“You are quite right; and besides that, what the deuce do you suppose I could do with your sword?”
“Am I to walk behind, or before you?” inquired Athos, laughing.
“You will walk arm in arm with me,” replied d’Artagnan, as he took the comte’s arm to descend the staircase; and in this manner they arrived at the landing. Grimaud, whom they had met in the anteroom, looked at them as they went out together in this manner, with some little uneasiness; his experience of affairs was quite sufficient to give him good reason to suspect that there was something wrong.
“Ah! is that you, Grimaud?” said Athos, kindly. “We are going—”
“To take a turn in my carriage,” interrupted d’Artagnan, with a friendly nod of the head.
Grimaud thanked d’Artagnan by a grimace, which was evidently intended for a smile, and accompanied both the friends to the door. Athos entered first into the carriage; d’Artagnan followed him without saying a word to the coachman. The departure had taken place so quietly, that it excited no disturbance or attention even in the neighborhood. When the carriage had reached the quays, “You are taking me to the Bastille, I perceive,” said Athos.
“I?” said d’Artagnan, “I take you wherever you may choose to go; nowhere else, I can assure you.”
“What do you mean?” said the comte, surprised.
“Why, surely, my dear friend,” said d’Artagnan, “you quite understand that I undertook the mission with no other object in view than that of carrying it out exactly as you liked. You surely did not expect that I was going to get you thrown into prison like that, brutally, and without any reflection. If I had anticipated that, I should have let the captain of the Guards undertake it.”
“And so—?” said Athos.
“And so, I repeat again, we will go wherever you may choose.”
“My dear friend,” said Athos, embracing d’Artagnan, “how like you that is!”
“Well, it seems simple enough to me. The coachman will take you to the barrier of the Cours-la-Reine; you will find a horse there which I have ordered to be kept ready for you; with that horse you will be able to do three posts without stopping; and I, on my side, will take care not to return to the king, to tell him that you have gone away, until the very moment it will be impossible to overtake you. In the meantime you will have reached Le Havre, and from Le Havre across to England, where you will find the charming residence of which M. Monck made me a present, without speaking of the hospitality which King Charles will not fail to show you. Well, what do you think of this project?”
Athos shook his head, and then said, smiling as he did so, “No, no, take me to the Bastille.”
“You are an obstinate fellow, my dear Athos,” returned d’Artagnan, “reflect for a few moments.”
“On what subject?”
“That you are no longer twenty years of age. Believe me, I speak according to my own knowledge and experience. A prison is certain death for men who are at our time of life. No, no; I will never allow you to languish in prison in such a way. Why, the very thought of it makes my head turn giddy.”
“Dear d’Artagnan,” Athos replied, “Heaven most fortunately made my body as strong, powerful, and enduring as my mind; and, rely upon it, I shall retain my strength up to the very last moment.”
“But this is not strength of mind or character; it is sheer madness.”
“No, d’Artagnan, it is the highest order of reasoning. Do not suppose that I should in the slightest degree in the world discuss the question with you, whether you would not be ruined in endeavoring to save me. I should have done precisely as you propose if flight had been part of my plan of action; I should, therefore, have accepted from you what, without any doubt, you would have accepted from me. No! I know you too well even to breathe a word upon the subject.”
“Ah! if you would only let me do it,” said d’Artagnan, “what a dance we would give his most gracious majesty!”
“Still he is the king; do not forget that, my dear friend.”
“Oh! that is all the same to me; and king though he be, I would plainly tell him, ‘Sire, imprison, exile, kill everyone in France and Europe; order me to arrest and poniard even whom you like—even were it Monsieur, your own brother; but do not touch one of the four musketeers, or if so, mordioux!’ ”
“My dear friend,” replied Athos, with perfect calmness, “I should like to persuade you of one thing; namely, that I wish to be arrested; that I desire above all things that my arrest should take place.”
D’Artagnan made a slight movement of his shoulders.
“Nay, I wish it, I repeat, more than anything; if you were to let me escape, it would be only to return of my own accord, and constitute myself a prisoner. I wish to prove to this young man, who is dazzled by the power and splendor of his crown, that he can be regarded as the first and chiefest among men only on the one condition of his proving himself to be the most generous and the wisest. He may punish me, imprison, torture me, it matters not. He abuses his opportunities, and I wish him to learn the bitterness of remorse, while Heaven teaches him what chastisement is.”
“Well, well,” replied d’Artagnan, “I know only too well that, when you have once said, ‘no,’ you mean ‘no.’ I do not insist any longer; you wish to go to the Bastille?”
“I do wish to go there.”
“Let us go, then! To the Bastille!” cried d’Artagnan to the coachman. And throwing himself back in the carriage, he gnawed the ends of his mustache with a fury which, for Athos, who
