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Updated: June 2, 2025
The story of Casabianca on the deck of the burning ship, or of the little wounded drummer, borne on the shoulders of a musketeer and still beating the rappel while the bullets are flying around him thrill the heart of man because these were great and heroic deeds performed by striplings. It is the bravery and firmness of the weak that challenges the highest admiration.
"One would say that this happy return of the king to London saddens you, my friend; you who have done at least as much for his majesty as I have." "Have I not," replied D'Artagnan, with his Gascon laugh, "have I not done much for his majesty, without any one suspecting it?" "Yes, yes, but the king is well aware of it, my friend," cried Athos. "He is aware of it!" said the musketeer bitterly.
They will treat you as a deserter, I warn you." "I do not enter the Church; I re-enter it. I deserted the Church for the world, for you know that I forced myself when I became a Musketeer." "I? I know nothing about it." "You don't know I quit the seminary?" "Not at all." "This is my story, then. Besides, the Scriptures say, 'Confess yourselves to one another, and I confess to you, d'Artagnan."
"You will begin, therefore, by taking me first out of Paris, will you not, my dear M. d'Artagnan?" "A difficult commission, my lord," replied D'Artagnan, resuming his serious manner. "But," said Mazarin, "you did not make so many difficulties with regard to the king and queen." "The king and the queen are my king and queen," replied the musketeer, "my life is theirs and I must give it for them.
The dew is cold but clear.... It's well that I'm a musketeer..." he sang, pretending to hiccough after each syllable. "Look out, your soles will fly off!" shouted the red-haired man, noticing that the sole of the dancer's boot was hanging loose. "What a fellow you are for dancing!" The dancer stopped, pulled off the loose piece of leather, and threw it on the fire.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the king, pressing the hand of the musketeer, "you have obliged me as much as if you had promoted the success of my cause, for you have revealed to me an unknown friend, to whom I shall ever be grateful, and whom I shall always love." And the king pressed his hand cordially.
Charles II. walked pensively along, his head hanging down and his hand beneath his cloak. Monk followed him, with crossed arms and an uneasy look. D'Artagnan came last, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Where is the boat in which you came, gentlemen?" said Charles to the musketeer. "Yonder, sire; I have seven men and an officer waiting me in that little bark which is lighted by a fire."
Josiana had given two of these confidential keys Lord David had one, Barkilphedro the other. However, to enter straight into a bedchamber was, in the old code of manners, a thing not in the least out of the way. Thence resulted incidents. La Ferté, suddenly drawing back the bed curtains of Mademoiselle Lafont, found inside Sainson, the black musketeer, etc., etc.
Aramis, on entering the chamber, did not hesitate an instant; and without pronouncing one word, which, whatever it might be, would have been cold on such an occasion, he went straight up to the musketeer, so well disguised under the costume of M. Agnan, and pressed him in his arms with a tenderness which the most distrustful could not have suspected of coldness or affectation.
The king possessed, to a greater extent than any one else, the faculty enjoyed by the great in power or position, of compromising and dividing those beneath him. Manicamp darted a look full of reproaches at the musketeer.
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