confused, for her ill-arranged
plans clashed one another like chaos. She required to be alone that she
might put her thoughts a little into order. She saw vaguely the future;
but she stood in need of a little silence and quiet to give all her
ideas, as yet confused, a distinct form and a regular plan.

What was most pressing was to get Mme. Bonacieux away, and convey her to
a place of safety, and there, if matters required, make her a hostage.
Milady began to have doubts of the issue of this terrible duel, in which
her enemies showed as much perseverance as she did animosity.

Besides, she felt as we feel when a storm is coming on--that this issue
was near, and could not fail to be terrible.

The principal thing for her, then, was, as we have said, to keep Mme.
Bonacieux in her power. Mme. Bonacieux was the very life of d'Artagnan.
This was more than his life, the life of the woman he loved; this
was, in case of ill fortune, a means of temporizing and obtaining good
conditions.

Now, this point was settled; Mme. Bonacieux, without any suspicion,
accompanied her. Once concealed with her at Armentieres, it would be
easy to make her believe that d'Artagnan had not come to Bethune. In
fifteen days at most, Rochefort would be back; besides, during that
fifteen days she would have time to think how she could best avenge
herself on the four friends. She would not be weary, thank God! for she
should enjoy the sweetest pastime such events could accord a woman of
her character--perfecting a beautiful vengeance.

Revolving all this in her mind, she cast her eyes around her, and
arranged the topography of the garden in her head. Milady was like a
good general who contemplates at the same time victory and defeat, and
who is quite prepared, according to the chances of the battle, to march
forward or to beat a retreat.

At the end of an hour she heard a soft voice calling her; it was Mme.
Bonacieux's. The good abbess had naturally consented to her request; and
as a commencement, they were to sup together.

On reaching the courtyard, they heard the noise of a carriage which
stopped at the gate.

Milady listened.

"Do you hear anything?" said she.

"Yes, the rolling of a carriage."

"It is the one my brother sends for us."

"Oh, my God!"

"Come, come! courage!"

The bell of the convent gate was sounded; Milady was not mistaken.

"Go to your chamber," said she to Mme. Bonacieux; "you have perhaps some
jewels you would