Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Swordsmen -- Fiction
Lord de Winter arrived at the appointed time; but Athos, being warned
of his coming, went into the other chamber. He therefore found
D’Artagnan alone, and as it was nearly eight o’clock he took the young
man with him.
An elegant carriage waited below, and as it was drawn by two excellent
horses, they were soon at the Place Royale.
Milady Clarik received D’Artagnan ceremoniously. Her hôtel was
remarkably sumptuous, and while the most part of the English had quit,
or were about to quit, France on account of the war, Milady had just
been laying out much money upon her residence; which proved that the
general measure which drove the English from France did not affect her.
“You see,” said Lord de Winter, presenting D’Artagnan to his sister, “a
young gentleman who has held my life in his hands, and who has not
abused his advantage, although we have been twice enemies, although it
was I who insulted him, and although I am an Englishman. Thank him,
then, madame, if you have any affection for me.”
Milady frowned slightly; a scarcely visible cloud passed over her brow,
and so peculiar a smile appeared upon her lips that the young man, who
saw and observed this triple shade, almost shuddered at it.
The brother did not perceive this; he had turned round to play with
Milady’s favorite monkey, which had pulled him by the doublet.
“You are welcome, monsieur,” said Milady, in a voice whose singular
sweetness contrasted with the symptoms of ill-humor which D’Artagnan
had just remarked; “you have today acquired eternal rights to my
gratitude.”
The Englishman then turned round and described the combat without
omitting a single detail. Milady listened with the greatest attention,
and yet it was easily to be perceived, whatever effort she made to
conceal her impressions, that this recital was not agreeable to her.
The blood rose to her head, and her little foot worked with impatience
beneath her robe.
Lord de Winter perceived nothing of this. When he had finished, he went
to a table upon which was a salver with Spanish wine and glasses. He
filled two glasses, and by a sign invited D’Artagnan to drink.
D’Artagnan knew it was considered disobliging by an Englishman to
refuse to pledge him. He therefore drew near to the table and took the
second glass. He did not, however, lose sight of Milady, and in a
mirror he perceived the change that came over her face. Now that she
believed herself to be no longer observed, a sentiment resembling
ferocity animated her countenance. She bit her handkerchief with her
beautiful teeth.
That pretty little _soubrette_ whom D’Artagnan had already observed
then came in. She spoke some words to Lord de Winter in English, who
thereupon requested D’Artagnan’s permission to retire, excusing himself
on account of the urgency of the business that had called him away, and
charging his sister to obtain his pardon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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