Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

D’Artagnan, whose horse, long sword, spurs, and martial air

they very much admired. But above all, they admired his

strong voice; so that, when he uttered his oath, the whole

school cried out, “The devil take me!” with fearful bursts

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of laughter, shouts, and bounds, which delighted the

musketeer, and bewildered the old pedagogue.

“There!” said he, “hold your tongues, you brats! You have

come, M. d’Artagnan, and all my good principles fly away.

With you, as usual, comes disorder. Babel is revived. Ah!

Good Lord! Ah! the wild little wretches!” And the worthy

Bazin distributed right and left blows which increased the

cries of his scholars by changing the nature of them.

“At least,” said he, “you will no longer decoy any one

here.”

“Do you think so?” said D’Artagnan, with a smile which made

a shudder creep over the shoulders of Bazin.

“He is capable of it,” murmured he.

“Where is your master’s diocese?”

“Monseigneur Rene is bishop of Vannes.”

“Who had him nominated?”

“Why, monsieur le surintendant, our neighbor.”

“What! Monsieur Fouquet?”

“To be sure he did.”

“Is Aramis on good terms with him, then?”

“Monseigneur preached every Sunday at the house of monsieur

le surintendant at Vaux; then they hunted together.”

“Ah!”

“And monseigneur composed his homilies — no, I mean his

sermons — with monsieur le surintendant.”

“Bah! he preached in verse, then, this worthy bishop?”

“Monsieur, for the love of heaven, do not jest with sacred

things.”

“There, Bazin, there! So, then, Aramis is at Vannes?”

“At Vannes, in Bretagne.”

“You are a deceitful old hunks, Bazin; that is not true.”

“See, monsieur, if you please; the apartments of the

presbytery are empty.”

“He is right there,” said D’Artagnan, looking attentively at

the house, the aspect of which announced solitude.

“But monseigneur must have written you an account of his

promotion.”

“When did it take place?”

“A month back.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Oh! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet have

wanted me. But how is it, Bazin, you do not follow your

master?”

“Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations.”

“Your alphabet?”

“And my penitents.”

“What, do you confess, then? Are you a priest?”

“The same as one. I have such a call.”

“But the orders?”

“Oh,” said Bazin, without hesitation, “now that monseigneur

is a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least my

dispensations.” And he rubbed his hands.

“Decidedly,” said D’Artagnan to himself, “there will be no

means of uprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin.”

“With pleasure, monsieur.”

“A fowl, a bouillon, and a bottle of wine.”

“This is Saturday, monsieur — it is a day of abstinence.”

“I have a dispensation,” said D’Artagnan.

Bazin looked at him suspiciously.

“Ah, ah, master hypocrite!” said the musketeer, “for whom do

you take me? If you, who are the valet, hope for

dispensation to commit a crime, shall not I, the friend of

your bishop, have dispensation for eating meat at the call

of my stomach? Make yourself agreeable with me, Bazin, or,

by heavens! I will complain to the king, and you shall never

confess. Now you know that the nomination of bishops rests

with the king — I have the king, I am the stronger.”

Bazin smiled hypocritically. “Ah, but we have monsieur le

surintendant,” said he.

“And you laugh at the king, then?”

Bazin made no reply; his smile was sufficiently eloquent.

“My supper,” said D’Artagnan, “it is getting towards seven

o’clock.”

Bazin turned round and ordered the eldest of the pupils to

inform the cook. In the meantime, D’Artagnan surveyed the

presbytery.

“Phew!” said he, disdainfully, “monseigneur lodged his

grandeur very meanly here.”

“We have the Chateau de Vaux,” said Bazin.

“Which is perhaps equal to the Louvre?” said D’Artagnan,

jeeringly.

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Which is better,” replied Bazin, with the greatest coolness

imaginable.

“Ah, ah!” said D’Artagnan.

He would perhaps have prolonged the discussion, and

maintained the superiority of the Louvre, but the lieutenant

perceived that his horse remained fastened to the bars of a

gate.

“The devil!” said he. “Get my horse looked after; your

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