Twenty Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

Bazin obeyed, fastened to the end of a cord the three

articles designated and let them down to Planchet, who then

went satisfied to his shed.

“Now to supper,” said Aramis.

The two friends sat down and Aramis began to cut up fowls,

partridges and hams with admirable skill.

“The deuce!” cried D’Artagnan; “do you live in this way

always?”

“Yes, pretty well. The coadjutor has given me dispensations

from fasting on the jours maigres, on account of my health;

then I have engaged as my cook the cook who lived with

Lafollone — you know the man I mean? — the friend of the

cardinal, and the famous epicure whose grace after dinner

used to be, `Good Lord, do me the favor to cause me to

digest what I have eaten.'”

“Nevertheless he died of indigestion, in spite of his

grace,” said D’Artagnan.

“What can you expect?” replied Aramis, in a tone of

resignation. “Every man that’s born must fulfil his

destiny.”

“If it be not an indelicate question,” resumed D’Artagnan,

“have you grown rich?”

“Oh, Heaven! no. I make about twelve thousand francs a year,

without counting a little benefice of a thousand crowns the

prince gave me.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

“And how do you make your twelve thousand francs? By your

poems?”

“No, I have given up poetry, except now and then to write a

drinking song, some gay sonnet or some innocent epigram; I

compose sermons, my friend.”

“What! sermons? Do you preach them?”

“No; I sell them to those of my cloth who wish to become

great orators.”

“Ah, indeed! and you have not been tempted by the hopes of

reputation yourself?”

“I should, my dear D’Artagnan, have been so, but nature said

`No.’ When I am in the pulpit, if by chance a pretty woman

looks at me, I look at her again: if she smiles, I smile

too. Then I speak at random; instead of preaching about the

torments of hell I talk of the joys of Paradise. An event

took place in the Church of St. Louis au Marais. A gentleman

laughed in my face. I stopped short to tell him that he was

a fool; the congregation went out to get stones to stone me

with, but whilst they were away I found means to conciliate

the priests who were present, so that my foe was pelted

instead of me. ‘Tis true that he came the next morning to my

house, thinking that he had to do with an abbe — like all

other abbes.”

“And what was the end of the affair?”

“We met in the Place Royale — Egad! you know about it.”

“Was I not your second?” cried D’Artagnan.

“You were; you know how I settled the matter.”

“Did he die?”

“I don’t know. But, at all events, I gave him absolution in

articulo mortis. ‘Tis enough to kill the body, without

killing the soul.”

Bazin made a despairing sign which meant that while perhaps

he approved the moral he altogether disapproved the tone in

which it was uttered.

“Bazin, my friend,” said Aramis, “you don’t seem to be aware

that I can see you in that mirror, and you forget that once

for all I have forbidden all signs of approbation or

disapprobation. You will do me the favor to bring us some

Spanish wine and then to withdraw. Besides, my friend

D’Artagnan has something to say to me privately, have you

not, D’Artagnan?”

D’Artagnan nodded his head and Bazin retired, after placing

on the table the Spanish wine.

The two friends, left alone, remained silent, face to face.

Aramis seemed to await a comfortable digestion; D’Artagnan,

to be preparing his exordium. Each of them, when the other

was not looking, hazarded a sly glance. It was Aramis who

broke the silence.

Page 72

Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

“What are you thinking of, D’Artagnan?” he began.

“I was thinking, my dear old friend, that when you were a

musketeer you turned your thoughts incessantly to the

church, and now that you are an abbe you are perpetually

longing to be once more a musketeer.”

“‘Tis true; man, as you know,” said Aramis, “is a strange

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