Louise de la Valliere by Alexandre Dumas (best sales books of all time TXT) 📗
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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“Take care!” said Raoul, with a bitter smile, “for presently you may say perhaps I did not love you.”
“Oh! you love me like an affectionate brother; let me hope that, Raoul.”
“As a brother! undeceive yourself, Louise. I love you as a lover—as a husband, with the deepest, the truest, the fondest affection.”
“Raoul, Raoul!”
“As a brother! Oh, Louise! I love you so deeply, that I would have shed my blood for you, drop by drop; I would, oh! how willingly, have suffered myself to be torn to pieces for your sake, have sacrificed my very future for you. I love you so deeply, Louise, that my heart feels dead and crushed within me,—my faith in human nature all is gone,—my eyes have lost their light; I loved you so deeply, that I now no longer see, think of, care for, anything, either in this world or the next.”
“Raoul—dear Raoul! spare me, I implore you!” cried La Valliere. “Oh! if I had but known—”
“It is too late, Louise; you love, you are happy in your affection; I read your happiness through your tears—behind the tears which the loyalty of your nature makes you shed; I feel the sighs your affection breathes forth. Louise, Louise, you have made me the most abjectly wretched man living; leave me, I entreat you. Adieu! adieu!”
“Forgive me! oh, forgive me, Raoul, for what I have done.”
“Have I not done much, much more? Have I not told you that I love you still?” She buried her face in her hands.
“And to tell you that—do you hear me, Louise?—to tell you that, at such a moment as this, to tell you that, as I have told you, is to pronounce my own sentence of death. Adieu!” La Valliere held out her hands to him in vain.
“We ought not to see each other again in this world,” he said, and as she was on the point of crying out in bitter agony at this remark, he placed his hand on her mouth to stifle the exclamation. She pressed her lips upon it, and fell fainting to the ground. “Olivain,” said Raoul, “take this young lady and bear her to the carriage which is waiting for her at the door.” As Olivain lifted her up, Raoul made a movement as if to dart towards La Valliere, in order to give her a first and last kiss, but, stopping abruptly, he said, “No! she is not mine. I am no thief—as is the king of France.” And he returned to his room, whilst the lackey carried La Valliere, still fainting, to the carriage.
Chapter LXII. What Raoul Had Guessed.
As soon as Raoul had quitted Athos and D’Artagnan, as the two exclamations that had followed his departure escaped their lips, they found themselves face to face alone. Athos immediately resumed the earnest air that he had assumed at D’Artagnan’s arrival.
“Well,” he said, “what have you come to announce to me, my friend?”
“I?” inquired D’Artagnan.
“Yes; I do not see you in this way without some reason for it,” said Athos, smiling.
“The deuce!” said D’Artagnan.
“I will place you at your ease. The king is furious, I suppose?”
“Well, I must say he is not altogether pleased.”
“And you have come to arrest me, then?”
“My dear friend, you have hit the very mark.”
“Oh, I expected it. I am quite ready to go with you.”
“Deuce take it!” said D’Artagnan, “what a hurry you are in.”
“I am afraid of delaying you,” said Athos, smiling.
“I have plenty of time. Are you not curious, besides, to know how things went on between the king and me?”
“If you will be good enough to tell me, I will listen with the greatest of pleasure,” said Athos, pointing out to D’Artagnan a large chair, into which the latter threw himself, assuming the easiest possible attitude.
“Well, I will do so willingly enough,” continued D’Artagnan, “for the conversation is rather curious, I must say. In the first place the king sent for me.”
“As soon as I had left?”
“You were just going down the last steps of the staircase, as the musketeers told me. I arrived. My dear Athos, he was not red in the face merely, he was positively purple. I was not aware, of course, of what had passed; only, on the ground, lying on the floor, I saw a sword broken in two.”
“‘Captain d’Artagnan,’ cried the king, as soon as he saw me.
“‘Sire,’ I replied.
“‘M. de la Fere has just left me; he is an insolent man.’
“‘An insolent man!’ I exclaimed, in such a tone that the king stopped suddenly short.
“‘Captain d’Artagnan,’ resumed the king, with his teeth clenched, ‘you will be good enough to listen to and hear me.’
“‘That is my duty, sire.’
“‘I have, out of consideration for M. de la Fere, wished to spare him—he is a man of whom I still retain some kind recollections—the discredit of being arrested in my palace. You will therefore take a carriage.’ At this I made a slight movement.
“‘If you object to arrest him yourself,’ continued the king, ‘send me my captain of the guards.’
“‘Sire,’ I replied, ‘there is no necessity for the captain of the guards, since I am on duty.’
“‘I should not like to annoy you,’ said the king, kindly, ‘for you have always served me well, Monsieur D’Artagnan.’
“‘You do not “annoy” me, sire,’ I replied; ‘I am on duty, that is all.’
“‘But,’ said the king, in astonishment, ‘I believe the comte is your friend?’
“‘If he were my father, sire, it would not make me less on duty than I am.’
“The king looked at me; he saw how unmoved my face was, and seemed satisfied. ‘You will arrest M. le Comte de la Fere, then?’ he inquired.
“‘Most certainly, sire, if you give me the order to do so.’
“‘Very well; I order you to do so.’
“I bowed, and replied, ‘Where is the comte, sire?’
“‘You will look for him.’
“‘And am I to arrest him, wherever he may be?’
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