THE SILVER DISH.
The journey passed off pretty well. Athos and his son traversed France
at the rate of fifteen leagues per day; sometimes more, sometimes less,
according to the intensity of Raoul's grief. It took them a fortnight to
reach Toulon, and they lost all traces of D'Artagnan at Antibes. They
were forced to believe that the captain of the musketeers was desirous
of preserving an incognito on his route, for Athos derived from his
inquiries an assurance that such a cavalier as he described had
exchanged his horse for a well-closed carriage on quitting Avignon.
Raoul was much affected at not meeting with D'Artagnan. His affectionate
heart longed to take a farewell and receive consolation from that heart
of steel. Athos knew from experience that D'Artagnan became impenetrable
when engaged in any serious affair, whether on his own account or in the
service of the king. He even feared to offend his friend, or thwart him
by too pressing inquiries. And yet when Raoul commenced his labor of
classing the flotilla, and got together the chalands and lighters to
send them to Toulon, one of the fishermen told the comte that his boat
had been laid up to refit since a trip he had made on account of a
gentleman who was in great haste to embark. Athos, believing that this
man was telling a falsehood in order to be left at liberty to fish, and
so gain more money when all his companions were gone, insisted upon
having the details. The fisherman informed him that six days previously,
a man had come in the night to hire his boat, for the purpose of
visiting the island of St. Honorat. The price was agreed upon, but the
gentleman had arrived with an immense carriage case, which he insisted
upon embarking, in spite of all the difficulties which opposed
themselves to that operation. The fisherman had wished to retract. He
had even threatened, but his threats had procured him nothing but a
shower of blows from the gentleman's cane, which fell upon his shoulders
sharp and long. Swearing and grumbling, he had recourse to the syndic of
his brotherhood at Antibes, who administer justice among themselves and
protect each other; but the gentleman had exhibited a certain paper, at
the sight of which the syndic, bowing to the very ground, had enjoined
obedience from the fisherman, and abused him for having been refractory.
They then departed with the freight.
"But all this does not tell us," said Athos, "how you have injured your
boat."
"This is the way. I was steering toward St. Honorat as the gentleman had
desired me; but he changed his mind, and pretended that I could not pass
to the south of the abbey."
"And why not?"
"Because, monsieur, there is in front of the square tower of the
Benedictines, toward the southern point, the bank of the Moines."
"A rock?" asked Athos.
"Level with the water, and below the water; a dangerous passage, but one
I have cleared a thousand times; the gentleman required me to land him
at St. Marguerite's."
"Well?"
"Well, monsieur!" cried the fisherman, with his Provencal accent, "a man
is a sailor, or he is not; he knows his course, or he is nothing but a
fresh-water lubber. I was obstinate, and wished to try the channel. The
gentleman took me by the collar, and told me quietly he would strangle
me. My mate armed himself with a hatchet, and so did I. We had the
affront of the night before to pay him out for. But the gentleman drew
his sword, and used it in such an astonishingly rapid manner, that we
neither of us could get near him. I was about to hurl my hatchet at his
head, and I had a right to do so, hadn't I, monsieur? for a sailor
aboard is master, as a citizen is in his chamber; I then, in
self-defense, to cut the gentleman in two, when all at once--believe me
or not, monsieur--the great carriage case opened of itself, I don't know
how, and there came out of it a sort of a phantom, his head covered with
a black helmet and a black mask, something terrible to look upon, which
came toward me threatening with its fist."
"And that was--?" said Athos.
"That was the devil, monsieur; for the gentleman, with great glee, cried
out on seeing him: 'Ah! thank you, monseigneur!'"
"A strange story!" murmured the comte, looking at Raoul.
"And what did you do?" asked the latter of the fisherman.
"You must know, monsieur, that two poor men, such as we are, could be no
match for two gentlemen; but when one of them is the devil we had no
chance! My companion and I did not stop to consult one another; we made
but one jump into the sea, for we were within seven or eight hundred
feet of the shore."
"Well, and then?"
"Why, and then, monseigneur, as there was a little wind from the
southwest, the boat drifted into the sands of Sainte-Marguerite's."
"Oh!--but the two travelers?"
"Bah! you need not be uneasy about them! It was pretty plain that one
was the devil, and protected the other; for when we recovered the boat,
after she got afloat again, instead of finding these two creatures
injured by the shock, we found nothing, not even the carriage or the
case."
"Very strange! very strange!" repeated the comte. "But since that, what
have you done, my friend?"
"I made my complaint to the governor of Sainte-Marguerite's, who brought
my finger under my nose by telling me if I plagued him with such silly
stories he would have me flogged."
"What! did the governor say so?"
"Yes, monsieur; and yet my boat was injured, seriously injured, for the
prow is left upon the point of Sainte-Marguerite's, and the carpenter
asks a hundred and twenty livres to repair it."
"Very well," replied Raoul; "you will be exempted from the service. Go."
"We will go to Sainte-Marguerite's, shall we?" said the comte to
Bragelonne, as the man walked away.
"Yes, monsieur, for there is something to be cleared up; that man does
not seem to me to have told the truth."
"Nor to me neither, Raoul. The story of the masked man and the carriage
having disappeared, may be told to conceal some violence these fellows
have committed upon their passenger in the open sea, to punish him for
his persistence in embarking."
"I formed the same suspicion; the carriage was more likely to contain
property than a man."
"We shall see to that, Raoul. This gentleman very much resembles
D'Artagnan; I recognize his mode of proceeding. Alas! we are no longer
the young invincibles of former days. Who knows whether the hatchet or
the iron bar of this miserable coaster has not succeeded in doing that
which the best blades of Europe, balls, and bullets, have not been able
to do in forty years?"
That same day they set out for Sainte-Marguerite's, on board a
chasse-marée come from Toulon under orders. The impression they felt on
landing was a singularly pleasing one. The isle was full of flowers and
fruits. In its cultivated part it served as a garden for the governor.
Orange, pomegranate, and fig trees bent beneath the weight of their
golden or purple fruits. All around this garden, in the uncultivated
parts, the red partridges ran about in coveys among the brambles and
tufts of junipers, and at every step of the comte and Raoul a terrified
rabbit quitted his thyme and heath to scuttle away to his burrow. In
fact, this fortunate isle was uninhabited. Flat, offering nothing but a
tiny bay for the convenience of embarkation, and under the protection of
the governor, who went shares with them, smugglers made use of it as a
provisional entrepôt, at the expense of not killing the game or
devastating the garden. With this compromise, the governor was in a
situation to be satisfied with a garrison of eight men to guard his
fortress, in which twelve cannons accumulated their coats of mouldy
green. The governor was a sort of happy farmer, harvesting wines, figs,
oil, and oranges, preserving his citrons and cédrats in the sun of his
casemates. The fortress, encircled by a deep ditch, its only guardian,
arose like three heads upon turrets connected with each other by
terraces covered with moss.
Athos and Raoul wandered for some time round the fences of the garden
without finding any one to introduce them to the governor. They ended by
making their own way into the garden. It was at the hottest time of the
day. Everything sought shelter beneath grass or stone. The heavens
spread their fiery veils as if to stifle all noises, to envelop all
existences; the rabbit under the broom, the fly under the leaf, slept as
the wave did beneath the heavens. Athos saw nothing living but a
soldier, upon the terrace beneath the second and third court, who was
carrying a basket of provisions on his head. This man returned almost
immediately without his basket, and disappeared in the shade of his
sentry-box. Athos supposed this man must have been carrying dinner to
some one, and, after having done so, returned to dine himself. All at
once, they heard some one call out, and raising their heads, perceived
in the frame of the bars of the window something of a white color, like
a hand that was waved backward and forward--something shining, like a
polished weapon struck by the rays of the sun. And before they were able
to ascertain what it was they saw, a luminous train, accompanied by a
hissing sound in the air, called their attention from the donjon to the
ground. A second dull noise was heard from the ditch, and Raoul ran to
pick up a silver plate which was rolling along the dry sand. The hand
which had thrown this plate made a sign to the two gentlemen and then
disappeared. Athos and Raoul, approaching each other, commenced an
attentive examination of the dusty plate, and they discovered, in
characters traced upon the bottom of it with the point of a knife, this
inscription:
"_I am the brother of the king of France--a prisoner to-day--a madman
to-morrow. French gentlemen and Christians, pray to God for the soul and
the reason of the son of your masters._"
The plate fell from the hands of Athos while Raoul was endeavoring to
make out the meaning of these dismal words. At the same instant they
heard a cry from the top of the donjon. As quick as lightning Raoul bent
down his head, and forced down that of his father likewise. A musket
barrel glittered from the crest of the wall. A white smoke floated like
a plume from the mouth of the musket, and a ball was flattened against a
stone within six inches of the two gentlemen.
"Cordieu!" cried Athos. "What, are people assassinated here? Come down,
cowards as you are!"
"Yes, come down!" cried Raoul, furiously shaking his fist at the castle.
One of the assailants--he who was about to fire--replied to these cries
by an exclamation of surprise; and, as his companion, who wished to
continue the attack, had re-seized his loaded musket, he who had cried
out threw up the weapon, and the ball flew into the air. Athos and
Raoul, seeing them disappear from the platform, expected they would come
to them, and waited with a firm demeanor. Five minutes had not elapsed,
when a stroke upon a drum called the eight soldiers of the garrison to
arms, and they showed themselves on the other side of the ditch with
their muskets in hand. At the head of these men was an officer, whom
Athos and Raoul recognized as the one who had fired the first musket.
The man ordered the soldiers to "make ready."
"We are going to be shot!" cried Raoul; "but, sword-in-hand, at least
let us leap the ditch! We shall kill at least two of these scoundrels,
when their muskets are empty." And, suiting the action to the word,
Raoul was springing forward, followed by Athos, when a well-known voice
resounded behind them--"Athos! Raoul!"
"D'Artagnan!" replied the two gentlemen.
"Recover arms! Mordioux!" cried the captain to the soldiers. "I was sure
I could not be mistaken!"
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Athos. "What! were we to be shot
without warning?"
"It was I who was going to shoot you, and if the governor missed you, I
should not have missed you, my dear friends. How fortunate it is that I
am accustomed to take a long aim, instead of firing at the instant I
raise my weapon! I thought I recognized you. Ah! my dear friends, how
fortunate!" And D'Artagnan wiped his brow, for he had run fast, and
emotion with him was not feigned.
"How!" said Athos. "And is the gentleman who fired at us the governor of
the fortress?"
"In person."
"And why did he fire at us? What have we done to him?"
"Pardieu! You received what the prisoner threw to you?"
"That is true."
"That plate--the prisoner has written something on the bottom of it, has
he not?"
"Yes."
"Good heavens! I was afraid he had."
And D'Artagnan, with all the marks of mortal disquietude, seized the
plate, to read the inscription. When he had read it, a fearful pallor
spread over his countenance. "Oh! Good heavens!" repeated he.
"Silence!--Here is the governor."
"And what will he do to us? Is it our fault?"
"It is true, then?" said Athos, in a subdued voice. "Is it true?"
"Silence! I tell you!--silence! If he only believes you can read; if he
only suspects you have understood; I love you, my dear friends, I will
be killed for you. But--"
"But--" said Athos and Raoul.
"But, I could not save you from perpetual imprisonment, if I saved you
from death. Silence, then! Silence again!"
The governor came up, having crossed the ditch upon a plank bridge.
"Well!" said he to D'Artagnan, "what stops us?"
"You are Spaniards--you do not understand a word of French," said the
captain, eagerly, to his friends in a low voice.
"Well!" replied he, addressing the governor, "I was right; these
gentlemen are two Spanish captains with whom I was acquainted at Ypres,
last year; they don't know a word of French."
"Ah!" said the governor, sharply. "And yet they were trying to read the
inscription on the plate."
D'Artagnan took it out of his hands, effacing the characters with the
point of his sword.
"How!" cried the governor--"what are you doing? I cannot read them now!"
"It is a state secret," replied D'Artagnan, bluntly: "and as you know
that, according to the king's orders, it is under the penalty of death
any one should penetrate it, I will, if you like, allow you to read it
and have you shot immediately afterward."
During this apostrophe--half serious, half ironical--Athos and Raoul
preserved the coolest, most unconcerned silence.
"But, is it possible," said the governor, "that these gentlemen do not
comprehend at least some words?"
"Suppose they do! If they do understand a few spoken words it does not
follow that they should understand what is written. They cannot even
read Spanish. A noble Spaniard, remember, ought never to know how to
read."
The governor was obliged to be satisfied with these explanations, but he
was still tenacious. "Invite these gentlemen to come to the fortress,"
said he.
"That I will willingly do. I was about to propose it to you." The fact
is, the captain had quite another idea, and would have wished his
friends a hundred leagues off. But he was obliged to make the best of
it. He addressed the two gentlemen in Spanish, giving them a polite
invitation, which they accepted. They all turned toward the entrance of
the fort, and the incident being exhausted, the eight soldiers returned
to their delightful leisure, for a moment disturbed by this unexpected
adventure.