Twenty Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

Raoul.

“Faith, sir,” said Raoul, smiling, although his pallor

betrayed the excitement consequent on a first affair, “you

are in a great hurry to pay your debts and have not been

long under any obligation to me. Without your aid,”

continued he, repeating the count’s words “I should have

been a dead man — thrice dead.”

“My antagonist took flight,” replied De Guiche “and left me

at liberty to come to your assistance. But are you seriously

wounded? I see you are covered with blood!”

Page 215

Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

“I believe,” said Raoul, “that I have got something like a

scratch on the arm. If you will help me to drag myself from

under my horse I hope nothing need prevent us continuing our

journey.”

Monsieur d’Arminges and Olivain had already dismounted and

were attempting to raise the struggling horse. At last Raoul

succeeded in drawing his foot from the stirrup and his leg

from under the animal, and in a second he was on his feet

again.

“Nothing broken?” asked De Guiche.

“Faith, no, thank Heaven!” replied Raoul; “but what has

become of the poor wretches whom these scoundrels were

murdering?”

“I fear we arrived too late. They have killed them, I think,

and taken flight, carrying off their booty. My servants are

examining the bodies.”

“Let us go and see whether they are quite dead, or if they

can still be helped,” suggested Raoul. “Olivain, we have

come into possession of two horses, but I have lost my own.

Take for yourself the better of the two and give me yours.”

They approached the spot where the unfortunate victims lay.

31

The Monk.

Two men lay prone upon the ground, one bathed in blood and

motionless, with his face toward the earth; this one was

dead. The other leaned against a tree, supported there by

the two valets, and was praying fervently, with clasped

hands and eyes raised to Heaven. He had received a ball in

his thigh, which had broken the bone. The young men first

approached the dead man.

“He is a priest,” said Bragelonne, “he has worn the tonsure.

Oh, the scoundrels! to lift their hands against a minister

of God.”

“Come here, sir,” said Urban, an old soldier who had served

under the cardinal duke in all his campaigns; “come here,

there is nothing to be done with him, whilst we may perhaps

be able to save the other.”

The wounded man smiled sadly. “Save me! Oh, no!” said he,

“but help me to die, if you can.”

“Are you a priest?” asked Raoul.

“No sir.”

“I ask, as your unfortunate companion appeared to me to

belong to the church.”

“He is the curate of Bethune, sir, and was carrying the holy

Page 216

Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

vessels belonging to his church, and the treasure of the

chapter, to a safe place, the prince having abandoned our

town yesterday; and as it was known that bands of the enemy

were prowling about the country, no one dared to accompany

the good man, so I offered to do so.

“And, sir,” continued the wounded man, “I suffer much and

would like, if possible, to be carried to some house.”

“Where you can be relieved?” asked De Guiche.

“No, where I can confess.”

“But perhaps you are not so dangerously wounded as you

think,” said Raoul.

“Sir,” replied the wounded man, “believe me, there is no

time to lose; the ball has broken the thigh bone and entered

the intestines.”

“Are you a surgeon?” asked De Guiche.

“No, but I know a little about wounds, and mine, I know, is

mortal. Try, therefore, either to carry me to some place

where I may see a priest or take the trouble to send one to

me here. It is my soul that must be saved; as for my body,

it is lost.”

“To die whilst doing a good deed! It is impossible. God will

help you.”

“Gentlemen, in the name of Heaven!” said the wounded man,

collecting all his forces, as if to get up, “let us not lose

time in useless words. Either help me to gain the nearest

village or swear to me on your salvation that you will send

Leave a Reply