animal, made up of contradictions. Since I became an abbe I
dream of nothing but battles.”
“That is apparent in your surroundings; you have rapiers
here of every form and to suit the most exacting taste. Do
you still fence well?”
“I — I fence as well as you did in the old time — better
still, perhaps; I do nothing else all day.”
“And with whom?”
“With an excellent master-at-arms that we have here.”
“What! here?”
Yes, here, in this convent, my dear fellow. There is
everything in a Jesuit convent.”
“Then you would have killed Monsieur de Marsillac if he had
come alone to attack you, instead of at the head of twenty
men?”
“Undoubtedly,” said Aramis, “and even at the head of his
twenty men, if I could have drawn without being recognized.”
“God pardon me!” said D’Artagnan to himself, “I believe he
has become more Gascon than I am!” Then aloud: “Well, my
dear Aramis, do you ask me why I came to seek you?”
“No, I have not asked you that,” said Aramis, with his
subtle manner; “but I have expected you to tell me.”
“Well, I sought you for the single purpose of offering you a
chance to kill Monsieur de Marsillac whenever you please,
prince though he is.”
“Hold on! wait!” said Aramis; “that is an idea!”
“Of which I invite you to take advantage, my friend. Let us
see; with your thousand crowns from the abbey and the twelve
thousand francs you make by selling sermons, are you rich?
Answer frankly.”
“I? I am as poor as Job, and were you to search my pockets
and my boxes I don’t believe you would find a hundred
pistoles.”
“Peste! a hundred pistoles!” said D’Artagnan to himself; “he
calls that being as poor as Job! If I had them I should
think myself as rich as Croesus.” Then aloud: “Are you
ambitious?”
“As Enceladus.”
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“Well, my friend, I bring you the means of becoming rich,
powerful, and free to do whatever you wish.”
The shadow of a cloud passed over Aramis’s face as quickly
as that which in August passes over the field of grain; but
quick as it was, it did not escape D’Artagnan’s observation.
“Speak on,” said Aramis.
“One question first. Do you take any interest in politics?”
A gleam of light shone in Aramis’s eyes, as brief as the
shadow that had passed over his face, but not so brief but
that it was seen by D’Artagnan.
“No,” Aramis replied.
“Then proposals from any quarter will be agreeable to you,
since for the moment you have no master but God?”
“It is possible.”
“Have you, my dear Aramis, thought sometimes of those happy,
happy, happy days of youth we passed laughing, drinking, and
fighting each other for play?”
“Certainly, and more than once regretted them; it was indeed
a glorious time.”
“Well, those splendidly wild days may chance to come again;
I am commissioned to find out my companions and I began by
you, who were the very soul of our society.”
Aramis bowed, rather with respect than pleasure at the
compliment.
“To meddle in politics,” he exclaimed, in a languid voice,
leaning back in his easy-chair. “Ah! dear D’Artagnan! see
how regularly I live and how easy I am here. We have
experienced the ingratitude of `the great,’ as you well
know.”
“‘Tis true,” replied D’Artagnan. “Yet the great sometimes
repent of their ingratitude.”
“In that case it would be quite another thing. Come! let’s
be merciful to every sinner! Besides, you are right in
another respect, which is in thinking that if we were to
meddle in politics there could not be a better time than the
present.”
“How can you know that? You who never interest yourself in
politics?”
“Ah! without caring about them myself, I live among those
who are much occupied in them. Poet as I am, I am intimate
with Sarazin, who is devoted to the Prince de Conti, and
with Monsieur de Bois-Robert, who, since the death of
Cardinal Richelieu, is of all parties or any party; so that
political discussions have not altogether been uninteresting
to me.”