Twenty Years After

Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open space, rose a dark mass, separated from the rest of the world by two lanes and overshadowed in the front by enormous lime-trees. D’Artagnan looked attentively at the building.

“This,” he said to Planchet, “must be the archbishop’s chateau, the abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but the convent, where is that?”

“The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the village; I know it well.”

“Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my horse’s girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light in any of the Jesuits’ windows.”

In about five minutes Planchet returned.

“Sir,” he said, “there is one window of the convent lighted up.”

“Hem! If I were a ‘Frondeur,’” said D’Artagnan, “I should knock here and should be sure of a good supper. If I were a monk I should knock yonder and should have a good supper there, too; whereas, ‘tis very possible that between the castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds, dying with hunger and thirst.”

“Yes,” added Planchet, “like the famous ass of Buridan. Shall I knock?”

“Hush!” replied D’Artagnan; “the light no longer burns in yonder window.”

“Do you hear nothing?” whispered Planchet.

“What is that noise?”

There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two troops of horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth from each of the lanes which encompassed the house and surrounded D’Artagnan and Planchet.

“Heyday!” cried D’Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking refuge behind his horse; “are you not mistaken? is it really for us that you mean your attack?”

“Here he is! we have him!” cried the horsemen, rushing on D’Artagnan with naked swords.

“Don’t let him escape!” said a loud voice.

“No, my lord; be assured we shall not.”

D’Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the conversation.

“Halloo, gentlemen!” he called out in his Gascon accent, “what do you want? what do you demand?”

“That thou shalt soon know,” shouted a chorus of horsemen.

“Stop, stop!” cried he whom they had addressed as “my lord;” “‘tis not his voice.”

“Ah! just so, gentlemen! pray, do people get into a passion at random at Noisy? Take care, for I warn you that the first man that comes within the length of my sword-and my sword is long-I rip him up.”

The chieftain of the party drew near.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a lofty tone, as that of one accustomed to command.

“And you-what are you doing here?” replied D’Artagnan.

“Be civil, or I shall beat you; for although one may not choose to proclaim oneself, one insists on respect suitable to one’s rank.”

“You don’t choose to discover yourself, because you are the leader of an ambuscade,” returned D’Artagnan; “but with regard to myself, who am traveling quietly with my own servant, I have not the same reasons as you have to conceal my name.”

“Enough! enough! what is your name?”

“I shall tell you my name in order that you may know where to find me, my lord, or my prince, as it may suit you best to be called,” said our Gascon, who did not choose to seem to yield to a threat. “Do you know Monsieur d’Artagnan?”

“Lieutenant in the king’s musketeers?” said the voice; “you are Monsieur d’Artagnan?”

“I am.”

“Then you came here to defend him?”

“Him? whom?”

“The man we are seeking.”

“It seems,” said D’Artagnan, “that whilst I thought I was coming to Noisy I have entered, without suspecting it, into the kingdom of mysteries.”

“Come,” replied the same lofty tone, “answer! Are you waiting for him underneath these windows? Did you come to Noisy to defend him?”

“I am waiting for no one,” replied D’Artagnan, who was beginning to be angry. “I propose to defend no one but myself, and I shall defend myself vigorously, I give you warning.”

“Very well,” said the voice; “go away from here and leave the place to us.”

“Go away from here!” said D’Artagnan, whose purposes were in conflict with that order, “that is not so easy, since I am on the point of falling, and my horse, too, through fatigue; unless, indeed, you are disposed to offer me a supper and a bed in the neighborhood.”

“Rascal!”

“Eh! monsieur!” said D’Artagnan, “I beg you will have a care what you say; for if you utter another word like that, be you marquis, duke, prince or king, I will thrust it down your throat! do you hear?”

“Well, well,” rejoined the leader, “there’s no doubt ‘tis a Gascon who is speaking, and therefore not the man we are looking for. Our blow has failed for to-night; let us withdraw. We shall meet again, Master d’Artagnan,” continued the leader, raising his voice.

“Yes, but never with the same advantages,” said D’Artagnan, in a tone of raillery; “for when you meet me again you will perhaps be alone and there will be daylight.”

“Very good, very good,” said the voice. “En route, gentlemen.”

And the troop, grumbling angrily, disappeared in the darkness and took the road to Paris. D’Artagnan and Planchet remained for some moments still on the defensive; then, as the noise of the horsemen became more and more distant, they sheathed their swords.

“Thou seest, simpleton,” said D’Artagnan to his servant, “that they wished no harm to us.”

“But to whom, then?”

“I’faith! I neither know nor care. What I do care for now, is to make my way into the Jesuits’ convent; so to horse and let us knock at their door. Happen what will, the devil take them, they can’t eat us.”

And he mounted his horse. Planchet had just done the same when an unexpected weight fell upon the back of the horse, which sank down.

“Hey! your honor!” cried Planchet, “I’ve a man behind me.”

D’Artagnan turned around and plainly saw two human forms on Planchet’s horse.