"Alexandre Dumas. The Three Musketeers." - читать интересную книгу автора

annoy the pages and guards of the cardinal duke--all things which appeared
to D'Artagnan monstrous impossibilities.
Nevertheless, when the name of the king was now and then uttered
unthinkingly amid all these cardinal jests, a sort of gag seemed to close
for a moment on all these jeering mouths. They looked hesitatingly around
them, and appeared to doubt the thickness of the partition between them and
the office of M. de Treville; but a fresh allusion soon brought back the
conversation to his Eminence, and then the laughter recovered its loudness
and the light was not withheld from any of his actions.
"Certes, these fellows will all either be imprisoned or hanged,"
thought the terrified D'Artagnan, "and I, no doubt, with them; for from the
moment I have either listened to or heard them, I shall be held as an
accomplice. What would my good father say, who so strongly pointed out to
me the respect due to the cardinal, if he knew I was in the society of such
pagans?"
We have no need, therefore, to say that D'Artagnan dared not join in
the conversation, only he looked with all his eyes and listened with all
his ears, stretching his five senses so as to lose nothing; and despite his
confidence on the paternal admonitions, he felt himself carried by his
tastes and led by his instincts to praise rather than to blame the
unheard-of things which were taking place.
Although he was a perfect stranger in the court of M. de Treville's
courtiers, and this his first appearance in that place, he was at length
noticed, and somebody came and asked him what he wanted. At this demand
D'Artagnan gave his name very modestly, emphasized the title of compatriot,
and begged the servant who had put the question to him to request a
moment's audience of M. de Treville--a request which the other, with an air
of protection, promised to transmit in due season.
D'Artagnan, a little recovered from his first surprise, had now
leisure to study costumes and physiognomy.
The center of the most animated group was a Musketeer of great height
and haughty countenance, dressed in a costume so peculiar as to attract
general attention. He did not wear the uniform cloak--which was not
obligatory at that epoch of less liberty but more in-dependence--but a
cerulean-blue doublet, a little faded and worn, and over this a
magnifi-cent baldric, worked in gold, which shone like water ripples in the
sun. A long cloak of crim-son velvet fell in graceful folds from his
shoulders, disclosing in front the splendid baldric, from which was
suspended a gigantic rapier. This Musketeer had just come off guard,
com-plained of having a cold, and coughed from time to time affectedly. It
was for this reason, as he said to those around him, that he had put on his
cloak; and while he spoke with a lofty air and twisted his mustache
disdainfully, all admired his embroidered baldric, and D'Artagnan more than
anyone.

"What would you have?" said the Musketeer. "This fashion is coming in.
It is a folly, I admit, but still it is the fashion. Besides, one must lay
out one's inheritance somehow."
"Ah, Porthos!" cried one of his companions, "don't try to make us
believe you obtained that baldric by paternal generosity. It was given to