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Chapter 52
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The Round of M. de Gesvres
D’Artagnan was not accustomed to resistances like that he had just experienced. He returned profoundly irritated to Nantes. Irritation, with this vigorous man, vented itself in an impetuous attack which few people hitherto, were they King, were they giants, had been able to resist. D’Artagnan, trembling with rage, went straight to the castle, and asked to speak to the King. It might have been about seven o’clock in the morning; and since his arrival at Nantes the King had been an early riser. But on arriving at the little corridor with which we are acquainted, d’Artagnan found M. de Gesvres, who stopped him very politely, telling him not to speak too loud lest he should disturb the King. “Is the King asleep?” said d’Artagnan. “Well, I will let him sleep; but about what o’clock do you suppose he will rise?”
“Oh, in about two hours; the King has been up all night.”
D’Artagnan took his hat again, bowed to M. de Gesvres, and returned to his own apartments. He came back at half-past nine, and was told that the King was at breakfast. “That will just suit me,” said d’Artagnan; “I will talk to the King while he is eating.”
M. de Brienne reminded d’Artagnan that the King would not receive any one during his repasts.
“But,” said d’Artagnan, looking askant at De Brienne, “you do not know, perhaps, Monsieur, that I have the privilege of entree anywhere and at any hour.”
De Brienne took the hand of the captain kindly and said, “Not at Nantes, dear M. d’Artagnan; the King in this journey has changed everything.”
D’Artagnan, a little softened, asked about what o’clock the King would have finished his breakfast.
“We don’t know.”
“How! don’t know,- what does that mean? You don’t know how much time the King devotes to eating? It is generally an hour; and if we admit that the air of the Loire gives an additional appetite, we will extend it to an hour and a half; that is enough, I think. I will wait where I am.”
“Oh, dear M. d’Artagnan, the order is not to allow any person to remain in this corridor; I am on guard for that purpose.”
D’Artagnan felt his anger mounting a second time to his brain. He went out quickly, for fear of complicating the affair by a display of ill-humor. As soon as he was out he began to reflect. “The King,” said he, “will not receive me,- that is evident. The young man is angry; he is afraid of the words I may speak to him. Yes; but in the mean time Belle-Isle is besieged, and my two friends will be taken or killed. Poor Porthos! As to Aramis, he is always full of resources, and I am
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