DREAM OF VENGEANCE

That evening Milady gave orders that when M. D`Artagnan came

as usual, he should be immediately admitted; but he did not

come.

The next day Kitty went to see the young man again, and

related to him all that had passed on the preceding evening.

D`Artagnan smiled; this jealous anger of Milady was his

revenge.

That evening Milady was still more impatient than on the

preceding evening. She renewed the order relative to the

Gascon; but as before she expected him in vain.

The next morning, when Kitty presented herself at

D`Artagnan`s, she was no longer joyous and alert as on the

two preceding days; but on the contrary sad as death.

D`Artagnan asked the poor girl what was the matter with her;

but she, as her only reply, drew a letter from her pocket

and gave it to him.

This letter was in Milady`s handwriting; only this time it

was addressed to M. D`Artagnan, and not to M. de Wardes.

He opened it and read as follows:

Dear M. d`Artagnan, It is wrong thus to neglect your

friends, particularly at the moment you are about to leave

them for so long a time. My brother-in-law and myself

expected you yesterday and the day before, but in vain.

Will it be the same this evening?

Your very grateful,

Milady Clarik

"That`s all very simple," said D`Artagnan; "I expected this

letter. My credit rises by the fall of that of the Comte de

Wardes."

"And will you go?" asked Kitty.

"Listen to me, my dear girl," said the Gascon, who sought

for an excuse in his own eyes for breaking the promise he

had made Athos; "you must understand it would be impolitic

not to accept such a positive invitation. Milady, not

seeing me come again, would not be able to understand what

could cause the interruption of my visits, and might suspect

something; who could say how far the vengeance of such a

woman would go?"

"Oh, my God!" said Kitty, "you know how to represent things

in such a way that you are always in the right. You are

going now to pay your court to her again, and if this time

you succeed in pleasing her in your own name and with your

own face, it will be much worse than before."

Instinct made poor Kitty guess a part of what was to happen.

D`Artagnan reassured her as well as he could, and promised

to remain insensible to the seductions of Milady.

He desired Kitty to tell her mistress that he could not be

more grateful for her kindnesses than he was, and that he

would be obedient to her orders. He did not dare to write

for fear of not being able--to such experienced eyes as those

of Milady--to disguise his writing sufficiently.

As nine o`clock sounded, D`Artagnan was at the Place Royale.

It was evident that the servants who waited in the

antechamber were warned, for as soon as D`Artagnan appeared,

before even he had asked if Milady were visible, one of them

ran to announce him.

"Show him in," said Milady, in a quick tone, but so piercing

that D`Artagnan heard her in the antechamber.

He was introduced.

"I am at home to nobody," said Milady; "observe, to nobody."

The servant went out.

D`Artagnan cast an inquiring glance at Milady. She was

pale, and looked fatigued, either from tears or want of

sleep. The number of lights had been intentionally

diminished, but the young woman could not conceal the traces

of the fever which had devoured her for two days.

D`Artagnan approached her with his usual gallantry. She

then made an extraordinary effort to receive him, but never

did a more distressed countenance give the lie to a more

amiable smile.

To the questions which D`Artagnan put concerning her health,

she replied, "Bad, very bad."

"Then," replied he, "my visit is ill-timed; you, no doubt,

stand in need of repose, and I will withdraw."

"No. no!" said Milady. "On the contrary, stay, Monsieur

D`Artagnan; your agreeable company will divert me."

"Oh, oh!" thought D`Artagnan. "She has never been so kind

before. On guard!"

Milady assumed the most agreeable air possible, and

conversed with more than her usual brilliancy. At the same

time the fever, which for an instant abandoned her, returned

to give luster to her eyes, color to her cheeks, and

vermillion to her lips. D`Artagnan was again in the

presence of the Circe who had before surrounded him with her

enchantments. His love, which he believed to be extinct but

which was only asleep, awoke again in his heart. Milady

smiled, and D`Artagnan felt that he could damn himself for

that smile. There was a moment at which he felt something

like remorse.

By degrees, Milady became more communicative. She asked

D`Artagnan if he had a mistress.

"Alas!" said D`Artagnan, with the most sentimental air he

could assume, "can you be cruel enough to put such a

question to me--to me, who, from the moment I saw you, have

only breathed and sighed through you and for you?"

Milady smiled with a strange smile.

"Then you love me?" said she.

"Have I any need to tell you so? Have you not perceived

it?"

"It may be; but you know the more hearts are worth the

capture, the more difficult they are to be won."

"Oh, difficulties do not affright me," said D`Artagnan. "I

shrink before nothing but impossibilities."

"Nothing is impossible," replied Milady, "to true love."

"Nothing, madame?"

"Nothing," replied Milady.

"The devil!" thought D`Artagnan. "The note is changed. Is

she going to fall in love with me, by chance, this fair

inconstant; and will she be disposed to give me myself

another sapphire like that which she gave me for De Wardes?"

D`Artagnan rapidly drew his seat nearer to Milady`s.

"Well, now," she said, "let us see what you would do to

prove this love of which you speak."

"All that could be required of me. Order; I am ready."

"For everything?"

"For everything," cried D`Artagnan, who knew beforehand that

he had not much to risk in engaging himself thus.

"Well, now let us talk a little seriously," said Milady, in

her turn drawing her armchair nearer to D`Artagnan`s chair.

"I am all attention, madame," said he.

Milady remained thoughtful and undecided for a moment; then,

as if appearing to have formed a resolution, she said, "I

have an enemy."

"You, madame!" said D`Artagnan, affecting surprise; "is

that possible, my God?--good and beautiful as you are!"

"A mortal enemy."

"Indeed!"

"An enemy who has insulted me so cruelly that between him

and me it is war to the death. May I reckon on you as an

auxiliary?"

D`Artagnan at once perceived the ground which the vindictive

creature wished to reach.

"You may, madame," said he, with emphasis. "My arm and my

life belong to you, like my love."

"Then," said Milady, "since you are as generous as you are

loving--"

She stopped.

"Well?" demanded D`Artagnan.

"Well," replied Milady, after a moment of silence, "from the

present time, cease to talk of impossibilities."

"Do not overwhelm me with happiness," cried D`Artagnan,

throwing himself on his knees, and covering with kisses the

hands abandoned to him.

"Avenge me of that infamous De Wardes," said Milady, between

her teeth, "and I shall soon know how to get rid of you--you

double idiot, you animated sword blade!"

"Fall voluntarily into my arms, hypocritical and dangerous

woman," said D`Artagnan, likewise to himself, "after having

abused me with such effrontery, and afterward I will laugh

at you with him whom you wish me to kill."

D`Artagnan lifted up his head.

"I am ready," said he.

"You have understood me, then, dear Monsieur D`Artagnan"

said Milady.

"I could interpret one of your looks."

"Then you would employ for me your arm which has already

acquired so much renown?"

"Instantly!"

"But on my part," said Milady, "how should I repay such a

service? I know these lovers. They are men who do nothing

for nothing."

"You know the only reply that I desire," said D`Artagnan,

"the only one worthy of you and of me!"

And he drew nearer to her.

She scarcely resisted.

"Interested man!" cried she, smiling.

"Ah," cried D`Artagnan, really carried away by the passion

this woman had the power to kindle in his heart, "ah, that

is because my happiness appears so impossible to me; and I

have such fear that it should fly away from me like a dream

that I pant to make a reality of it."

"Well, merit this pretended happiness, then!"

"I am at your orders," said D`Artagnan.

"Quite certain?" said Milady, with a last doubt.

"Only name to me the base man that has brought tears into

your beautiful eyes!"

"Who told you that I had been weeping?" said she.

"It appeared to me--"

"Such women as I never weep," said Milady.

"So much the better! Come, tell me his name!"

"Remember that his name is all my secret."

"Yet I must know his name."

"Yes, you must; see what confidence I have in you!"

"You overwhelm me with joy. What is his name?"

"You know him."

"Indeed."

"Yes.

"It is surely not one of my friends?" replied D`Artagnan,

affecting hesitation in order to make her believe him

ignorant.

"If it were one of your friends you would hesitate, then?"

cried Milady; and a threatening glance darted from her eyes.

"Not if it were my own brother!" cried D`Artagnan, as if

carried away by his enthusiasm.

Our Gascon promised this without risk, for he knew all that

was meant.

"I love your devotedness," said Milady.

"Alas, do you love nothing else in me?" asked D`Artagnan.

"I love you also, YOU!" said she, taking his hand.

The warm pressure made D`Artagnan tremble, as if by the

touch that fever which consumed Milady attacked himself.

"You love me, you!" cried he. "Oh, if that were so, I should lose my reason!"

And he folded her in his arms, She made no effort to remove

her lips from his kisses; only she did not respond to them.

Her lips were cold; it appeared to D`Artagnan that he had

embraced a statue.

He was not the less intoxicated with joy, electrified by

love. He almost believed in the tenderness of Milady; he

almost believed in the crime of De Wardes. If De Wardes had

at that moment been under his hand, he would have killed

him.

Milady seized the occasion,

"His name is--" said she, in her turn.

"De Wardes; I know it," cried D`Artagnan.

"And how do you know it?" asked Milady, seizing both his

hands, and endeavoring to read with her eyes to the bottom

of his heart.

D`Artagnan felt he had allowed himself to be carried away,

and that he had committed an error.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me, I say," repeated Milady, "how do

you know it?"

"How do I know it?" said D`Artagnan.

"Yes."

"I know it because yesterday Monsieur de Wardes, in a saloon

where I was, showed a ring which he said he had received

from you."

"Wretch!" cried Milady.

The epithet, as may be easily understood, resounded to the

very bottom of D`Artagnan`s heart.

"Well?" continued she.

"Well, I will avenge you of this wretch," replied

D`Artagnan, giving himself the airs of Don Japhet of

Armenia.

"Thanks, my brave friend!" cried Milady; "and when shall I

be avenged?"

"Tomorrow--immediately--when you please!"

Milady was about to cry out, "Immediately," but she

reflected that such precipitation would not be very gracious

toward D`Artagnan.

Besides, she had a thousand precautions to take, a thousand

counsels to give to her defender, in order that he might

avoid explanations with the count before witnesses. All

this was answered by an expression of D`Artagnan`s.

"Tomorrow," said he, "you will be avenged, or I shall be

dead."

"No," said she, "you will avenge me; but you will not be

dead. He is a coward."

"With women, perhaps; but not with men. I know something of

him."

"But it seems you had not much reason to complain of your

fortune in your contest with him."

"Fortune is a courtesan; favorable yesterday, she may turn

her back tomorrow."

"Which means that you now hesitate?"

"No, I do not hesitate; God forbid! But would it be just to

allow me to go to a possible death without having given me

at least something more than hope?"

Milady answered by a glance which said, "Is that all?--speak,

then." And then accompanying the glance with explanatory

words, "That is but too just," said she, tenderly.

"Oh, you are an angel!" exclaimed the young man.

"Then all is agreed?" said she.

"Except that which I ask of you, dear love."

"But when I assure you that you may rely on my tenderness?"

"I cannot wait till tomorrow."

"Silence! I hear my brother. It will be useless for him to

find you here."

She rang the bell and Kitty appeared.

"Go out this way," said she, opening a small private door,

"and come back at eleven o`clock; we will then terminate

this conversation. Kitty will conduct you to my chamber."

The poor girl almost fainted at hearing these words.

"Well, mademoiselle, what are you thinking about, standing

there like a statue? Do as I bid you: show the chevalier

out; and this evening at eleven o`clock--you have heard what

I said."

"It appears that these appointments are all made for eleven

o`clock," thought D`Artagnan; "that`s a settled custom."

Milady held out her hand to him, which he kissed tenderly.

"But," said he, as he retired as quickly as possible from

the reproaches of Kitty, "I must not play the fool. This

woman is certainly a great liar. I must take care."

Date: 2015-01-29; view: 584