Twenty Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

not to know —- ”

“Tell us what,” returned D’Artagnan, “but first put a napkin

against the window and draw the curtains.”

“Sir,” said the prudent Planchet, “in the first place, are

you on good terms with Monsieur de Rochefort?”

“Perfectly; one of my dearest friends.”

“Ah! so much the better!”

“But what has De Rochefort to do with this manner you have

of invading my room?”

“Ah, sir! I must first tell you that Monsieur de Rochefort

is —- ”

Planchet hesitated.

“Egad, I know where he is,” said D’Artagnan. “He’s in the

Bastile.”

“That is to say, he was there,” replied Planchet. “But in

returning thither last night, when fortunately you did not

accompany him, as his carriage was crossing the Rue de la

Ferronnerie his guards insulted the people, who began to

abuse them. The prisoner thought this a good opportunity for

escape; he called out his name and cried for help. I was

there. I heard the name of Rochefort. I remembered him well.

I said in a loud voice that he was a prisoner, a friend of

the Duc de Beaufort, who called for help. The people were

infuriated; they stopped the horses and cut the escort to

pieces, whilst I opened the doors of the carriage and

Monsieur de Rochefort jumped out and soon was lost amongst

the crowd. At this moment a patrol passed by. I was obliged

to sound a retreat toward the Rue Tiquetonne; I was pursued

and took refuge in the house next to this, where I have been

concealed between two mattresses. This morning I ventured to

run along the gutters and —- ”

“Well,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “I am delighted that De

Rochefort is free, but as for thee, if thou shouldst fall

into the hands of the king’s servants they will hang thee

without mercy. Nevertheless, I promise thee thou shalt be

hidden here, though I risk by concealing thee neither more

nor less than my lieutenancy, if it was found out that I

gave one rebel an asylum.”

“Ah! sir, you know well I would risk my life for you.”

“Thou mayst add that thou hast risked it, Planchet. I have

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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After

not forgotten all I owe thee. Sit down there and eat in

security. I see thee cast expressive glances at the remains

of my supper.”

“Yes, sir; for all I’ve had since yesterday was a slice of

bread and butter, with preserves on it. Although I don’t

despise sweet things in proper time and place, I found the

supper rather light.”

“Poor fellow!” said D’Artagnan. “Well, come; set to.”

“Ah, sir, you are going to save my life a second time!”

cried Planchet.

And he seated himself at the table and ate as he did in the

merry days of the Rue des Fossoyeurs, whilst D’Artagnan

walked to and fro and thought how he could make use of

Planchet under present circumstances. While he turned this

over in his mind Planchet did his best to make up for lost

time at table. At last he uttered a sigh of satisfaction and

paused, as if he had partially appeased his hunger.

“Come,” said D’Artagnan, who thought that it was now a

convenient time to begin his interrogations, “dost thou know

where Athos is?”

“No, sir,” replied Planchet.

“The devil thou dost not! Dost know where Porthos is?”

“No — not at all.”

“And Aramis?”

“Not in the least.”

“The devil! the devil! the devil!”

“But, sir,” said Planchet, with a look of shrewdness, “I

know where Bazin is.”

“Where is he?”

“At Notre Dame.”

“What has he to do at Notre Dame?”

“He is beadle.”

“Bazin beadle at Notre Dame! He must know where his master

is!”

“Without a doubt he must.”

D’Artagnan thought for a moment, then took his sword and put

on his cloak to go out.

“Sir,” said Planchet, in a mournful tone, “do you abandon me

thus to my fate? Think, if I am found out here, the people

of the house, who have not seen me enter it, will take me

for a thief.”

“True,” said D’Artagnan. “Let’s see. Canst thou speak any

patois?”

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