evening,’ said the other; and that applies very well to
you.”
“What else?”
“Then the prince said: `Take notice that in all probability
he will be disguised as a cavalier;’ which seems to me to
leave no room for doubt, since you are dressed as a cavalier
and not as an officer of musketeers. Now then, what do you
say to that?”
“Alas! my dear Planchet,” said D’Artagnan, sighing, “we are
unfortunately no longer in those times in which princes
would care to assassinate me. Those were good old days;
never fear — these people owe us no grudge.”
“Is your honor sure?”
“I can answer for it they do not.”
“Well, we won’t speak of it any more, then;” and Planchet
took his place in D’Artagnan’s suite with that sublime
confidence he had always had in his master, which even
fifteen years of separation had not destroyed.
They had traveled onward about half a mile when Planchet
came close up to D’Artagnan.
“Stop, sir, look yonder,” he whispered; “don’t you see in
the darkness something pass by, like shadows? I fancy I hear
horses’ feet.”
“Impossible!” returned D’Artagnan. “The ground is soaking
wet; yet I fancy, as thou sayest, that I see something.”
At this moment the neighing of a horse struck his ear,
coming through darkness and space.
“There are men somewhere about, but that’s of no consequence
to us,” said D’Artagnan; “let us ride onward.”
At about half-past eight o’clock they reached the first
houses in Noisy; every one was in bed and not a light was to
be seen in the village. The obscurity was broken only now
and then by the still darker lines of the roofs of houses.
Here and there a dog barked behind a door or an affrighted
cat fled precipitately from the midst of the pavement to
take refuge behind a pile of faggots, from which retreat her
eyes would shine like peridores. These were the only living
creatures that seemed to inhabit the village.
Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open
space, rose a dark mass, separated from the rest of the
world by two lanes and overshadowed in the front by enormous
lime-trees. D’Artagnan looked attentively at the building.
“This,” he said to Planchet, “must be the archbishop’s
chateau, the abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but
the convent, where is that?”
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“The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the
village; I know it well.”
“Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my
horse’s girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light
in any of the Jesuits’ windows.”
In about five minutes Planchet returned.
“Sir,” he said, “there is one window of the convent lighted
up.”
“Hem! If I were a `Frondeur,'” said D’Artagnan, “I should
knock here and should be sure of a good supper. If I were a
monk I should knock yonder and should have a good supper
there, too; whereas, ’tis very possible that between the
castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds, dying
with hunger and thirst.”
“Yes,” added Planchet, “like the famous ass of Buridan.
Shall I knock?”
“Hush!” replied D’Artagnan; “the light no longer burns in
yonder window.”
“Do you hear nothing?” whispered Planchet.
“What is that noise?”
There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two
troops of horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth
from each of the lanes which encompassed the house and
surrounded D’Artagnan and Planchet.
“Heyday!” cried D’Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking
refuge behind his horse; “are you not mistaken? is it really
for us that you mean your attack?”
“Here he is! we have him!” cried the horsemen, rushing on
D’Artagnan with naked swords.
“Don’t let him escape!” said a loud voice.
“No, my lord; be assured we shall not.”
D’Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the
conversation.
“Halloo, gentlemen!” he called out in his Gascon accent,
“what do you want? what do you demand?”
“That thou shalt soon know,” shouted a chorus of horsemen.
“Stop, stop!” cried he whom they had addressed as “my lord;”