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Full Online Book HomeLong StoriesThe Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXV - In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy
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The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXV - In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy Post by :ebempires Category :Long Stories Author :Alexandre Dumas Date :February 2011 Read :1798

Click below to download : The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXV - In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy (Format : PDF)

The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXV - In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy

Aramis and Porthos, having profited by the time granted them by Fouquet,
did honor to the French cavalry by their speed. Porthos did not clearly
understand on what kind of mission he was forced to display so much
velocity; but as he saw Aramis spurring on furiously, he, Porthos,
spurred on in the same way. They had soon, in this manner, placed twelve
leagues between them and Vaux; they were then obliged to change horses,
and organize a sort of post arrangement. It was during a relay that
Porthos ventured to interrogate Aramis discreetly.

"Hush!" replied the latter, "know only that our fortune depends on our

As if Porthos had still been the musketeer, without a sou or a _maille_
of 1626, he pushed forward. That magic word "fortune" always means
something in the human ear. It means _enough for those who have
nothing; it means _too much for those who have enough.

"I shall be made a duke!" said Porthos, aloud. He was speaking to

"That is possible," replied Aramis, smiling after his own fashion, as
Porthos's horse passed him. Aramis felt, notwithstanding, as though his
brain were on fire; the activity of the body had not yet succeeded in
subduing that of the mind. All there is of raging passion, mental
toothache or mortal threat, raged, gnawed and grumbled in the thoughts of
the unhappy prelate. His countenance exhibited visible traces of this
rude combat. Free on the highway to abandon himself to every impression
of the moment, Aramis did not fail to swear at every start of his horse,
at every inequality in the road. Pale, at times inundated with boiling
sweats, then again dry and icy, he flogged his horses till the blood
streamed from their sides. Porthos, whose dominant fault was not
sensibility, groaned at this. Thus traveled they on for eight long
hours, and then arrived at Orleans. It was four o'clock in the
afternoon. Aramis, on observing this, judged that nothing showed pursuit
to be a possibility. It would be without example that a troop capable of
taking him and Porthos should be furnished with relays sufficient to
perform forty leagues in eight hours. Thus, admitting pursuit, which was
not at all manifest, the fugitives were five hours in advance of their

Aramis thought that there might be no imprudence in taking a little rest,
but that to continue would make the matter more certain. Twenty leagues
more, performed with the same rapidity, twenty more leagues devoured, and
no one, not even D'Artagnan, could overtake the enemies of the king.
Aramis felt obliged, therefore, to inflict upon Porthos the pain of
mounting on horseback again. They rode on till seven o'clock in the
evening, and had only one post more between them and Blois. But here a
diabolical accident alarmed Aramis greatly. There were no horses at the
post. The prelate asked himself by what infernal machination his enemies
had succeeded in depriving him of the means of going further, - he who
never recognized chance as a deity, who found a cause for every accident,
preferred believing that the refusal of the postmaster, at such an hour,
in such a country, was the consequence of an order emanating from above:
an order given with a view of stopping short the king-maker in the midst
of his flight. But at the moment he was about to fly into a passion, so
as to procure either a horse or an explanation, he was struck with the
recollection that the Comte de la Fere lived in the neighborhood.

"I am not traveling," said he; "I do not want horses for a whole stage.
Find me two horses to go and pay a visit to a nobleman of my acquaintance
who resides near this place."

"What nobleman?" asked the postmaster.

"M. le Comte de la Fere."

"Oh!" replied the postmaster, uncovering with respect, "a very worthy
nobleman. But, whatever may be my desire to make myself agreeable to
him, I cannot furnish you with horses, for all mine are engaged by M. le
Duc de Beaufort."

"Indeed!" said Aramis, much disappointed.

"Only," continued the postmaster, "if you will put up with a little
carriage I have, I will harness an old blind horse who has still his legs
left, and peradventure will draw you to the house of M. le Comte de la

"It is worth a louis," said Aramis.

"No, monsieur, such a ride is worth no more than a crown; that is what M.
Grimaud, the comte's intendant, always pays me when he makes use of that
carriage; and I should not wish the Comte de la Fere to have to reproach
me with having imposed on one of his friends."

"As you please," said Aramis, "particularly as regards disobliging the
Comte de la Fere; only I think I have a right to give you a louis for
your idea."

"Oh! doubtless," replied the postmaster with delight. And he himself
harnessed the ancient horse to the creaking carriage. In the meantime
Porthos was curious to behold. He imagined he had discovered a clew to
the secret, and he felt pleased, because a visit to Athos, in the first
place, promised him much satisfaction, and, in the next, gave him the
hope of finding at the same time a good bed and good supper. The master,
having got the carriage ready, ordered one of his men to drive the
strangers to La Fere. Porthos took his seat by the side of Aramis,
whispering in his ear, "I understand."

"Aha!" said Aramis, "and what do you understand, my friend?"

"We are going, on the part of the king, to make some great proposal to

"Pooh!" said Aramis.

"You need tell me nothing about it," added the worthy Porthos,
endeavoring to reseat himself so as to avoid the jolting, "you need tell
me nothing, I shall guess."

"Well! do, my friend; guess away."

They arrived at Athos's dwelling about nine o'clock in the evening,
favored by a splendid moon. This cheerful light rejoiced Porthos beyond
expression; but Aramis appeared annoyed by it in an equal degree. He
could not help showing something of this to Porthos, who replied - "Ay!
ay! I guess how it is! the mission is a secret one."

These were his last words in the carriage. The driver interrupted him by
saying, "Gentlemen, we have arrived."

Porthos and his companion alighted before the gate of the little chateau,
where we are about to meet again our old acquaintances Athos and
Bragelonne, the latter of whom had disappeared since the discovery of the
infidelity of La Valliere. If there be one saying truer than another, it
is this: great griefs contain within themselves the germ of consolation.
This painful wound, inflicted upon Raoul, had drawn him nearer to his
father again; and God knows how sweet were the consolations which flowed
from the eloquent mouth and generous heart of Athos. The wound was not
cicatrized, but Athos, by dint of conversing with his son and mixing a
little more of his life with that of the young man, had brought him to
understand that this pang of a first infidelity is necessary to every
human existence; and that no one has loved without encountering it.
Raoul listened, again and again, but never understood. Nothing replaces
in the deeply afflicted heart the remembrance and thought of the beloved
object. Raoul then replied to the reasoning of his father:

"Monsieur, all that you tell me is true; I believe that no one has
suffered in the affections of the heart so much as you have; but you are
a man too great by reason of intelligence, and too severely tried by
adverse fortune not to allow for the weakness of the soldier who suffers
for the first time. I am paying a tribute that will not be paid a second
time; permit me to plunge myself so deeply in my grief that I may forget
myself in it, that I may drown even my reason in it."

"Raoul! Raoul!"

"Listen, monsieur. Never shall I accustom myself to the idea that
Louise, the chastest and most innocent of women, has been able to so
basely deceive a man so honest and so true a lover as myself. Never can
I persuade myself that I see that sweet and noble mask change into a
hypocritical lascivious face. Louise lost! Louise infamous! Ah!
monseigneur, that idea is much more cruel to me than Raoul abandoned –
Raoul unhappy!"

Athos then employed the heroic remedy. He defended Louise against Raoul,
and justified her perfidy by her love. "A woman who would have yielded
to a king because he is a king," said he, "would deserve to be styled
infamous; but Louise loves Louis. Young, both, they have forgotten, he
his rank, she her vows. Love absolves everything, Raoul. The two young
people love each other with sincerity."

And when he had dealt this severe poniard-thrust, Athos, with a sigh, saw
Raoul bound away beneath the rankling wound, and fly to the thickest
recesses of the wood, or the solitude of his chamber, whence, an hour
after, he would return, pale, trembling, but subdued. Then, coming up to
Athos with a smile, he would kiss his hand, like the dog who, having been
beaten, caresses a respected master, to redeem his fault. Raoul redeemed
nothing but his weakness, and only confessed his grief. Thus passed away
the days that followed that scene in which Athos had so violently shaken
the indomitable pride of the king. Never, when conversing with his son,
did he make any allusion to that scene; never did he give him the details
of that vigorous lecture, which might, perhaps, have consoled the young
man, by showing him his rival humbled. Athos did not wish that the
offended lover should forget the respect due to his king. And when
Bragelonne, ardent, angry, and melancholy, spoke with contempt of royal
words, of the equivocal faith which certain madmen draw from promises
that emanate from thrones, when, passing over two centuries, with that
rapidity of a bird that traverses a narrow strait to go from one
continent to the other, Raoul ventured to predict the time in which kings
would be esteemed as less than other men, Athos said to him, in his
serene, persuasive voice, "You are right, Raoul; all that you say will
happen; kings will lose their privileges, as stars which have survived
their aeons lose their splendor. But when that moment comes, Raoul, we
shall be dead. And remember well what I say to you. In this world, all,
men, women, and kings, must live for the present. We can only live for
the future for God."

This was the manner in which Athos and Raoul were, as usual, conversing,
and walking backwards and forwards in the long alley of limes in the
park, when the bell which served to announce to the comte either the hour
of dinner or the arrival of a visitor, was rung; and, without attaching
any importance to it, he turned towards the house with his son; and at
the end of the alley they found themselves in the presence of Aramis and

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The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXVI - The Last Adieux The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXVI - The Last Adieux

The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXVI - The Last Adieux
Raoul uttered a cry, and affectionately embraced Porthos. Aramis andAthos embraced like old men; and this embrace itself being a question forAramis, he immediately said, "My friend, we have not long to remain withyou.""Ah!" said the comte."Only time to tell you of my good fortune," interrupted Porthos."Ah!" said Raoul.Athos looked silently at Aramis, whose somber air had already appeared tohim very little in harmony with the good news Porthos hinted."What is the good fortune that has happened to you? Let us hear it,"said Raoul, with a smile."The king has made me a duke," said the worthy Porthos, with an

The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXIV - The False King The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXIV - The False King

The Man In The Iron Mask - Chapter XXIV - The False King
In the meantime, usurped royalty was playing out its part bravely atVaux. Philippe gave orders that for his _petit lever the _grandesentrees_, already prepared to appear before the king, should beintroduced. He determined to give this order notwithstanding the absenceof M. d'Herblay, who did not return - our readers know the reason. Butthe prince, not believing that absence could be prolonged, wished, as allrash spirits do, to try his valor and his fortune far from all protectionand instruction. Another reason urged him to this - Anne of Austria wasabout to appear; the guilty mother was about to