Athos slowly raised his pistol, stretched out his
arm so that the weapon almost touched Milady’s
forehead, and then, in a voice the more terrible from
having the supreme calmness of a fixed resolution,
“Madame,” said he, “you will this
instant deliver to me the paper the cardinal signed;
or upon my soul, I will blow your brains out.”
With another man, Milady might have preserved some
doubt; but she knew Athos. Nevertheless, she
remained motionless.
“You have one second to decide,” said
he.
Milady saw by the contraction of his countenance that
the trigger was about to be pulled; she reached her
hand quickly to her bosom, drew out a paper, and held
it toward Athos.
“Take it,” said she, “and be accursed!”
Athos took the paper, returned the pistol to his belt,
approached the lamp to be assured that it was the paper,
unfolded it, and read:
It is by my order and for the good of the state that
the bearer of this has done what he has done.
Richelieu
“And now,” said Athos, resuming his cloak
and putting on his hat, “now that I have drawn
your teeth, viper, bite if you can.”
And he left the chamber without once looking behind
him.
At the door he found the two men and the spare horse
which they held.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “Monseigneur’s
order is, you know, to conduct that woman, without
losing time, to the fort of the Point, and never to
leave her till she is on board.”
As these words agreed wholly with the order they had
received, they bowed their heads in sign of assent.
With regard to Athos, he leaped lightly into the saddle
and set out at full gallop; only instead of following
the road, he went across the fields, urging his horse
to the utmost and stopping occasionally to listen.
In one of those halts he heard the steps of several
horses on the road. He had no doubt it was the
cardinal and his escort. He immediately made
a new point in advance, rubbed his horse down with
some heath and leaves of trees, and placed himself
across the road, about two hundred paces from the
camp.
“Who goes there?” cried he, as soon as
he perceived the horsemen.
“That is our brave Musketeer, I think,”
said the cardinal.
“Yes, monseigneur,” said Porthos, “it
is he.”
“Monsieur Athos,” said Richelieu, “receive
my thanks for the good guard you have kept.
Gentlemen, we are arrived; take the gate on the left.
The watchword is, ‘King and Re.’”
Saying these words, the cardinal saluted the three
friends with an inclination of his head, and took
the right hand, followed by his attendant—for
that night he himself slept in the camp.
“Well!” said Porthos and Aramis together,
as soon as the cardinal was out of hearing, “well,
he signed the paper she required!”
