all that conversation, “if only his eminence would relent
and grant to Monsieur de la Fere our liberty.”
“I wish it with all my heart,” said Comminges.
“Then, if he should forget that visit, you would find no
inconvenience in reminding him of it?”
“Not at all.”
“Ah, that gives me more confidence.”
This skillful turn of the conversation would have seemed a
sublime manoeuvre to any one who could have read the
Gascon’s soul.
“Now,” said D’Artagnan, “I’ve one last favor to ask of you,
Monsieur de Comminges.”
“At your service, sir.”
“You will see the count again?”
“To-morrow morning.”
“Will you remember us to him and ask him to solicit for me
the same favor that he will have obtained?”
“You want the cardinal to come here?”
“No; I know my place and am not so presumptuous. Let his
eminence do me the honor to give me a hearing; that is all I
want.”
“Oh!” muttered Porthos, shaking his head, “never should I
have thought this of him! How misfortune humbles a man!”
“I promise you it shall be done,” answered De Comminges.
“Tell the count that I am well; that you found me sad, but
resigned.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“I am pleased, sir, to hear that.”
“And the same, also, for Monsieur du Vallon —- ”
“Not for me ,” cried Porthos; “I am not by any means
resigned.”
“But you will be resigned, my friend.”
“Never!”
“He will become so, monsieur; I know him better than he
knows himself. Be silent, dear Du Vallon, and resign
yourself.”
“Adieu, gentlemen,” said De Comminges; “sleep well!”
“We will try.”
De Comminges went away, D’Artagnan remaining apparently in
the same attitude of humble resignation; but scarcely had he
departed when he turned and clasped Porthos in his arms with
an expression not to be doubted.
“Oh!” cried Porthos; “what’s the matter now? Have you gone
mad, my dear friend?”
“What is the matter?” returned D’Artagnan; “we are saved!”
“I don’t see that at all,” answered Porthos. “I think we are
all taken prisoners, except Aramis, and that our chances of
getting out are lessened since one more of us is caught in
Mazarin’s mousetrap.”
“Which is far too strong for two of us, but not strong
enough for three of us,” returned D’Artagnan.
“I don’t understand,” said Porthos.
“Never mind; let’s sit down to table and take something to
strengthen us for the night.”
“What are we to do, then, to-night?”
“To travel — perhaps.”
“But —- ”
“Sit down, dear friend, to table. When one is eating, ideas
flow easily. After supper, when they are perfected, I will
communicate my plans to you.”
So Porthos sat down to table without another word and ate
with an appetite that did honor to the confidence that was
ever inspired in him by D’Artagnan’s inventive imagination.
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Strength and Sagacity — Continued.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
Supper was eaten in silence, but not in sadness; for from
time to time one of those sweet smiles which were habitual
to him in moments of good-humor illumined the face of
D’Artagnan. Not a scintilla of these was lost on Porthos;
and at every one he uttered an exclamation which betrayed to
his friend that he had not lost sight of the idea which
possessed his brain.
At dessert D’Artagnan reposed in his chair, crossed one leg
over the other and lounged about like a man perfectly at his
ease.
Porthos rested his chin on his hands, placed his elbows on
the table and looked at D’Artagnan with an expression of
confidence which imparted to that colossus an admirable
appearance of good-fellowship.
“Well?” said D’Artagnan, at last.
“Well!” repeated Porthos.
“You were saying, my dear friend —- ”
“No; I said nothing.”
“Yes; you were saying you wished to leave this place.”
“Ah, indeed! the will was never wanting.”
“To get away you would not mind, you added, knocking down a
door or a wall.”
“‘Tis true — I said so, and I say it again.”
“And I answered you, Porthos, that it was not a good plan;
that we couldn’t go a hundred steps without being