Chapter 40

Chapter XL:
Two Old Friends.

Whilst every one at court was busily engaged with his own affairs, a man
mysteriously took up his post behind the Place de Greve, in the house
which we once saw besieged by D'Artagnan on the occasion of the
_emeute_. The principal entrance of the house was in the Place Baudoyer;
it was tolerably large, surrounded by gardens, inclosed in the Rue Saint-
Jean by the shops of toolmakers, which protected it from prying looks,
and was walled in by a triple rampart of stone, noise, and verdure, like
an embalmed mummy in its triple coffin. The man we have just alluded to
walked along with a firm step, although he was no longer in his early
prime. His dark cloak and long sword plainly revealed one who seemed in
search of adventures; and, judging from his curling mustache, his fine
smooth skin, which could be seen beneath his _sombrero_, it would not
have been difficult to pronounce that gallantry had not a little share in
his adventures. In fact, hardly had the cavalier entered the house, when
the clock struck eight; and ten minutes afterwards a lady, followed by a
servant armed to the teeth, approached and knocked at the same door,
which an old woman immediately opened for her. The lady raised her veil
as she entered; though no longer beautiful or young, she was still active
and of an imposing carriage. She concealed, beneath a rich toilette and
the most exquisite taste, an age which Ninon de l'Enclos alone could have
smiled at with impunity. Hardly had she reached the vestibule, when the
cavalier, whose features we have only roughly sketched, advanced towards
her, holding out his hand.

"God day, my dear duchesse," he said.

"How do you do, my dear Aramis?" replied the duchesse.

He led her to a most elegantly furnished apartment, on whose high windows
were reflected the expiring rays of the setting sun, which filtered
gaudily through the dark green needles of the adjacent firs. They sat
down side by side. Neither of them thought of asking for additional
light in the room, and they buried themselves as it were in the shadow,
as if they wished to bury themselves in forgetfulness.

"Chevalier," said the duchesse, "you have never given me a single sign of
life since our interview at Fontainebleau, and I confess that your
presence there on the day of the Franciscan's death, and your initiation
in certain secrets, caused me the liveliest astonishment I ever
experienced in my whole life."

"I can explain my presence there to you, as well as my initiation," said
Aramis.

"But let us, first of all," said the duchess, "talk a little of
ourselves, for our friendship is by no means of recent date."

"Yes, madame: and if Heaven wills it, we shall continue