“Oh, no; that is not likely. You know my method: ‘Monsieur, you have injured my friend, and-‘”
“Yes, I know it.”
“And then: ‘Monsieur, I have horses below.’ I carry him off before he can have spoken to any one.”
“Will he allow himself, think you, to be carried off like that?”
“I should think so! I should like to see it fail! It would be the first time, if it did. It is true, though, that the young men of the present day- Bah! I would carry him off bodily, if it were necessary”; and Porthos, adding gesture to speech, lifted Raoul and his chair.
“Very good,” said Raoul, laughing. “All we have to do is to state the grounds of the quarrel to M. de Saint-Aignan.”
“Well; but that is done, it seems.”
“No, my dear M. du Vallon, the usage of the present day requires that the cause of the quarrel be explained.”
“By your new method, yes. Well, then, tell me what it is-”
“The fact is-”
“Deuce take it! See how troublesome this is! In former days we never had any occasion to talk. People fought then for the sake of fighting; and I, for one, know no better reason than that.”
“You are quite right, my friend.”
“However, tell me what the cause is.”
“It is too long a story to tell; only, as one must particularize to some extent-”
“Yes, yes, the devil!- with the new method.”
“As it is necessary, I said, to be specific, and as on the other hand the affair is full of difficulties and requires the most absolute secrecy-”
“Oh! oh!”
“You will have the kindness merely to tell M. de Saint-Aignan that he has insulted me,- in the first place, by changing his lodgings.”
“By changing his lodgings? Good!” said Porthos, who began to count on his fingers; “next?”
“Then, in getting a trap-door made in his new apartments.”
“I understand,” said Porthos; “a trapdoor! Upon my word, this is very serious; you ought to be furious at that. What the deuce does the fellow mean by getting trap-doors made without first consulting you? Trap-doors! Mordioux! I haven’t any, except in my dungeons at Bracieux.”
“And you will add,” said Raoul, “that my last motive for considering myself insulted is the portrait that M. de Saint-Aignan well knows.”
“Is it possible? A portrait too! A change of residence, a trap-door, and a portrait! Why, my dear friend, with but one of those causes of complaint there is enough, and more than enough, for all the gentlemen in France and Spain to cut one another’s throats; and that is saying but very little.”
“Well, my dear friend, you are furnished with all you need, I suppose?”
“I shall take a second horse with me. Select your own rendezvous; and while you are waiting there you can practise some of the best passes, so as to get your limbs as elastic as possible.”
“Thank you. I shall be waiting for you in the wood of Vincennes, close to Minimes.”
“All’s right, then. Where am I to find this M. de Saint-Aignan?”
“At the Palais-Royal.”
Porthos rang a huge hand-bell. “My court suit,” he said to the servant who answered the summons, “my horse, and a led horse to accompany me.” Then turning to Raoul as soon as the servant had quitted the room, he said, “Does your father know anything about this?”
“No; I am going to write to him.”
“And d’Artagnan?”
“No, nor d’Artagnan, either. He is very cautious, you know, and might have diverted me from my purpose.”
“D’Artagnan is a sound adviser, though,” said Porthos, astonished that in his own loyal faith in d’Artagnan any one could have thought of himself so long as there was a d’Artagnan in the world.
“Dear M. du Vallon,” replied Raoul, “do not question me any more, I implore you. I have told you all that I had to say; it is prompt action that I now expect, as sharp and decided as you know how to arrange it. That, indeed, is my reason for having chosen you.”
“You will be satisfied with me,” replied Porthos.
“Do not forget, either, that except ourselves no one must know anything of this meeting.”