The Three Musketeers. Alexandre Dumas

I do not care.”

      “And yet you are wrong; for if you knew my name, perhaps you would be less courageous.”

      “Indeed! and pray what is your name?” said d’Artagnan.

      “Bernajoux, at your service.”

      “Well, M. Bernajoux,” replied d’Artagnan with the utmost tranquillity, “I shall await you at the gate.”

      “Proceed, sir; I will follow you.”

      “But do not be in too great haste, sir,” said d’Artagnan, “lest it should be perceived that we go out together; for, considering how we are about to be engaged, you must be aware that too many witnesses might prove inconvenient.”

      “There is some sense in that,” replied the guardsman, much surprised that his name had not produced a greater effect on the young man.

      The name of Bernajoux was indeed known to every one, except d’Artagnan; for he was one of those who constantly figured in the daily brawls which all the edicts of the king and the cardinal could not suppress.

      Porthos and Aramis were so much occupied by their game, and Athos was watching them so attentively, that they did not even perceive the departure of their young companion, who, as he had promised, waited a moment at the door for his opponent. In fact, d’Artagnan had no time to lose, considering the expected audience, which was fixed for twelve o’clock. He therefore cast his eyes around, and seeing that there was no one in the street—

      “Faith, sir,” said he to his adversary, “although your name is Bernajoux, it is very fortunate for you that you have to deal with a musketeer recruit only. However, be content: I will do my best. On your guard, sir!”

      “But,” said he whom d’Artagnan thus addressed, “it appears to me this place is badly chosen, and that we should be better behind the abbey of St. Germain, or in the Pré-aux-Clercs.”

      “True enough,” replied d’Artagnan, “but, unfortunately, my time is precious, as I have an important engagement precisely at twelve; therefore draw, sir, draw!”

      Bernajoux was not the man to wait the repetition of such a compliment. In an instant, therefore, his sword glittered in his hand, and he rushed upon his adversary, whom, on account of his extreme youth, he hoped to intimidate.

      But d’Artagnan had served his apprenticeship the evening before, and now fresh, and elated with his victory, as well as inflamed with hopes of future favour, he was fully resolved not to recede an inch. The two swords were therefore engaged, even to the guard; and as d’Artagnan kept his ground firmly, his adversary was obliged to retreat a single step. By this movement Bernajoux’s sword deviated from “opposition,” and d’Artagnan, seizing the opportunity, made a lunge which wounded his adversary in the shoulder. He immediately stepped back one pace, and raised his sword; but Bernajoux, declaring that it was nothing, made a blind thrust at d’Artagnan, and impaled himself upon his sword. Nevertheless, as Bernajoux neither fell, nor declared himself vanquished, but merely retreated towards the hotel of M. de la Tremouille, in whose service he had a relative, d’Artagnan, ignorant of the severity of his adversary’s wound, pressed him closely, and doubtless would have despatched him by a third thrust, had not the clash of the rapiers reached the tennis-court, from which now rushed, sword in hand, two of the guardsman’s friends (who had heard him exchange words with d’Artagnan), and fell upon the conqueror. But Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, now also joined the fray; and at the moment when the two guardsmen attacked their young comrade, forced them to turn. At that instant Bernajoux fell; and as the guards were then only two against four, they began to cry out—“To our aid! hotel de la Tremouille!” At this cry, all the inmates of the hotel rushed out, and fell upon the four friends; who, on their side, exclaimed “Help, musketeers!”

      The latter cry was very common; for it was known that the musketeers hated the cardinal, and they were beloved for the very hatred they bore towards his eminence. Hence, in those quarrels, the guards of all the other regiments, excepting those actually belonging to the Red Duke, as Aramis had designated the cardinal, generally sided with the king’s musketeers. Of three guardsmen, who were passing, of the company of M. des Essarts, two came to the assistance of the four friends, whilst the third ran to the hotel of M. de Treville, crying, “Help! musketeers, help!” As usual, M. de Treville’s hotel was full of soldiers, who ran to the assistance of their comrades, and the battle became general. But the superiority of force was with the musketeers; and the cardinal’s guards, with M. de la Tremouille’s people, retired into the hotel, the doors of which they secured in time to exclude their opponents. As for the wounded man, he had been carried away at first, and, as we have said, in very bad plight.

      Excitement amongst the musketeers and their allies was at its height, and they deliberated whether they should not set fire to the hotel, to punish the insolence of M. de la Tremouille’s retainers, who had presumed to charge the king’s musketeers. The proposition had been made and received with enthusiasm, when fortunately it struck eleven o’clock; and d’Artagnan and his companions, remembering their audience, and not wishing a feat so daring to be performed without their aid, succeeded in quelling the commotion; they therefore contented themselves with throwing some stones at the door, and then left the place. Besides, those whom they regarded as their leaders had just left them to proceed towards the hotel of M. de Treville, who, already aware of this fresh insult, awaited their arrival.

      “Quick, to the Louvre!” said he; “to the Louvre, without losing one moment; and let us endeavour to see the king before the cardinal prejudices him. We will narrate the affair as a consequence of that of yesterday, and the two will be disposed of together.”

      M. de Treville, accompanied by the four young men, hastened towards the Louvre; but, to the great surprise of the captain of the musketeers, he was informed that the king had gone to the chase in the forest of St. Germain. M. de Treville caused this intelligence to be twice repeated, and each time his companions observed his countenance become darker.

      “Had his majesty formed the intention of hunting, yesterday?” demanded he.

      “No, your excellency,” replied the valet. “The master of the hounds came this morning to announce that he had roused a stag; at first the king said he would not go, but subsequently he could not resist the pleasure which the chase promised him, and he set out after dinner.”

      “And has the king seen the cardinal?” demanded M. de Treville.

      “In all probability,” replied the valet, “for this morning I saw the horses harnessed to the cardinal’s carriage; I inquired where it was going, and was told to St. Germain.”

      “We are anticipated,” said M. de Treville. “I shall see the king this evening; but, as for you, I would not counsel you at present to attempt it.”

      The advice was too reasonable; especially as that of a man who knew the king too well, to be opposed by the young men. M. de Treville therefore requested them to return to their respective homes, and await his orders.

      On reaching his hotel, it occurred to M. de Treville that it would be prudent to be in advance with his complaint. He therefore despatched a letter to M. de la Tremouille, requesting him to dismiss from his house the cardinal’s guards; and, further, to reprimand his own people for charging the musketeers. M. de la Tremouille, however, being already prejudiced by his equerry, whose relative Bernajoux was, replied that neither M. de Treville nor his musketeers had a right to complain, but, on the contrary, he himself; the musketeers having not only attacked and wounded his people, but also threatened to burn his mansion. Now, as a dispute between two such great men might last a long time, each being likely to adhere obstinately to his opinion, M. de Treville thought of an expedient to bring it to a close; and this was to go himself to M. de la Tremouille. He therefore repaired to his hotel, and caused himself to be announced.

      The two noblemen saluted each other politely, for, although they were not friends, they yet esteemed each other. They were both brave and honourable men; and as M. de la Tremouille was a protestant, and therefore rarely saw the king, he intrigued on no side, and had contracted few prejudices in his social relations. On the