Athos.
"I shall," replied d'Artagnan, "and instantly."
"In truth, my young friend, you will act rightly," said the gentleman,
pressing the Gascon's hand with an affection almost paternal; "and God
grant that this woman, who has scarcely entered into your life, may not
leave a terrible trace in it!" And Athos bowed to d'Artagnan like a man
who wishes it understood that he would not be sorry to be left alone
with his thoughts.
On reaching home d'Artagnan found Kitty waiting for him. A month
of fever could not have changed her more than this one night of
sleeplessness and sorrow.
She was sent by her mistress to the false de Wardes. Her mistress was
mad with love, intoxicated with joy. She wished to know when her lover
would meet her a second night; and poor Kitty, pale and trembling,
awaited d'Artagnan's reply. The counsels of his friend, joined to the
cries of his own heart, made him determine, now his pride was saved and
his vengeance satisfied, not to see Milady again. As a reply, he wrote
the following letter:
Do not depend upon me, madame, for the next meeting. Since my
convalescence I have so many affairs of this kind on my hands that I am
forced to regulate them a little. When your turn comes, I shall have the
honor to inform you of it. I kiss your hands.
Comte de Wardes
Not a word about the sapphire. Was the Gascon determined to keep it as a
weapon against Milady, or else, let us be frank, did he not reserve the
sapphire as a last resource for his outfit? It would be wrong to judge
the actions of one period from the point of view of another. That which
would now be considered as disgraceful to a gentleman was at that time
quite a simple and natural affair, and the younger sons of the best
families were frequently supported by their mistresses. D'Artagnan gave
the open letter to Kitty, who at first was unable to comprehend it, but
who became almost wild with joy on reading it a second time. She could
scarcely believe in her happiness; and d'Artagnan was forced to renew
with the living voice the assurances which he had written. And whatever
might be--considering the violent character of Milady--the danger which
the poor girl incurred in giving this billet to her mistress, she ran
back to the Place Royale as fast as her legs could carry her.
The heart of the best woman is pitiless toward the sorrows of a rival.
Milady opened the letter with eagerness equal to Kitty's in bringing it;
but at the
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