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Updated: July 8, 2025
"Are you ready, monsieur?" said Monk to Athos, who had turned away, not to expose his face to the light. "Yes, general," replied he. "Ah! the French gentleman!" said the leader of the fishermen to himself. "Peste! I have a great mind to charge you with the commission, Menneville; he may know me. Light! light!"
"Are you ready, monsieur?" said Monk to Athos, who had turned away, not to expose his face to the light. "Yes, general," replied he. "Ah! the French gentleman!" said the leader of the fishermen to himself. "Peste! I have a great mind to charge you with the commission, Menneville; he may know me. Light! light!"
"In person," replied the musketeer with his deliberate tone; "it appears that you had in Menneville a pretty enemy." "It was not I, monsieur, who had an enemy," replied Colbert; "it was the king." "Double brute!" thought D'Artagnan, "to think to play the great man and the hypocrite with me.
Danecamp appeared. "Make your report," said Gourville. "Monsieur," replied the messenger, "we received orders to carry off the prisoners, and to cry 'Vive Colbert! whilst carrying them off." "To burn them alive, was it not, abbe?" interrupted Gourville. "Yes, yes, the order was given to Menneville. Menneville knew what was to be done, and Menneville is dead."
Two pistols on the table and his naked sword made D'Artagnan easy with regard to indiscretions from without. When once at Scheveningen he had felt completely reassured. His men greatly dreaded any conflict with the lords of the soil. He had, besides, interested in his cause him who had morally served him as lieutenant, and whom we have seen reply to the name of Menneville.
"But," resumed the man, "at the moment the archers were broken, at the moment the fire was set to one of the houses of the Place destined to serve as a funeral-pile for the guilty, this fury, this demon, this giant of whom I told you, and who, we had been informed, was the proprietor of the house in question, aided by a young man who accompanied him, threw out of the window those who kept the fire, called to his assistance the musketeers who were in the crowd, leaped himself from the window of the first story into the Place, and plied his sword so desperately that the victory was restored to the archers, the prisoners were retaken, and Menneville killed.
"Here is some money in account," said D'Artagnan, putting into their hands a purse containing two thousand five hundred livres in gold. "Go and wait for me at Calais, you know where." And D'Artagnan heaved a profound sigh, as he let the purse fall into the hands of Menneville. "What, are you leaving us?" cried the men. "For a short time," said D'Artagnan, "or for a long time, who knows?
The treaty of commerce has been concluded, thanks to our coup-de-main which made us masters of the most skillful financier of England, for now I am at liberty to confess to you that the man we had to carry off was the treasurer of General Monk." This word treasurer produced a certain effect on his army. D'Artagnan observed that the eyes of Menneville alone did not evince perfect faith.
"Well, monsieur, my Menneville spitted the joker, to the great astonishment of the spectators, and said to the cook: 'Take this goose, my friend, it is fatter than your fowl. That is the way, monsieur," ended the abbe, triumphantly, "in which I spend my revenues; I maintain the honor of the family, monsieur." Fouquet hung his head. "And I have a hundred as good as he," continued the abbe.
These words caught the ear of Menneville at the moment when he himself was breathing his last sigh. A dark, ironical smile flitted across his lips, he wished to reply, but the effort hastened the snapping of the chord of life he expired. "Oh! all this is very frightful!" murmured Raoul: "let us begone, monsieur le chevalier." "You are not wounded?" asked D'Artagnan. "Not at all, thank you."
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