Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Swordsmen -- Fiction
The blood had mounted to the head of D’Artagnan, and at that moment he
would have drawn his sword against all the Musketeers in the kingdom as
willingly as he now did against Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.
It was a quarter past midday. The sun was in its zenith, and the spot
chosen for the scene of the duel was exposed to its full ardor.
“It is very hot,” said Athos, drawing his sword in its turn, “and yet I
cannot take off my doublet; for I just now felt my wound begin to bleed
again, and I should not like to annoy Monsieur with the sight of blood
which he has not drawn from me himself.”
“That is true, Monsieur,” replied D’Artagnan, “and whether drawn by
myself or another, I assure you I shall always view with regret the
blood of so brave a gentleman. I will therefore fight in my doublet,
like yourself.”
“Come, come, enough of such compliments!” cried Porthos. “Remember, we
are waiting for our turns.”
“Speak for yourself when you are inclined to utter such incongruities,”
interrupted Aramis. “For my part, I think what they say is very well
said, and quite worthy of two gentlemen.”
“When you please, monsieur,” said Athos, putting himself on guard.
“I waited your orders,” said D’Artagnan, crossing swords.
But scarcely had the two rapiers clashed, when a company of the Guards
of his Eminence, commanded by M. de Jussac, turned the corner of the
convent.
“The cardinal’s Guards!” cried Aramis and Porthos at the same time.
“Sheathe your swords, gentlemen, sheathe your swords!”
But it was too late. The two combatants had been seen in a position
which left no doubt of their intentions.
“Halloo!” cried Jussac, advancing toward them and making a sign to his
men to do so likewise, “halloo, Musketeers? Fighting here, are you? And
the edicts? What is become of them?”
“You are very generous, gentlemen of the Guards,” said Athos, full of
rancor, for Jussac was one of the aggressors of the preceding day. “If
we were to see you fighting, I can assure you that we would make no
effort to prevent you. Leave us alone, then, and you will enjoy a
little amusement without cost to yourselves.”
“Gentlemen,” said Jussac, “it is with great regret that I pronounce the
thing impossible. Duty before everything. Sheathe, then, if you please,
and follow us.”
“Monsieur,” said Aramis, parodying Jussac, “it would afford us great
pleasure to obey your polite invitation if it depended upon ourselves;
but unfortunately the thing is impossible—Monsieur de Tréville has
forbidden it. Pass on your way, then; it is the best thing to do.”
This raillery exasperated Jussac. “We will charge upon you, then,” said
he, “if you disobey.”
“There are five of them,” said Athos, half aloud, “and we are but
three; we shall be beaten again, and must die on the spot, for, on my
part, I declare I will never appear again before the captain as a
conquered man.”
Athos, Porthos, and Aramis instantly drew near one another, while
Jussac drew up his soldiers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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