The Three Musketeers. Alexandre Dumas

said d’Artagnan—“(pardon me, madame, if, protector as I am, I remind you of prudence)—besides, I think that we are scarcely in a situation suitable for confidences. The men whom I have put to flight will return reinforced, and if they find us here, we shall be lost. I have sent to summon three of my friends, but it is uncertain whether they may be at home!”

      “Yes! yes! you are right,” said Madame Bonancieux, in alarm; “let us fly: let us escape!”

      And seizing d’Artagnan by his arm, she eagerly drew him along.

      “But whither shall we fly? where shall we escape to?” said d’Artagnan.

      “Let us get away from this place first, and then, having got clear of it, we shall see.”

      Without taking the trouble to shut the door, the two young people hastily passed down the Rue des Fossoyeurs, crossed the Rue des Fosses Monsieur le Prince, and did not stop until they reached the Place de St. Sulpice.

      “And now, what next?” inquired d’Artagnan; “and whither would you like me to conduct you?”

      “I confess that I scarcely know whither,” said Madame Bonancieux. “I had intended, through my husband, to intimate my escape to M. de la Porte, so that the latter might tell us exactly what has happened at the Louvre within the last three days, and whether there would be any danger in my presenting myself there.”

      “But I,” said d’Artagnan, “can go and inform M. de la Porte.”

      “Undoubtedly; yet there is one difficulty. M. Bonancieux is known at the Louvre, and would be allowed to enter; whilst you, not being known, would not be admitted.”

      “Nonsense!” said d’Artagnan: “there is doubtless a porter at some wicket of the Louvre who is devoted to you, and who, thanks to some countersign———”

      Madame Bonancieux looked earnestly at the young man.

      “And if I trusted you with this countersign,” said she, “would you undertake to forget it as soon as you had made use of it?”

      “On my word of honour! on the faith of a gentleman!” said d’Artagnan, with that accent of truth which never can mislead.

      “Well, I believe you! You look like a man of honour, and your fortune perhaps may depend on your devotion.”

      “I will perform, without any promises, and conscientiously, whatever I can to serve the king, and to be acceptable to the queen,” said d’Artagnan; “use me, therefore, as a friend!”

      “But what is to become of me in the meantime?”

      “Have you no acquaintance, to whose house M. de la Porte can come for you?”

      “No, I would rather not trust to any one!”

      “Wait,” said d’Artagnan; “we are now just by Athos’s door; yes, this is the best way!”

      “And who is Athos?”

      “A friend of mine.”

      “But, if he is at home, and sees me?”

      “But he is not there, and I will take away the key when I have placed you in his apartment.”

      “Suppose he should return?”

      “He will not return; besides, if he should, he will be told that I have brought a woman here, and that she is now in his apartment.”

      “But don’t you see this will compromise me very much?”

      “What need you care! no one knows you. Besides, we are not in a position to be particular.”

      “Well, let us go to your friend’s house, then; where does he live?”

      “In the Rue Ferou—two steps from here.”

      “Come, then.” And the two proceeded on their way. As d’Artagnan had foreseen, Athos was not at home; so taking the key, which they were in the habit of giving to him as a friend of the musketeer, he ascended the stairs, and introduced Madame Bonancieux into the little apartment which we have already described.

      “You are now at home,” said he. “Lock the door inside, and do not open it to any one, unless you hear three knocks—thus;” and he tapped three times—two taps together, pretty hard, and, after a short interval, a gentler tap.

      “That will do,” said Madame Bonancieux; “and now let me give you my instructions.”

      “I am all attention.”

      “Present yourself at the postern of the Louvre, on the side of the Rue de l’Echelle; and ask for Germain.”

      “Very well; and what next?”

      “He will ask you what you want; you must answer by these words—‘Tours and Brussels’—and he will immediately listen to your commands.”

      “And what shall I tell him to do?”

      “To go and find M. de la Porte, the queen’s valet-de-chambre.”

      “And when M. de la Porte has come?”

      “You will send him to me.”

      “Very well. But where, and how, shall I see you again?”

      “Do you feel particularly anxious to see me again?”

      “Particularly.”

      “Well, then, leave that to my care; and be at ease.”

      “I rely upon your word.”

      “And quite right.”

      D’Artagnan took leave of Madame Bonancieux, with the most amorous glance that he could possibly concentrate upon her charming little person; and whilst he was descending the stairs, he heard the door behind him double locked. In two bounds he was at the Louvre; and, as he entered the small door in the Rue de l’Echelle, it struck ten; so that all the events we have just related had transpired within half an hour.

      Everything happened just as Madame Bonancieux had predicted. Germain heard the watchword with a bow, and in ten minutes de la Porte was in the porter’s lodge; and in two words d’Artagnan told him what had occurred, and where Madame Bonancieux was to be found. La Porte made himself certain of the address by having it twice repeated, and then hurried away. But he had scarcely taken ten steps, before he returned.

      “Young man,” said he, “let me give you some good counsel.”

      “What is it?”

      “You may possibly get into some trouble on account of this affair.”

      “Do you think so?”

      “I do! Have you any friend whose clock is slow?”

      “Suppose I have?”

      “Go and pay him a visit, that he may be able to bear witness that you were in his company at half-past nine. In law, that is what is called an alibi.”

      D’Artagnan thought the advice prudent. He therefore took to his heels, and reached M. de Treville’s; but, instead of entering the drawing-room, with the rest of the company, he asked to be admitted into the cabinet, and as he was one of the habitual frequenters of the hotel, no objection was made to this; and M. de Treville was soon informed that his young compatriot, having something of importance to communicate, solicited a private interview.

      In five minutes M. de Treville was there, and asked d’Artagnan what he could do for him, and to what he was indebted for a visit at such a late hour?

      “Forgive me, sir,” said d’Artagnan (who had taken advantage of the moment he was left alone, to put the clock back three quarters of an hour), “but I thought, as it was only twenty-five minutes past nine, it was not yet too late to wait upon you.”

      “Twenty-five minutes past nine!” exclaimed M. de Treville, looking at the clock, “it