CHAPTER THREE

MILADY MEETS THE UNKNOWN AND RECEIVES INSTRUCTIONS

The gentleman returned to his room and watched the crowd from the window with impatience. He was clearly annoyed at their not going away.

"Well, how is this madman?" he demanded of the innkeeper, who had come to enquire whether his guest had been hurt.

"I hope your Excellency is safe and sound?" he asked.

"Oh, yes! Perfectly safe and sound. What has become of the young fool?"

"He is better," said the innkeeper. "He only fainted."

"Indeed!" said the gentleman.

"But before he fainted, he gathered all his strength to challenge you, and to defy you. He said that if such a thing had happened in Paris you would quickly have repented of it."

"Then," said the gentleman coolly, "he must be a prince in disguise. Did he mention anybody's name in his anger?"

"Yes. He struck his pocket and said, 'We shall see what M. de Treville will think of this insult offered to his protégé.'"

"M. de Treville?" said the unknown, becoming attentive. "He put his hand upon his pocket while pronouncing the name of M. de Treville! Now, my dear man, while the young man was insensible, surely you did not fail to find out what was in the pocket. What was there in it?"

"A letter addressed to M. de Treville, Captain of the Musketeers."

"I wonder if Treville can have set this young Gascon on to me?" murmured the man to himself. "He is very young, but a sword-thrust is a sword-thrust whatever may be the age of him who gives it. Besides, a youth is less to be suspected than an older man."

He remained in deep thought for some moments.

"Could you not manage to get rid of this mad boy for me?" he said. "In truth I cannot kill him, and yet he annoys me. Where is he?"

"In a room on the first floor where his wounds are being dressed."

"Are his things and his bag with him? Has he taken off his doublet?"

"Everything is in the kitchen. But if he annoys you, this young fool—!"

"Most certainly he does. He causes a disturbance at your inn and respectable people do not like it. Go, make out my bill, and inform my servant."

"What, Excellency, will you leave us so soon?"

"You knew that I was going as I had already given orders for my horse to be saddled. Have they not been obeyed?"

"Your orders have been carried out. As your Excellency may have noticed, your horse is in the gateway already saddled."

"Get my bill then."

At a commanding glance from the gentleman, the innkeeper bowed humbly and left the room.

"It is unnecessary for Milady to be seen by this fellow," muttered the stranger to himself. "She will soon be here. She is already late. I had better get on horseback and go to meet her, but I should like to know what is in this letter addressed to M. de Treville." He then walked slowly towards the kitchen.

In the meantime the innkeeper had gone up to D'Artagnan, where he found him just recovering consciousness. Telling him that the police would deal with him severely for having quarrelled with a great lord—the unknown could be nothing less than a great lord—he insisted that D'Artagnan should go as quickly as possible. Still only half-conscious, and with his head bandaged, D'Artagnan went downstairs to a room on the ground floor. Then, as he looked from the window, he saw the unknown gentleman talking calmly to someone in a carriage drawn by two fine horses.

The person to whom he was speaking could be seen clearly through the carriage window. It was a lady of about twenty-two years of age. D'Artagnan saw at a glance that this young woman was beautiful. She was pale and fair, with long curls falling over her shoulders. Her eyes were large, blue, and dreamy; her lips rosy, and her hands soft and white. She was talking in an excited manner with the unknown.

"His Eminence, then, orders me—?" said the lady.

"To return instantly to England and inform him immediately the Duke of Buckingham leaves London."

"And with regard to my other instructions?" asked the fair traveller.

"They are contained in this box which you will not open until you have reached England."

"Very well; and you? What are you going to do?"

"I shall return to Paris."

"What! Are you not first going to punish this insolent boy?" asked the lady.

Just as the unknown was about to reply, D'Artagnan, who had overheard, rushed out.

"This insolent boy punishes others," cried he," and I hope that this time he whom he ought to punish will not escape him as before."

"Will not escape him?" replied the unknown, frowning.

"No. Before a woman you would not dare to run away, I presume."

"Remember," said Milady to the unknown as he placed his hand on his sword, "remember that the least delay may ruin everything."

"You are right," cried the gentleman. "Go, then, on your way and I will go as quickly as I can on mine."

He bowed to the lady and then sprang into his saddle. Her carriage was driven off immediately. The two speakers thus separated, taking opposite directions as fast as they could.

"Your bill!" shouted the innkeeper, whose opinion of the traveller changed on seeing him depart without settling his account.

"Pay him!" cried the unknown to his servant. The man threw several silver pieces to the innkeeper and galloped after his master.

"Coward! False gentleman!" cried D'Artagnan, springing forward. His wound, however, had so weakened him that he had scarcely gone ten steps before a faintness overcame him and he fell in the street, still crying, "Coward! Coward!"

"He is indeed a coward," agreed the innkeeper, thinking that a little flattery would not do any harm.

"Yes, a coward," murmured D'Artagnan, "but she—she was very beautiful."

"What she?" asked the innkeeper.

"Milady," whispered D'Artagnan, just as he fainted again.