persons h from suspecting the true motive. . Se TTT OOOO ooo seen RRR eee SSeS sss es witnessed, as at a theatre, the fortunate bravado of the | were made against her, than those which she might four friends—a bravado of which they had been far | make against others. Without solicitation, therefore, Nothing could be she permitted the captain to carry her past Lorient and eee THE THREE GUARDSMEN. , a ae ee heard but cries of ‘‘long live the guards!"’ ‘‘long live the musketeers!"" M. de Busigny was the first who came to press the hand of Athos, and to confess that he had lost his bet. The dragoon and the Swiss had fol- | lowed him; and all their comrades had followed the | dragoon and the Swiss. There was no end to the: con- | gratulations, shaking of hands, embraces, and inex- | tinguishable laughter at the Rochellois; and, at last, thetumult was so great that the cardinal supposed there was a mutiny, and sent La Houdiniere, the cap- tain of his guards, to ascertain the cause of the dis- turbance. The circimstance was related to his messeriger with all the warmth of enthusiasm. ‘*Well?”’ demanded the cardinal, when he saw La Houdiniere. ‘Well, my lord,” replied the latter, ‘it is three mus- keteers and a guardsman, who laid a bet with M. de Busigny to go and breakfast in the bastion of St. Ger- | vais; and who, whilst at breakfast, maintained their | pe for two hoursagainst the Rochellois, and killed know not how many of the enemy.”’ ‘*Did you learn the names of these musketeers? ’’ “Yes, my lord.”’ ** What are they? *’ *- ‘Messrs, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis." “* Always my three brave fellows,”’ muttered the car- dinal. ‘‘ And the guard?” “*M. d’Artagnan.”’ ““My young madcap again! Decidedly these four men must be mine.” On the same evening, the cardinal spoke to M. de Treville of the exploit, which formed the subject of conversation throughout the whole camp. M. de Treville, who had heard the recital of the adventure from the lips of those who were its heroes, recounted it in all its particulars to his eminence, without forgetting | the episode of the napkin. ‘Very good, M, de Treville,’’ said the cardinal; “give | me this napkin, I entreat you. I will get three fleurs-de- | lis embroidered on it in gold, and will give it to you as a standard for your company.”’ “My lord,” said M. de Treville, ‘‘that would be un- ha towards the guards. M. d’Artagnan does not be- ong to me, but to M. des Essarts.’’ ‘Well then, take him,”’ said the cardinal: *‘it is not fair that these four brave soldiers, who love each other so much, should not serve in the same company.”’ On the same evening, M. de Treville announced this | good news to the three musketeers and to d'Artagnan, | inviting them to breakfast with him on the following | day. D'Artagnan could not contain himself for joy. We know that the dream of his whole life had been to be a | musketeer. The three friends were also much delighted. ‘*Faith,’’ said d’Artagnan to Athos, “‘ yours was a triumphant idea: and, as you’ said, we have gained glory byit, besides being able to hold a conversation of the greatest importance.” * Which we may henceforth renew withont sus for, with God's help, we shall henceforth be ooked upon as cardinalists."’ On the same evening d’A n went to pay his respects to M. des Essarts, and to inform him of his promotion. M. des Essarts, who had great affection for d’Artag- nan, offered him any assistance that he might require, as this change of regiment brought withit new expenses of equipment. . D’Artagnan declined this aid; but thinking the oppor- tunity a good one, he requested him to ascertain the value of the diamond, which he placed in his hands, stating that he wished to turn it into money. At eight o'clock the next morning, M. des Exsarte’ valet came to d’Artagran, and handed , containing seven thousand livres to him a bag in gold, It was the price of the queen’s diamond. Se _—— icion; CHAPTER XLVU. FATALITY. ‘ IN ius Seantime her ladyship—intoxicated with rage, and roaring on the vessel's deck like an excited lioness —had been even tempted to cast herself into the sea; for she could not bring herself to brook the thought that she had been insulted by d’Artagnan, and threat- ened by Athos, and was now quitting France without having obtained revenge. So insupportable had this idea at last become, that, at the risk of the most terrible consequences to herself, she had entreated the captain to land her on the French coast. But the captain, anxious to escape from his false position—where he was placed between the English and French cruisers, like a bat between the rats and birds—was in extremr haste to arrive in England. He obstinately refused, therefore, to obey what he regarded as a womanly caprice; he promised, however, to_ his pansenier. who had been particularly recommended to his care by the cardinal, to land her at some port in Brittany, either Brest or Lorient, should the weather and the French permit. But in the meantime the wind was contrary, and the sea rough: they tacked about continually; and nine days after her departure from Clarente, her lady- ship, palefrom grief and rage, saw only the blue shores of Finisterre. She calculated that, to traverse that angle of France and return to the cardinal, would take her at least three days; add one day for landing, and that would make four. Add these four to the nine already elapsed, and here were thirteen lost days—thirteen days, du which so many important events might have occurred in Lon- don. She considered that the cardinal would undoubt- edly be furious at her return, and, consequently, would be more disposed to listen to any accusations which re NS sss teem | gt earnestly, Ha Brest: and he on his part, was careful not to remin@ her of her wishes. She thus continued her voyage. The whole town wasina state of extraordinary ex- citement. Four large ships, recently built, had just been launched into the sea, Standing on the jetty, cov- ered with gold, and glittering as usual with diamonds and precious stones, his hat adorned with a white plume which drooped oa his shoulder, Buckingham was vis- _ surrounded by a staff almost as brilliant as him- self, It was one of those few and fine Summer days, when Englishmen remember that there is a sun. The pale, bur still splendid luminary was just setting in the horizon, empurpling the heavens and the sea ‘with bands of fire, and casting a last golden ray on the towers and the old buildings of the town, which made the windows gleam as with the reflection of a conflagration. Her ladyshi —as she inhaled the sea breeze, which is fresher an more balmy in the vicinity of land, and as she contem- plated all those mighty preparations which she was ordered to destroy, and all the might of that armament against which she had come to contend alone—a wo- man, with a few bags of gold mentally compared her- self to Judith, the fearful Jewess, when she pene- trated into the camp of the Assyrians, and saw the enormous mass of chariots, of horses, of men, and of arms, which one movement of her hand was to dissipate like a cloud of amoke. They entered the roads, but, we as they were making ready to cast anchor, a small, strongly-armed cutter presented itself asa const qners approached the mer- chant-vessel, and put off its boat, which was steered towards them. The boat contained an officer, a lien- tenant, and eight men. The officer alone came on board, where he was received with all the respect which his uniform inspired. The officer conversed for a few minutes with the | captain, and inspected some papers which he brought with him; and then, on the captain's order all the crew and passengers of the vessel were mus- tered upon deck. When this had been done, the officer inquired aloud, as to where the brig had come from, what had been its course, and where it had putin; and to all these questions the captain replied satisfac- torily, without hesitation or difficulty. The officer then began to examine all the persons on deck, one after the other, and shopping at her ladyship, he looked at her ut without uttering a single word. ving returned to the captain, and made some new communication to him, the officer, as if he had now taken command of the vessel, gave an order which the crew aay executed. By this means the vessel was put again in motion; but it was still escorted by the littlé cutter, which kept beside it, menacing its broadside with the mouths of her cannon; the boat fol- lowed in the vessel's wake, an object scarcely visible behind the enormous mass. Whilst the officer had been examiting her ladyship, she, as may be well imagined, had, on her side, not failed to scrutinize him most intently. But however much this woman, with her eye of fire, was accustomed to read the hearts of those whose secret she wished to discover, she had found at last a countenance so per- fectly impassable that no insight followed her investi- ation. . The officer who stood before her, and silently studied her with so much care, might be about twenty-six years | of age. He had a very fair complexion, with bine eyes, rather deeply set. His fine and well-cut month con- tinued perfectly motionless in its classic lines. His well-developed chin denoted that strength of will which in the prevailing English character, is commonly no better than appa o£ and Ris slightly receding fore- head—snch as is accordsd to posts to enthusiasts and to soldiers—was scantily shaded by short thin hairs. which, as well as the beard that covered the lower part of his face, was of a beantiful, deep chestnut color. When they entered the harbor it was already dark. The fog increased the obscurity, and formed around the lanterns of the ep and jetties, a circle similar to that which surrounds the moon when it threatens rainy weather. The air was ba ali damp and cold Her ladyship, firm as she was, elt herself shivering, in spite of all her efforts. e officer had had her ladyship’s packages pointed out to him, and ordered them to be put into the boat: after which, offering his hand to assist her, he requested her to descend herself. Her ladyship looked atthe man and hesitated. ‘* Who are you, sir,” said she, ‘‘ who are so good as to trouble yourself so particularly about me?” ‘* You may see, madame, from my uniform, that I am an officer in the English navy,” replied the young man. ** But is it usual for the officers of the English navy to put themselves under the command of their country- women, when they approach a British port, and to dis- play their gallentry so far as to conduct them on shore?” “Yes, my lady, itis the custom—not from gatientey. but prudence—that, in time of war, strangers may conducted to a certain appointed hotel, in order that they may, until every information be obtained concern- ing oa remain under the inspection of the govern- ment.”’ These words were uttered with the most exact polite- ness, andthe most perfect calmness, and yet they did not convince her ladyship. ‘** But J am not a fore er as pure as was ever nt sir,*’ said she, in an accent between Portsmouth and Manchester. ‘My nameis Lady de Winter, and this proceeding———”’ “This proceeding is general, my lady, and you will in vain endeavour to escape it. ‘«T will follow you, then, sir.” And accepting the officer’s hand, she began to descend the ladder, at the bottom of which the boat was betes The officer followed her. <A large cloak was 8 n the stern: tho ¢ rmade her seat herself on it, and placed himsef ‘yy her side. “Give way’? eaidhe to the sailors, ¢ Eomicboo! : : ; ' ee ——"