into confusion and re-entered Charenton flying. The
coadjutor, dragged along with his fugitive forces, passed
near the group formed by Athos, Raoul and Aramis. Aramis
could not in his jealousy avoid being pleased at the
coadjutor’s misfortune, and was about to utter some bon mot
more witty than correct, when Athos stopped him.
“On, on!” he cried, “this is no moment for compliments; or
rather, back, for the battle seems to be lost by the
Frondeurs.”
“It is a matter of indifference to me,” said Aramis; “I came
here only to meet De Chatillon; I have met him, I am
contented; ’tis something to have met De Chatillon in a
duel!”
“And besides, we have a prisoner,” said Athos, pointing to
Raoul.
The three cavaliers continued their road on full gallop.
“What were you doing in the battle, my friend?” inquired
Athos of the youth; “’twas not your right place, I think, as
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you were not equipped for an engagement!”
“I had no intention of fighting to-day, sir; I was charged,
indeed, with a mission to the cardinal and had set out for
Rueil, when, seeing Monsieur de Chatillon charge, an
invincible desire possessed me to charge at his side. It was
then that he told me two cavaliers of the Parisian army were
seeking me and named the Comte de la Fere.”
“What! you knew we were there and yet wished to kill your
friend the chevalier?”
“I did not recognize the chevalier in armor, sir!” said
Raoul, blushing; “though I might have known him by his skill
and coolness in danger.”
“Thank you for the compliment, my young friend,” replied
Aramis, “we can see from whom you learned courtesy. Then you
were going to Rueil?”
“Yes! I have a despatch from the prince to his eminence.”
“You must still deliver it,” said Athos.
“No false generosity, count! the fate of our friends, to say
nothing of our own, is perhaps in that very despatch.”
“This young man must not, however, fail in his duty,” said
Athos.
“In the first place, count, this youth is our prisoner; you
seem to forget that. What I propose to do is fair in war;
the vanquished must not be dainty in the choice of means.
Give me the despatch, Raoul.”
The young man hesitated and looked at Athos as if seeking to
read in his eyes a rule of conduct.
“Give him the despatch, Raoul! you are the chevalier’s
prisoner.”
Raoul gave it up reluctantly; Aramis instantly seized and
read it.
“You,” he said, “you, who are so trusting, read and reflect
that there is something in this letter important for us to
see.”
Athos took the letter, frowning, but an idea that he should
find something in this letter about D’Artagnan conquered his
unwillingness to read it.
“My lord, I shall send this evening to your eminence in
order to reinforce the troop of Monsieur de Comminges, the
ten men you demand. They are good soldiers, fit to confront
the two violent adversaries whose address and resolution
your eminence is fearful of.”
“Oh!” cried Athos.
“Well,” said Aramis, “what think you about these two enemies
whom it requires, besides Comminges’s troop, ten good
soldiers to confront; are they not as like as two drops of
water to D’Artagnan and Porthos?”
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“We’ll search Paris all day long,” said Athos, “and if we
have no news this evening we will return to the road to
Picardy; and I feel no doubt that, thanks to D’Artagnan’s
ready invention, we shall then find some clew which will
solve our doubts.”
“Yes, let us search Paris and especially inquire of Planchet
if he has yet heard from his former master.”
“That poor Planchet! You speak of him very much at your
ease, Aramis; he has probably been killed. All those
fighting citizens went out to battle and they have been
massacred.”
It was, then, with a sentiment of uneasiness whether
Planchet, who alone could give them information, was alive
or dead, that the friends returned to the Place Royale; to
their great surprise they found the citizens still encamped
there, drinking and bantering each other, although,