master the bishop has none like him in his stables.”
Bazin cast a sidelong glance at the horse, and replied,
“Monsieur le surintendant gave him four from his own
stables; and each of the four is worth four of yours.”
The blood mounted to the face of D’Artagnan. His hand itched
and his eye glanced over the head of Bazin, to select the
place upon which he should discharge his anger. But it
passed away; reflection came, and D’Artagnan contented
himself with saying, —
“The devil! the devil! I have done well to quit the service
of the king. Tell me, worthy Master Bazin,” added he, “how
many musketeers does monsieur le surintendant retain in his
service?”
“He could have all there are in the kingdom with his money,”
replied Bazin, closing his book, and dismissing the boys
with some kindly blows of his cane.
“The devil! the devil!” repeated D’Artagnan, once more, as
if to annoy the pedagogue. But as supper was now announced,
he followed the cook, who introduced him into the refectory,
where it awaited him. D’Artagnan placed himself at the
table, and began a hearty attack upon his fowl.
“It appears to me,” said D’Artagnan, biting with all his
might at the tough fowl they had served up to him, and which
they had evidently forgotten to fatten, — “it appears that
I have done wrong in not seeking service with that master
yonder. A powerful noble this intendant, seemingly! In good
truth, we poor fellows know nothing at the court, and the
rays of the sun prevent our seeing the large stars, which
are also suns, at a little greater distance from our earth,
— that is all.”
As D’Artagnan delighted, both from pleasure and system, in
making people talk about things which interested him, he
fenced in his best style with Master Bazin, but it was pure
loss of time; beyond the tiresome and hyperbolical praises
of monsieur le surintendant of the finances, Bazin, who, on
his side, was on his guard, afforded nothing but platitudes
to the curiosity of D’Artagnan, so that our musketeer, in a
tolerably bad humor, desired to go to bed as soon as he had
supped. D’Artagnan was introduced by Bazin into a mean
chamber, in which there was a poor bed; but D’Artagnan was
not fastidious in that respect. He had been told that Aramis
had taken away the key of his own private apartment, and as
he knew Aramis was a very particular man, and had generally
many things to conceal in his apartment, he had not been
surprised. He, therefore, although it appeared comparatively
even harder, attacked the bed as bravely as he had done the
Page 108
Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
fowl; and, as he had as good an inclination to sleep as he
had had to eat, he took scarcely longer time to be snoring
harmoniously than he had employed in picking the last bones
of the bird.
Since he was no longer in the service of any one, D’Artagnan
had promised himself to indulge in sleeping as soundly as he
had formerly slept lightly; but with whatever good faith
D’Artagnan had made himself this promise, and whatever
desire he might have to keep it religiously, he was awakened
in the middle of the night by a loud noise of carriages, and
servants on horseback. A sudden illumination flashed over
the walls of his chamber; he jumped out of bed and ran to
the window in his shirt. “Can the king be coming this way?”
he thought, rubbing his eyes; “in truth, such a suite can
only be attached to royalty.”
“Vive monsieur le surintendant!” cried, or rather
vociferated, from a window on the ground-floor, a voice
which he recognized as Bazin’s, who at the same time waved a
handkerchief with one hand, and held a large candle in the
other. D’Artagnan then saw something like a brilliant human
form leaning out of the principal carriage; at the same time
loud bursts of laughter, caused, no doubt, by the strange
figure of Bazin, and issuing from the same carriage, left,
as it were, a train of joy upon the passage of the rapid