Let us return to Milady, whom a glance thrown upon the coast of France has made us lose sight of for an instant.
We shall find her still in the despairing attitude in which we left her, plunged2 in an abyss of dismal3 reflection--a dark hell at the gate of which she has almost left hope behind, because for the first time she doubts, for the first time she fears.
On two occasions her fortune has failed her, on two occasions she has found herself discovered and betrayed; and on these two occasions it was to one fatal genius, sent doubtlessly by the Lord to combat her, that she has succumbed4. D'Artagnan has conquered her--her, that invincible5 power of evil.
He has deceived her in her love, humbled6 her in her pride, thwarted7 her in her ambition; and now he ruins her fortune, deprives her of liberty, and even threatens her life. Still more, he has lifted the corner of her mask--that shield with which she covered herself and which rendered her so strong.
D'Artagnan has turned aside from Buckingham, whom she hates as she hates everyone she has loved, the tempest with which Richelieu threatened him in the person of the queen. D'Artagnan had passed himself upon her as De Wardes, for whom she had conceived one of those tigerlike fancies common to women of her character. D'Artagnan knows that terrible secret which she has sworn no one shall know without dying. In short, at the moment in which she has just obtained from Richelieu a carte blanche by the means of which she is about to take vengeance8 on her enemy, this precious paper is torn from her hands, and it is D'Artagnan who holds her prisoner and is about to send her to some filthy9 Botany Bay, some infamous10 Tyburn of the Indian Ocean.
All this she owes to D'Artagnan, without doubt. From whom can come so many disgraces heaped upon her head, if not from him? He alone could have transmitted to Lord de Winter all these frightful11 secrets which he has discovered, one after another, by a train of fatalities12. He knows her brother-in-law. He must have written to him.
What hatred13 she distills! Motionless, with her burning and fixed14 glances, in her solitary15 apartment, how well the outbursts of passion which at times escape from the depths of her chest with her respiration16, accompany the sound of the surf which rises, growls17, roars, and breaks itself like an eternal and powerless despair against the rocks on which is built this dark and lofty castle! How many magnificent projects of vengeance she conceives by the light of the flashes which her tempestuous18 passion casts over her mind against Mme. Bonacieux, against Buckingham, but above all against D'Artagnan--projects lost in the distance of the future.
Yes; but in order to avenge19 herself she must be free. And to be free, a prisoner has to pierce a wall, detach bars, cut through a floor--all undertakings20 which a patient and strong man may accomplish, but before which the feverish21 irritations22 of a woman must give way. Besides, to do all this, time is necessary-- months, years; and she has ten or twelve days, as Lord de Winter, her fraternal and terrible jailer, has told her.
And yet, if she were a man she would attempt all this, and perhaps might succeed; why, then, did heaven make the mistake of placing that manlike soul in that frail23 and delicate body?
The first moments of her captivity were terrible; a few convulsions of rage which she could not suppress paid her debt of feminine weakness to nature. But by degrees she overcame the outbursts of her mad passion; and nervous tremblings which agitated24 her frame disappeared, and she remained folded within herself like a fatigued25 serpent in repose26.
"Go to, go to! I must have been mad to allow myself to be carried away so," says she, gazing into the glass, which reflects back to her eyes the burning glance by which she appears to interrogate27 herself. "No violence; violence is the proof of weakness. In the first place, I have never succeeded by that means. Perhaps if I employed my strength against women I might perchance find them weaker than myself, and consequently conquer them; but it is with men that I struggle, and I am but a woman to them. Let me fight like a woman, then; my strength is in my weakness."
Then, as if to render an account to herself of the changes she could place upon her countenance28, so mobile and so expressive29, she made it take all expressions from that of passionate30 anger, which convulsed her features, to that of the most sweet, most affectionate, and most seducing31 smile. Then her hair assumed successively, under her skillful hands, all the undulations she thought might assist the charms of her face. At length she murmured, satisfied with herself, "Come, nothing is lost; I am still beautiful."
It was then nearly eight o'clock in the evening. Milady perceived a bed; she calculated that the repose of a few hours would not only refresh her head and her ideas, but still further, her complexion32. A better idea, however, came into her mind before going to bed. She had heard something said about supper. She had already been an hour in this apartment; they could not long delay bringing her a repast. The prisoner did not wish to lose time; and she resolved to make that very evening some attempts to ascertain33 the nature of the ground she had to work upon, by studying the characters of the men to whose guardianship34 she was committed.
A light appeared under the door; this light announced the reappearance of her jailers. Milady, who had arisen, threw herself quickly into the armchair, her head thrown back, her beautiful hair unbound and disheveled, her bosom36 half bare beneath her crumpled37 lace, one hand on her heart, and the other hanging down.
The bolts were drawn38; the door groaned39 upon its hinges. Steps sounded in the chamber40, and drew near.
"Place that table there," said a voice which the prisoner recognized as that of Felton.
The order was executed.
"You will bring lights, and relieve the sentinel," continued Felton.
And this double order which the young lieutenant41 gave to the same individuals proved to Milady that her servants were the same men as her guards; that is to say, soldiers.
Felton's orders were, for the rest, executed with a silent rapidity that gave a good idea of the way in which he maintained discipline.
At length Felton, who had not yet looked at Milady, turned toward her.
"Ah, ah!" said he, "she is asleep; that's well. When she wakes she can sup." And he made some steps toward the door.
"But, my lieutenant," said a soldier, less stoical than his chief, and who had approached Milady, "this woman is not asleep."
"What, not asleep!" said Felton; "what is she doing, then?"
"She has fainted. Her face is very pale, and I have listened in vain; I do not hear her breathe."
"You are right," said Felton, after having looked at Milady from the spot on which he stood without moving a step toward her. "Go and tell Lord de Winter that his prisoner has fainted--for this event not having been foreseen, I don't know what to do."
The soldier went out to obey the orders of his officer. Felton sat down upon an armchair which happened to be near the door, and waited without speaking a word, without making a gesture. Milady possessed42 that great art, so much studied by women, of looking through her long eyelashes without appearing to open the lids. She perceived Felton, who sat with his back toward her. She continued to look at him for nearly ten minutes, and in these ten minutes the immovable guardian35 never turned round once.
She then thought that Lord de Winter would come, and by his presence give fresh strength to her jailer. Her first trial was lost; she acted like a woman who reckons up her resources. As a result she raised her head, opened her eyes, and sighed deeply.
At this sigh Felton turned round.
"Ah, you are awake, madame," he said; "then I have nothing more to do here. If you want anything you can ring."
"Oh, my God, my God! how I have suffered!" said Milady, in that harmonious43 voice which, like that of the ancient enchantresses, charmed all whom she wished to destroy.
And she assumed, upon sitting up in the armchair, a still more graceful44 and abandoned position than when she reclined.
Felton arose.
"You will be served, thus, madame, three times a day," said he. "In the morning at nine o'clock, in the day at one o'clock, and in the evening at eight. If that does not suit you, you can point out what other hours you prefer, and in this respect your wishes will be complied with."
"But am I to remain always alone in this vast and dismal chamber?" asked Milady.
"A woman of the neighbourhood has been sent for, who will be tomorrow at the castle, and will return as often as you desire her presence."
"I thank you, sir," replied the prisoner, humbly45.
Felton made a slight bow, and directed his steps toward the door. At the moment he was about to go out, Lord de Winter appeared in the corridor, followed by the soldier who had been sent to inform him of the swoon of Milady. He held a vial of salts in his hand.
"Well, what is it--what is going on here?" said he, in a jeering46 voice, on seeing the prisoner sitting up and Felton about to go out. "Is this corpse47 come to life already? Felton, my lad, did you not perceive that you were taken for a novice48, and that the first act was being performed of a comedy of which we shall doubtless have the pleasure of following out all the developments?"
"I thought so, my lord," said Felton; "but as the prisoner is a woman, after all, I wish to pay her the attention that every man of gentle birth owes to a woman, if not on her account, at least on my own."
Milady shuddered49 through her whole system. These words of Felton's passed like ice through her veins50.
"So," replied De Winter, laughing, "that beautiful hair so skillfully disheveled, that white skin, and that languishing51 look, have not yet seduced52 you, you heart of stone?"
"No, my Lord," replied the impassive young man; "your Lordship may be assured that it requires more than the tricks and coquetry of a woman to corrupt53 me."
"In that case, my brave lieutenant, let us leave Milady to find out something else, and go to supper; but be easy! She has a fruitful imagination, and the second act of the comedy will not delay its steps after the first."
And at these words Lord de Winter passed his arm through that of Felton, and led him out, laughing.
"Oh, I will be a match for you!" murmured Milady, between her teeth; "be assured of that, you poor spoiled monk54, you poor converted soldier, who has cut his uniform out of a monk's frock!"
"By the way," resumed De Winter, stopping at the threshold of the door, "you must not, Milady, let this check take away your appetite. Taste that fowl55 and those fish. On my honor, they are not poisoned. I have a very good cook, and he is not to be my heir; I have full and perfect confidence in him. Do as I do. Adieu, dear sister, till your next swoon!"
This was all that Milady could endure. Her hands clutched her armchair; she ground her teeth inwardly; her eyes followed the motion of the door as it closed behind Lord de Winter and Felton, and the moment she was alone a fresh fit of despair seized her. She cast her eyes upon the table, saw the glittering of a knife, rushed toward it and clutched it; but her disappointment was cruel. The blade was round, and of flexible silver.
A burst of laughter resounded56 from the other side of the ill- closed door, and the door reopened.
"Ha, ha!" cried Lord de Winter; "ha, ha! Don't you see, my brave Felton; don't you see what I told you? That knife was for you, my lad; she would have killed you. Observe, this is one of her peculiarities57, to get rid thus, after one fashion or another, of all the people who bother her. If I had listened to you, the knife would have been pointed58 and of steel. Then no more of Felton; she would have cut your throat, and after that everybody else's. See, John, see how well she knows how to handle a knife."
In fact, Milady still held the harmless weapon in her clenched59 hand; but these last words, this supreme60 insult, relaxed her hands, her strength, and even her will. The knife fell to the ground.
"You were right, my Lord," said Felton, with a tone of profound disgust which sounded to the very bottom of the heart of Milady, "you were right, my Lord, and I was wrong."
And both again left the room.
But this time Milady lent a more attentive61 ear than the first, and she heard their steps die away in the distance of the corridor.
"I am lost," murmured she; "I am lost! I am in the power of men upon whom I can have no more influence than upon statues of bronze or granite62; they know me by heart, and are steeled against all my weapons. It is, however, impossible that this should end as they have decreed!"
In fact, as this last reflection indicated--this instinctive63 return to hope--sentiments of weakness or fear did not dwell long in her ardent64 spirit. Milady sat down to table, ate from several dishes, drank a little Spanish wine, and felt all her resolution return.
Before she went to bed she had pondered, analyzed65, turned on all sides, examined on all points, the words, the steps, the gestures, the signs, and even the silence of her interlocutors; and of this profound, skillful, and anxious study the result was that Felton, everything considered, appeared the more vulnerable of her two persecutors.
One expression above all recurred66 to the mind of the prisoner: "If I had listened to you," Lord de Winter had said to Felton.
Felton, then, had spoken in her favor, since Lord de Winter had not been willing to listen to him.
"Weak or strong," repeated Milady, "that man has, then, a spark of pity in his soul; of that spark I will make a flame that shall devour67 him. As to the other, he knows me, he fears me, and knows what he has to expect of me if ever I escape from his hands. It is useless, then, to attempt anything with him. But Felton-- that's another thing. He is a young, ingenious, pure man who seems virtuous68; him there are means of destroying."
And Milady went to bed and fell asleep with a smile upon her lips. Anyone who had seen her sleeping might have said she was a young girl dreaming of the crown of flowers she was to wear on her brow at the next festival.
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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fatalities
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| n.恶性事故( fatality的名词复数 )；死亡；致命性；命运 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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undertakings
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| 企业( undertaking的名词复数 )； 保证； 殡仪业； 任务 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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irritations
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| n.激怒( irritation的名词复数 )；恼怒；生气；令人恼火的事 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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interrogate
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| vt.讯问，审问，盘问 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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seducing
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| 诱奸( seduce的现在分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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51
languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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52
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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53
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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56
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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analyzed
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| v.分析( analyze的过去式和过去分词 )；分解；解释；对…进行心理分析 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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