Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

could then no longer hesitate. That look was for me — the

order was for me. I cried out instantly, `His Majesty’s

musketeers!’ And, besides, that was shown to be true, sire,

not only by your majesty’s not saying I was wrong, but

proving I was right by going out at once.”

The king turned away to smile; then, after a few seconds, he

again fixed his limpid eye upon that countenance, so

intelligent, so bold, and so firm, that it might have been

said to be the proud and energetic profile of the eagle

facing the sun. “That is all very well,” said he, after a

short silence, during which he endeavored, in vain, to make

his officer lower his eyes.

But seeing the king said no more, the latter pirouetted on

his heels, and took three steps towards the door, muttering,

“He will not speak! Mordioux! he will not speak!”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Thank you, monsieur,” said the king at last.

“Humph!” continued the lieutenant; “there was only wanting

that. Blamed for having been less of a fool than another

might have been.” And he went to the door, allowing his

spurs to jingle in true military style. But when he was on

the threshold, feeling that the king’s desire drew him back,

he returned.

“Has your majesty told me all?” asked he, in a tone we

cannot describe, but which, without appearing to solicit the

royal confidence, contained so much persuasive frankness,

that the king immediately replied:

“Yes, but draw near, monsieur.”

“Now then,” murmured the officer, “he is coming to it at

last.”

“Listen to me.”

“I shall not lose a word, sire.”

“You will mount on horseback to-morrow, at about half-past

four in the morning, and you will have a horse saddled for

me.”

“From your majesty’s stables?”

“No, one of your musketeers’ horses.”

“Very well, sire. Is that all?”

“And you will accompany me.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

“Shall I come to seek your majesty, or shall I wait?”

“You will wait for me.”

“Where, sire?”

“At the little park-gate.”

The lieutenant bowed, understanding that the king had told

him all he had to say. In fact, the king dismissed him with

a gracious wave of the hand. The officer left the chamber of

the king, and returned to place himself philosophically in

his fauteuil, where, far from sleeping, as might have been

expected, considering how late it was, he began to reflect

more deeply than he had ever reflected before. The result of

these reflections was not so melancholy as the preceding

ones had been.

“Come, he has begun,” said he. “Love urges him on, and he

goes forward — he goes forward! The king is nobody in his

own palace; but the man perhaps may prove to be worth

something. Well, we shall see to-morrow morning. Oh! oh!”

cried he, all at once starting up, “that is a gigantic idea,

mordioux! and perhaps my fortune depends, at least, upon

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

that idea!” After this exclamation, the officer arose and

marched, with his hands in the pockets of his justacorps,

about the immense ante-chamber that served him as an

apartment. The wax-light flamed furiously under the effects

of a fresh breeze which stole in through the chinks of the

door and the window, and cut the salle diagonally. It threw

out a reddish, unequal light, sometimes brilliant, sometimes

dull, and the tall shadow of the lieutenant was seen

marching on the wall, in profile, like a figure by Callot,

with his long sword and feathered hat.

“Certainly!” said he, “I am mistaken if Mazarin is not

laying a snare for this amorous boy. Mazarin, this evening,

gave an address, and made an appointment as complacently as

M. Dangeau himself could have done — I heard him, and I

know the meaning of his words. `To-morrow morning,’ said he,

`they will pass opposite the bridge of Blois. Mordioux! that

is clear enough, and particularly for a lover. That is the

cause of this embarrassment; that is the cause of this

hesitation; that is the cause of this order — `Monsieur the

lieutenant of my musketeers, be on horseback to-morrow at

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