“Patience, sir, patience!” said Monck, smiling.
“Patience! yes, until that brave gentleman is roasted—is that what you mean?” And d’Artagnan rushed forward.
“Remain where you are, sir,” said Monck, in a tone of command. And he advanced towards the house, just as an officer had approached it, saying to the besieged: “The house is burning, you will be roasted within an hour! There is still time—come, tell us what you know of General Monck, and we will spare your life. Reply, or by Saint Patrick—”
The besieged made no answer; he was no doubt reloading his pistol.
“A reinforcement is expected,” continued the officer; “in a quarter of an hour there will be a hundred men around your house.”
“I reply to you,” said the Frenchman. “Let your men be sent away; I will come out freely and repair to the camp alone, or else I will be killed here!”
“Mille tonnerres!” shouted d’Artagnan; “why, that’s the voice of Athos! Ah, canailles!” and the sword of d’Artagnan flashed from its sheath. Monck stopped him and advanced himself, exclaiming, in a sonorous voice: “Holà! what is going on here? Digby, whence this fire? why these cries?”
“The general!” cried Digby, letting the point of his sword fall.
“The general!” repeated the soldiers.
“Well, what is there so astonishing in that?” said Monck, in a calm tone. Then, silence being reestablished—“Now,” said he, “who lit this fire?”
The soldiers hung their heads.
“What! do I ask a question, and nobody answers me?” said Monck. “What! do I find a fault, and nobody repairs it? The fire is still burning, I believe.”
Immediately the twenty men rushed forward, seizing pails, buckets, jars, barrels, and extinguishing the fire with as much ardor as they had, an instant before, employed in promoting it. But already, and before all the rest, d’Artagnan had applied a ladder to the house, crying, “Athos! it is I, d’Artagnan! Do not kill me, my dearest friend!” And in a moment the count was clasped in his arms.
In the meantime, Grimaud, preserving his calmness, dismantled the fortification of the ground-floor, and after having opened the door, stood, with his arms folded, quietly on the sill. Only, on hearing the voice of d’Artagnan, he uttered an exclamation of surprise. The fire being extinguished, the soldiers presented themselves, Digby at their head.
“General,” said he, “excuse us; what we have done was for love of your honor, whom we thought lost.”
“You are mad, gentlemen. Lost! Is a man like me to be lost? Am I not permitted to be absent, according to my pleasure, without giving formal notice? Do you, by chance, take me for a citizen from the city? Is a gentleman, my friend, my guest, to be besieged, entrapped, and threatened with death, because he is suspected? What signifies the word, suspected? Curse me if I don’t have every one of you shot like dogs, that the brave gentleman has left alive!
“General,” said Digby, piteously, “there were twenty-eight of us, and see, there are eight on the ground.”
“I authorize M. le Comte de la Fère to send the twenty to join the eight,” said Monck, stretching out his hand to Athos. “Let them return to camp. Mr. Digby, you will consider yourself under arrest for a month.”
“General—”
“That is to teach you, sir, not to act, another time, without orders.”
“I had those of the lieutenant, general.”
“The lieutenant had no such orders to give you, and he shall be placed under arrest, instead of you, if he has really commanded you to burn this gentleman.”
“He did not command that, general; he commanded us to bring him to the camp; but the count was not willing to follow us.”
“I was not willing that they should enter and plunder my house,” said Athos to Monck, with a significant look.
“And you were quite right. To the camp, I say.” The soldiers departed with dejected looks. “Now we are alone,” said Monck to Athos, “have the goodness to tell me, Monsieur, why you persisted in remaining here, whilst you had your felucca—”
“I waited for you, general,” said Athos. “Had not your honor appointed to meet me in a week?”
An eloquent look from d’Artagnan made it clear to Monck that these two men, so brave and so loyal, had not acted in concert for his abduction. He knew already it could not be so.
“Monsieur,” said he to d’Artagnan, “you were perfectly right. Have the kindness to allow me a moment’s conversation with M. le Comte de la Fère?”
D’Artagnan took advantage of this to go and ask Grimaud how he was. Monck requested Athos to conduct him to the chamber he lived in.
This chamber was still full of smoke and rubbish. More than fifty balls had passed through the windows and mutilated the walls. They found a table, inkstand, and materials for writing. Monck took up a pen, wrote a single line, signed it, folded the paper, sealed the letter with the seal of his ring, and handed over the missive to Athos, saying, “Monsieur, carry, if you please, this letter to King Charles II, and set out immediately, if nothing detains you here any longer.”
“And the casks?” said Athos.
“The fisherman who brought me hither will assist you in transporting them on board. Depart, if possible, within an hour.”
“Yes, general,” said Athos.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan!” cried Monck, from the window. D’Artagnan ran up precipitately.
“Embrace your friend and bid him adieu, sir; he is returning to Holland.”
“To Holland!” cried d’Artagnan; “and I?”
“You are at liberty to follow him, Monsieur; but I request you to remain,” said Monck. “Will you refuse me?”
“Oh, no, general; I am at your orders.”
D’Artagnan embraced Athos, and only had time to bid him adieu. Monck watched them both. Then he took upon himself the preparations for the departure, the transportation of the casks on board, and the embarking of Athos; then, taking d’Artagnan by the arm, who was quite amazed and agitated, he led him towards Newcastle. Whilst going along, the general leaning on his arm, d’Artagnan could not help murmuring to himself—“Come, come, it
