The Three Musketeers. Alexandre Dumas

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      As for Aramis, he dwelt in a small apartment, comprising a drawing-room, a dining-room, and a sleeping chamber, which were situate on the ground-floor, and had access to a small garden, fresh, green, shady, and quite impenetrable to the eyes of the surrounding neighbourhood.

      We have already had occasion to know how d’Artagnan was lodged, and have already formed an acquaintance with his lackey, Master Planchet.

      D’Artagnan, who was naturally very curious, as men of talent generally are, made every effort to find out who Athos, Porthos, and Aramis really were; for, under one of those assumed appellations, each of these young men concealed his real name.

      It was evident they were of good origin, too, particularly Athos, who might be known as a nobleman at a league’s distance. He therefore tried from Porthos to get some information concerning Athos and Aramis; and assailed Aramis, to find out something concerning Porthos.

      Unfortunately, Porthos knew no more of the life of his silent comrade than that which has been told. It was said that he had met with great misfortunes of the heart, and that a terrible treachery had for ever poisoned the happiness of this gallant man. What this treachery was, no one knew.

      As for Porthos, except his real name, with which M. de Treville alone was acquainted, as well as with those of his two comrades also, his life was easily discovered. Vain and indiscreet, he was as easily seen through as crystal. The only thing which could mislead the investigator would have been a belief in all the good which he announced of himself.

      As for Aramis, with the appearance of entire openness he was enveloped in mystery. He replied but little to the questions put to him about others, and entirely eluded those which related to himself. One day d’Artagnan, having questioned him a long time about Porthos, and having learned the report of his love affair with a princess, wished to ascertain something of a similar nature as regarded himself.

      “And you, my dear companion,” said he, “I have an opinion that you are familiar with coats of arms: witness a certain handkerchief.”

      Aramis was not angry this time, but he put on a most modest air, and said, affectedly: “My dear fellow, do not forget that I wish to enter the church, and that I fly from all worldly things. That handkerchief was not a love-token for me, but was left by mistake at my house by one of my friends. I was obliged to take it for fear of compromising him, and his mistress. As for myself, I am, like Athos, indifferent to these affairs.”

      “But what the devil! you are not an abbé, but a musketeer!” exclaimed d’Artagnan.

      “A musketeer, my dear fellow, for a time, as the cardinal says; a musketeer by accident, but a churchman at heart, believe me. Athos and Porthos have foisted me in, to occupy my time. I had, at the moment I was going to be ordained, a slight difficulty with———But that does not much interest you, and I take up your valuable time.”

      “On the contrary,” said d’Artagnan; “it interests me much, and I have at present actually nothing to do.”

      “Yes, but I have my breviary to say,” replied Aramis, “then some verses to compose, which Madame d’Aiguillon has requested of me; then I must go into the Rue St. Honoré, to buy some rouge for Madame de Chevreuse so you see, my dear friend, that though you are not in a hurry, I am;” and Aramis, tenderly pressing his young companion’s hand, took leave of him.

      D’Artagnan could not, with all his pains, learn any more of his three new friends; he therefore determined to believe all that was at present said of their past life, and hope for better and more full information from the future. In the meantime, he considered Athos an Achilles, Porthos an Ajax, and Aramis a Joseph!

      The days of the four young men passed happily on. Athos played, and always with ill-luck; yet he never borrowed a sou of his friends, although he lent to them when he could. And, when he played on credit, he always awoke his creditor at six in the morning to pay him the debt of the evening before. Porthos had his humours: one day, if he gained, he was insolent and splendid; and when he lost, he disappeared entirely for a time, and then came back, wan and thin, but with his pockets stored with coin. As for Aramis, he never played; he was the worst musketeer, and the most unpleasant guest possible. He always wanted to study; even in the middle of dinner, when all expected him to spend two or three hours in the midst of the wine and company, out came his watch, and he would say—rising with a graceful smile, and taking leave of the company—that he must consult a casuist with whom he had an appointment.

      Planchet, d’Artagnan’s valet, nobly supported his good fortune. He received thirty sous a day; and, during a month, entered the lodgings gay as a chaffinch, and affable to his master. When the wind of adversity began to blow on the household of the Rue des Fossoyeurs—that is to say, when Louis XIII.’s forty pistoles were eaten up, or nearly so—he began to utter complaints which d’Artagnan found very nauseous, Porthos indelicate, and Aramis ridiculous. On this account, Athos advised d’Artagnan to dismiss the rascal; Porthos wished him to thrash him first; and Aramis declared that a master should never listen to anything but his servant’s compliments.

      “It is very easy for you to talk,” replied d’Artagnan; “for you, Athos, who live mutely with Grimaud, and forbid him to speak; and, consequently, can never hear anything unpleasant from him; for you Porthos, who live magnificently, and are a sort of demigod to your valet, Mousqueton; for you, in fine, Aramis, who, being always engaged in thought, make your servant Bazin, who is a mild, religious man, respect you; but I—who am without stability or resources—I, who am neither musketeer nor guardsman—what can I do to inspire Planchet with affection, terror, or respect?”

      “The thing is weighty,” answered the three friends; “the discipline of your establishment is in the balance. With valets, as with women, it is necessary to prove master at once, if you wish to keep them with you; let us therefore reflect!”

      D’Artagnan reflected, and resolved to thrash Planchet provisionally, which was executed as conscientiously as he acted in all other affairs. Then, after having drubbed him soundly, he forbade him to quit his service without permission. “For,” said he, “the future cannot be unfavourable to me; I have an infallible expectation of better times, and your fortune is therefore made if you remain with me. Yes! I am too good a master to let your prospects be sacrificed, by giving you the notice you demand.”

      This manner of proceeding gave the musketeers great respect for d’Artagnan’s policy; and Planchet was seized with equal admiration, and spoke no more of leaving him.

      The lives of the four young men were now passed alike. D’Artagnan, who had formed no habits whatever, as he had but just arrived from the provinces and fallen into the midst of a world entirely new to him, immediately assumed those of his friends.

      They rose at eight in the winter, and at six in the summer; and went to take the countersign, and see what was doing at M. de Treville’s. D’Artagnan, though he was not a musketeer, performed the duties of one with great punctuality. He was always on guard, as he always accompanied that one of his friends whose turn it chanced to be. Every one at the hotel knew him, and regarded him as a comrade. M. de Treville, who, at the first glance took his measure, and had a sincere affection for him, did not cease to recommend him to the king.

      The three musketeers had, on their parts, a great affection for their young companion. The friendship which united these four men, and the necessity of seeing each other three or four times a day, whether the affair were one of honour or of pleasure, made them run after each other like shadows; and they were always to be seen seeking each other, from the Luxembourg to the Place de Saint Sulpice, or from the Rue du Vieux Colombier to the Luxembourg.

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