“Not one word more on my account,” said Raoul, “but advice to you, dear friend; what I am going to say to you is of much greater importance.”
“What is that?”
“Without doubt, you risk much more than I do, because you are loved.”
“Oh!”
“It is a joy so sweet to me to be able to speak to you thus! Well, then, De Guiche, beware of Montalais.”
“What! of that kind friend?”
“She was the friend of- her you know of. She ruined her by pride.”
“You are mistaken.”
“And now, when she has ruined her, she would take from her the only thing that renders that woman excusable in my eyes.”
“What is that?”
“Her love.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that there is a plot formed against her who is the mistress of the King,- a plot formed in the very house of Madame.”
“Can you think so?”
“I am certain of it.”
“By Montalais?”
“Take her as the least dangerous of the enemies I dread for- the other.”
“Explain yourself clearly, my friend; and if I can understand you-”
“In two words,- Madame has been jealous of the King.”
“I know she has-”
“Oh, fear nothing! you are beloved,- you are beloved, Guiche; do you feel the value of these three words? They signify that you can raise your head, that you can sleep tranquilly, that you can thank God every minute of your life. You are beloved; that signifies that you may hear everything,- even the counsel of a friend who wishes to preserve your happiness. You are beloved, Guiche, you are beloved! You do not endure those atrocious nights, those nights without end, which, with arid eye and consumed heart, others pass through who are destined to die. You will live long if you act like the miser who, bit by bit, crumb by crumb, collects and heaps up diamonds and gold. You are beloved! allow me to tell you what you must do that you may be beloved forever.”
De Guiche contemplated for some time this unfortunate young man, half mad with despair, till there passed through his heart something like remorse at his own happiness. Raoul suppressed his feverish excitement to assume the voice and countenance of an impassive man. “They will make her whose name I should wish still to be able to pronounce,- they will make her suffer. Swear to me not only that you will not second them in anything, but that you will defend her, when possible, as I would have done myself.”
“I swear I will!” replied De Guiche.
“And,” continued Raoul, “some day when you shall have rendered her a great service, some day when she shall thank you, promise me to say these words to her: ‘I have done you this kindness, Madame, by the warm desire of M. de Bragelonne, whom you so deeply injured.'”
“I swear I will!” murmured De Guiche.
“That is all; adieu! I set out to-morrow or the day after for Toulon; if you have a few hours to spare, give them to me.”
“All! all!” cried the young man.
“Thank you.”
“And what are you going to do now?”
“I am going to meet Monsieur the Count at the house of Planchet, where we shall hope to find M. d’Artagnan.”
“M. d’Artagnan?”
“Yes; I wish to embrace him before my departure. He is a brave man, who loves me. Farewell, my friend. You are expected, no doubt; you will find me, when you wish, at the lodgings of the count. Farewell!”
The two young men embraced. They who might have seen them both thus would not have hesitated to say, pointing to Raoul, “That is the happy man!”
Chapter LVII: Planchet’s Inventory
ATHOS, during the visit to the Luxembourg by Raoul, had gone to Planchet’s residence to inquire after d’Artagnan. On arriving at the Rue des Lombards he found the shop of the grocer in great confusion; but it was not the confusion attending a lucky sale, or that of an arrival of goods. Planchet was not throned, as usual, upon sacks and barrels. No; a young man with a pen behind his ear, and another with an account-book in his hand, were setting down a number of figures, while a third counted and weighed. An inventory was being taken. Athos, who had no knowledge of commercial matters, felt himself a little embarrassed by the material obstacles and the majesty of those who were thus employed. He saw several customers sent away, and asked himself whether he, who came to buy nothing, would not be more properly deemed importunate. He therefore asked very politely if he could see M. Planchet. The reply, pretty carelessly given, was that M. Planchet was packing his trunks. These words surprised Athos. “How! his trunks?” said he; “is M. Planchet going away?”