Lover and Husband
“Ah, Madame,” said d’Artagnan, entering by the door which the young woman opened for him, “allow me to tell you that you have a bad sort of a husband.”
“You have, then, overheard our conversation?” asked Madame Bonacieux, eagerly, and looking at d’Artagnan with disquiet.
“The whole.”
“But how, my God?”
“By a mode of proceeding known to myself, and by which I likewise overheard the more animated conversation which he had with the cardinal’s police.”
“And what did you understand by what we said?”
“A thousand things. In the first place, that, unfortunately, your husband is a simpleton and a fool; in the next place, you are in trouble, of which I am very glad, as it gives me an opportunity of placing myself at your service, and God knows I am ready to throw myself into the fire for you; finally, that the queen wants a brave, intelligent, devoted man to make a journey to London for her. I have at least two of the three qualities you stand in need of, and here I am.”
Madame Bonacieux made no reply; but her heart beat with joy and secret hope shone in her eyes.
“And what guarantee will you give me,” asked she, “if I consent to confide this message to you?”