Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

cardinal is dead. You must contrive to stand well with M.

Fouquet, if you do not wish to molder away all your life as

I have moldered. It is true you have, fortunately, other

protectors.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“M. le Prince, for instance.”

“Worn out! worn out!”

“M. le Comte de la Fere?”

“Athos! Oh! that’s different; yes, Athos — and if you have

any wish to make your way in England, you cannot apply to a

better person; I can even say, without too much vanity, that

I myself have some credit at the court of Charles II. There

is a king — God speed him!”

“Ah!” cried Raoul, with the natural curiosity of well-born

young people, while listening to experience and courage.

“Yes, a king who amuses himself, it is true, but who has had

a sword in his hand, and can appreciate useful men. Athos is

on good terms with Charles II. Take service there, and leave

these scoundrels of contractors and farmers-general, who

steal as well with French hands as others have done with

Italian hands; leave the little snivelling king, who is

going to give us another reign of Francis II. Do you know

anything of history, Raoul?”

“Yes, monsieur le chevalier.”

“Do you know, then, that Francis II. had always the

earache?”

“No, I did not know that.”

“That Charles IV. had always the headache?”

“Indeed!”

“And Henry III. always the stomach-ache?”

Raoul began to laugh.

“Well, my dear friend, Louis XIV. always has the heartache;

it is deplorable to see a king sighing from morning till

night without saying once in course of the day,

ventre-saint-gris! corboeuf! or anything to rouse one.”

“Was that the reason why you quitted the service, monsieur

le chevalier?”

“Yes.”

“But you yourself, M. d’Artagnan, are throwing the handle

after the axe; you will not make a fortune.”

“Who? I?” replied D’Artagnan, in a careless tone; “I am

settled — I had some family property.”

Raoul looked at him. The poverty of D’Artagnan was

proverbial. A Gascon, he exceeded in ill-luck all the

gasconnades of France and Navarre; Raoul had a hundred times

heard Job and D’Artagnan named together, as the twins

Romulus and Remus. D’Artagnan caught Raoul’s look of

astonishment.

“And has not your father told you I have been in England?”

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“Yes, monsieur le chevalier.”

“And that I there met with a very lucky chance?”

“No, monsieur, I did not know that.”

“Yes, a very worthy friend of mine, a great nobleman, the

viceroy of Scotland and Ireland, has endowed me with an

inheritance.”

“An inheritance?”

“And a good one, too.”

“Then you are rich?”

“Bah!”

“Receive my sincere congratulation.”

“Thank you! Look, that is my house.”

“Place de Greve?”

“Yes, don’t you like this quarter?”

“On the contrary, the look-out over the water is pleasant.

Oh! what a pretty old house!”

“The sign Notre Dame; it is an old cabaret, which I have

transformed into a private house in two days.”

“But the cabaret is still open?”

“Pardieu!”

“And where do you lodge, then?

“I? I lodge with Planchet.”

“You said, just now, `This is my house.'”

“I said so, because, in fact, it is my house. I have bought

it.”

“Ah!” said Raoul.

“At ten years’ purchase, my dear Raoul; a superb affair, I

bought the house for thirty thousand livres; it has a garden

which opens to the Rue de la Mortillerie; the cabaret lets

for a thousand livres, with the first story; the garret, or

second floor, for five hundred livres.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Five hundred livres for a garret? Why, it is not

habitable.”

“Therefore no one inhabits it, only, you see this garret has

two windows which look out upon the Place.”

“Yes, monsieur.”

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“Well, then, every time anybody is broken on the wheel or

hung, quartered, or burnt, these two windows let for twenty

pistoles.”

“Oh!” said Raoul, with horror.

“It is disgusting, is it not?” said D’Artagnan.

“Oh!” repeated Raoul.

“It is disgusting, but so it is. These Parisian cockneys are

sometimes real anthropophagi. I cannot conceive how men,

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