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List Of Contents | Contents of Ten Years Later, by Alexandre Dumas, Pere
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father.  I assure you that, although at that time I had good muscles and
a sort of brute courage - I assure you that the father did me some
mischief.  But you should have seen how I fought it out with him.  Ah,
Athos, such encounters never take place in these times!  I had a hand
which could never remain at rest, a hand like quicksilver, - you knew its
quality, for you have seen me at work.  My sword was no longer than a
piece of steel; it was a serpent that assumed every form and every
length, seeking where it might thrust its head; in other words, where it
might fix its bite.  I advanced half a dozen paces, then three, and then,
body to body, I pressed my antagonist closely, then I darted back again
ten paces.  No human power could resist that ferocious ardor.  Well, De
Wardes the father, with the bravery of his race, with his dogged courage,
occupied a good deal of my time; and my fingers, at the end of the
engagement, were, I well remember, tired enough."

"It is, then, as I said," resumed Athos, "the son will always be looking
out for Raoul, and will end by meeting him; and Raoul can easily be found
when he is sought for."

"Agreed; but Raoul calculates well; he bears no grudge against De Wardes,
- he has said so; he will wait until he is provoked, and in that case his
position is a good one.  The king will not be able to get out of temper
about the matter; besides we shall know how to pacify his majesty.  But
why so full of these fears and anxieties?  You don't easily get alarmed."

"I will tell you what makes me anxious; Raoul is to see the king to-
morrow, when his majesty will inform him of his wishes respecting a
certain marriage.  Raoul, loving as he does, will get out of temper, and
once in an angry mood, if he were to meet De Wardes, the shell would
explode."

"We will prevent the explosion."

"Not I," said Athos, "for I must return to Blois.  All this gilded
elegance of the court, all these intrigues, sicken me.  I am no longer a
young man who can make terms with the meanness of the day.  I have read
in the Great Book many things too beautiful and too comprehensive to
longer take any interest in the trifling phrases which these men whisper
among themselves when they wish to deceive others.  In one word, I am
weary of Paris wherever and whenever you are not with me; and as I cannot
have you with me always, I wish to return to Blois."

"How wrong you are, Athos; how you gainsay your origin and the destiny of
your noble nature.  Men of your stamp are created to continue, to the
very last moment, in full possession of their great faculties.  Look at
my sword, a Spanish blade, the one I wore at La Rochelle; it served me
for thirty years without fail; one day in the winter it fell upon the
marble floor on the Louvre and was broken.  I had a hunting-knife made
of it which will last a hundred years yet.  You, Athos, with your
loyalty, your frankness, your cool courage, and your sound information,
are the very man kings need to warn and direct them.  Remain here;
Monsieur Fouquet will not last as long as my Spanish blade."

"Is it possible," said Athos, smiling, "that my friend, D'Artagnan, who,
after having raised me to the skies, making me an object of worship,
casts me down from the top of Olympus, and hurls me to the ground?  I
have more exalted ambition, D'Artagnan.  To be a minister - to be a
slave, - never!  Am I not still greater?  I am nothing.  I remember
having heard you occasionally call me 'the great Athos'; I defy you,
therefore, if I were minister, to continue to bestow that title upon me.
No, no; I do not yield myself in this manner."

"We will not speak of it any more, then; renounce everything, even the
brotherly feeling which unites us."

"It is almost cruel what you say."

D'Artagnan pressed Athos's hand warmly.  "No, no; renounce everything
without fear.  Raoul can get on without you.  I am at Paris."

"In that case I shall return to Blois.  We will take leave of each other
to-night; to-morrow at daybreak I shall be on my horse again."

"You cannot return to your hotel alone; why did you not bring Grimaud
with you?"

"Grimaud takes his rest now; he goes to bed early, for my poor old
servant gets easily fatigued.  He came from Blois with me, and I
compelled him to remain within doors; for if, in retracing the forty
leagues which separate us from Blois, he needed to draw breath even, he
would die without a murmur.  But I don't want to lose Grimaud."

"You shall have one of my musketeers to carry a torch for you.  _Hola!_
some one there," called out D'Artagnan, leaning over the gilded
balustrade.  The heads of seven or eight musketeers appeared.  "I wish
some gentleman, who is so disposed, to escort the Comte de la Fere,"
cried D'Artagnan.

"Thank you for your readiness, gentlemen," said Athos; "I regret to have
occasion to trouble you in this manner."

"I would willingly escort the Comte de la Fere," said some one, "if I had
not to speak to Monsieur d'Artagnan."

"Who is that?" said D'Artagnan, looking into the darkness.

"I, Monsieur d'Artagnan."

"Heaven forgive me, if that is not Monsieur Baisemeaux's voice."

"It is, monsieur."

"What are you doing in the courtyard, my dear Baisemeaux?"

"I am waiting your orders, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan."

"Wretch that I am," thought D'Artagnan; "true, you have been told, I
suppose, that some one was to be arrested, and have come yourself,
instead of sending an officer?"

"I came because I had occasion to speak to you."

"You did not send to me?"

"I waited until you were disengaged," said Monsieur Baisemeaux, timidly.

"I leave you, D'Artagnan," said Athos.

"Not before I have present Monsieur Baisemeaux de Montlezun, the governor
of the Bastile."

Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other.

"Surely you must know each other," said D'Artagnan.

"I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux," said Athos.

"You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king's guardsman with whom we
used formerly to have such delightful meetings in the cardinal's time?"

"Perfectly," said Athos, taking leave of him with affability.

"Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose _nom de guerre_ was Athos,"
whispered D'Artagnan to Baisemeaux.

"Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four."

"Precisely so.  But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?"

"If you please."

"In the first place, as for the orders - there are none.  The king does
not intend to arrest the person in question.

"So much the worse," said Baisemeaux with a sigh.

"What do you mean by so much the worse?" exclaimed D'Artagnan, laughing.

"No doubt of it," returned the governor, "my prisoners are my income."

"I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light."

"And so there are no orders," repeated Baisemeaux with a sigh.  "What an
admirable situation yours is, captain," he continued, after a pause;
"captain-lieutenant of the musketeers."

"Oh, it is good enough; but I don't see why you should envy me; you,
governor of the Bastile, the first castle in France."

"I am well aware of that," said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful tone of voice.

"You say that like a man confessing his sins.  I would willingly exchange
my profits for yours."

"Don't speak of profits to me, if you wish to save me the bitterest
anguish of mind."

"Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as if you were
afraid of being arrested yourself, you whose business it is to arrest
others?"

"I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to us; it would
be safer to confer more in private, if you would grant me such a favor."

"Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five and thirty
years' standing.  Don't assume such sanctified airs; make yourself quite
comfortable; I don't eat governors of the Bastile raw."

"Heaven be praised!"

"Come into the courtyard with me; it's a beautiful moonlit night; we will
walk up and down, arm in arm, under the trees, while you tell me your
pitiful tale."  He drew the doleful governor into the courtyard, took him
by the arm as he had said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried:
"Out with it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?"

"It's a long story."

"You prefer your own lamentations, then; my opinion is, it will be longer
than ever.  I'll wager you are making fifty thousand francs out of your
pigeons in the Bastile."

"Would to heaven that were the case, M. d'Artagnan."

"You surprise me, Baisemeaux; just look at you, acting the anchorite.  I
should like to show you your face in a glass, and you would see how plump
and florid-looking you are, as fat and round as a cheese, with eyes like
lighted coals; and if it were not for that ugly wrinkle you try to
cultivate on your forehead, you would hardly look fifty years old, and
you are sixty, if I am not mistaken."

"All quite true."

"Of course I knew it was true, as true as the fifty thousand francs
profit you make;" at which remark Baisemeaux stamped on the ground.

"Well, well," said D'Artagnan, "I will add up your accounts for you: you
were captain of M. Mazarin's guards; and twelve thousand francs a year
would in twelve years amount to one hundred and forty thousand francs."

"Twelve thousand francs!  Are you mad?" cried Baisemeaux; "the old miser
gave me no more than six thousand, and the expenses of the post amounted
to six thousand five hundred francs.  M. Colbert, who deducted the other
six thousand francs, condescended to allow me to take fifty thousand
francs as a gratification; so that, if it were not for my little estate
at Montlezun, which brings me in twelve thousand francs a year, I could
not have met my engagements."

"Well, then, how about the fifty thousand francs from the Bastile?
There, I trust, you are boarded and lodged, and get your six thousand
francs salary besides."

"Admitted!"

"Whether the year be good or bad, there are fifty prisoners, who, on the
average, bring you in a thousand francs a year each."

"I don't deny it."

"Well, there is at once an income of fifty thousand francs; you have held

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