Belle-Isle?”
“Is that possible?” asked D’Artagnan.
“Yes, with permission of the governor.”
“But I do not know the governor.”
“As you know M. Fouquet, you can tell your name.”
“Oh, my friends, I am not a gentleman.”
“Everybody enters Belle-Isle,” continued the fisherman in
his strong, pure language, “provided he means no harm to
Belle-Isle or its master.”
A slight shudder crept over the body of the musketeer.
“That is true,” thought he. Then recovering himself, “If I
were sure,” said he, “not to be sea-sick.”
“What, upon her?” said the fisherman, pointing with pride to
his pretty round-bottomed bark.
“Well, you almost persuade me,” cried M. Agnan; “I will go
and see Belle-Isle, but they will not admit me.”
“We shall enter, safe enough.”
“You! What for?”
“Why, dame! to sell fish to the corsairs.”
“Ha! Corsairs — what do you mean?”
“Well, I mean that M. Fouquet is having two corsairs built
to chase the Dutch and the English, and we sell our fish to
the crews of those little vessels.”
“Come, come!” said D’Artagnan to himself — “better and
better. A printing-press, bastions, and corsairs! Well, M.
Fouquet is not an enemy to be despised, as I presumed to
fancy. He is worth the trouble of traveling to see him
nearer.”
“We set out at half-past five,” said the fisherman gravely.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
“I am quite ready, and I will not leave you now.” So
D’Artagnan saw the fishermen haul their barks to meet the
tide with a windlass. The sea rose, M. Agnan allowed himself
to be hoisted on board, not without sporting a little fear
and awkwardness, to the amusement of the young beach-urchins
who watched him with their large intelligent eyes. He laid
himself down upon a folded sail, not interfering with
anything whilst the bark prepared for sea; and, with its
large, square sail, it was fairly out within two hours. The
fishermen, who prosecuted their occupation as they
proceeded, did not perceive that their passenger had not
become pale, neither groaned nor suffered; that in spite of
that horrible tossing and rolling of the bark, to which no
hand imparted direction, the novice passenger had preserved
his presence of mind and his appetite. They fished, and
their fishing was sufficiently fortunate. To lines bated
with prawn, soles came, with numerous gambols, to bite. Two
nets had already been broken by the immense weight of
congers and haddocks; three sea-eels plowed the hold with
their slimy folds and their dying contortions. D’Artagnan
brought them good luck; they told him so. The soldier found
the occupation so pleasant, that he put his hand to the work
— that is to say, to the lines — and uttered roars of joy,
and mordioux enough to have astonished his musketeers
themselves every time that a shock given to his line by the
captured fish required the play of the muscles of his arm,
and the employment of his best dexterity. The party of
pleasure had made him forget his diplomatic mission. He was
struggling with a very large conger, and holding fast with
one hand to the side of the vessel, in order to seize with
the other the gaping jowl of his antagonist, when the master
said to him, “Take care they don’t see you from Belle-Isle!”
These words produced the same effect upon D’Artagnan as the
hissing of the first bullet on a day of battle; he let go of
both line and conger, which, dragging each other, returned
again to the water. D’Artagnan perceived, within half a
league at most, the blue and marked profile of the rocks of
Belle-Isle, dominated by the majestic whiteness of the
castle. In the distance, the land with its forests and
verdant plains; cattle on the grass. This was what first
attracted the attention of the musketeer. The sun darted its
rays of gold upon the sea, raising a shining mist round this
enchanted isle. Little could be seen of it, owing to this
dazzling light, but the salient points; every shadow was
strongly marked, and cut with bands of darkness the luminous
fields and walls. “Eh! eh!” said D’Artagnan, at the aspect