["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> 23 THE RENDEZVOUS\n\n\nD'Artagnan ran home immediately, and although it was three o'clock in\nthe morning and he had some of the worst quarters of Paris to traverse,\nhe met with no misadventure. Everyone knows that drunkards and lovers\nhave a protecting deity. He found the door of his passage open, sprang up the stairs and knocked\nsoftly in a manner agreed upon between him and his lackey. Planchet*,\nwhom he had sent home two hours before from the Hotel de Ville, telling\nhim to sit up for him, opened the door for him. _*The reader may ask, \"How came Planchet here?\" when he was left\n            \"stiff as a rush\" in London. In the intervening time\n            Buckingham perhaps sent him to Paris, as he did the\n            horses._\n\n\"Has anyone brought a letter for me?\" asked d'Artagnan, eagerly. \"No one has BROUGHT a letter, monsieur,\" replied Planchet; \"but one has\ncome of itself.\" \"What do you mean, blockhead?\" \"I mean to say that when I came in, although I had the key of your\napartment in my pocket, and that key had never quit me, I found a letter\non the green table cover in your bedroom.\" \"And where is that letter?\" \"I left it where I found it, monsieur. It is not natural for letters to\nenter people's houses in this manner. If the window had been open or\neven ajar, I should think nothing of it; but, no--all was hermetically\nsealed. Beware, monsieur; there is certainly some magic underneath.\" Meanwhile, the young man had darted in to his chamber, and opened the\nletter. It was from Mme. Bonacieux, and was expressed in these terms:\n\n\"There are many thanks to be offered to you, and to be transmitted to\nyou. Be this evening about ten o'clock at St. Cloud, in front of the\npavilion which stands at the corner of the house of M. d'Estrees.--C.B.\" While reading this letter, d'Artagnan felt his heart dilated and\ncompressed by that delicious spasm which tortures and caresses the\nhearts of lovers. It was the first billet he had received; it was the first rendezvous\nthat had been granted him. His heart, swelled by the intoxication of\njoy, felt ready to dissolve away at the very gate of that terrestrial\nparadise called Love! \"Well, monsieur,\" said Planchet, who had observed his master grow red\nand pale successively, \"did I not guess truly? Is it not some bad\naffair?\" \"You are mistaken, Planchet,\" replied d'Artagnan; \"and as a proof, there\nis a crown to drink my health.\" \"I am much obliged to Monsieur for the crown he had given me, and I\npromise him to follow his instructions exactly; but it is not the less\ntrue that letters which come in this way into shut-up houses--\"\n\n\"Fall from heaven, my friend, fall from heaven.\" \"Then Monsieur is satisfied?\" asked Planchet. \"My dear Planchet, I am the happiest of men!\" \"And I may profit by Monsieur's happiness, and go to bed?\" \"Yes, go.\" \"May the blessings of heaven fall upon Monsieur! But it is not the less\ntrue that that letter--\"\n\nAnd Planchet retired, shaking his head with an air of doubt, which the\nliberality of d'Artagnan had not entirely effaced. Left alone, d'Artagnan read and reread his billet. Then he kissed and\nrekissed twenty times the lines traced by the hand of his beautiful\nmistress. At length he went to bed, fell asleep, and had golden dreams. At seven o'clock in the morning he arose and called Planchet, who at the\nsecond summons opened the door, his countenance not yet quite freed from\nthe anxiety of the preceding night. \"Planchet,\" said d'Artagnan, \"I am going out for all day, perhaps. You\nare, therefore, your own master till seven o'clock in the evening; but\nat seven o'clock you must hold yourself in readiness with two horses.\" \"There!\" said Planchet. \"We are going again, it appears, to have our\nhides pierced in all sorts of ways.\" \"You will take your musketoon and your pistols.\" \"There, now! Didn't I say so?\" cried Planchet. \"I was sure of it--the\ncursed letter!\" \"Don't be afraid, you idiot; there is nothing in hand but a party of\npleasure.\" \"Ah, like the charming journey the other day, when it rained bullets and\nproduced a crop of steel traps!\" \"Well, if you are really afraid, Monsieur Planchet,\" resumed d'Artagnan,\n\"I will go without you. I prefer traveling alone to having a companion\nwho entertains the least fear.\" \"Monsieur does me wrong,\" said Planchet; \"I thought he had seen me at\nwork.\" \"Yes, but I thought perhaps you had worn out all your courage the first\ntime.\" \"Monsieur shall see that upon occasion I have some left; only I beg\nMonsieur not to be too prodigal of it if he wishes it to last long.\" \"Do you believe you have still a certain amount of it to expend this\nevening?\" \"I hope so, monsieur.\" \"Well, then, I count on you.\" \"At the appointed hour I shall be ready; only I believed that Monsieur\nhad but one horse in the Guard stables.\" \"Perhaps there is but one at this moment; but by this evening there will\nbe four.\" \"It appears that our journey was a remounting journey, then?\" \"Exactly so,\" said d'Artagnan; and nodding to Planchet, he went out. M Bonacieux was at his door. D'Artagnan's intention was to go out\nwithout speaking to the worthy mercer; but the latter made so polite and\nfriendly a salutation that his tenant felt obliged, not only to stop,\nbut to enter into conversation with him. Besides, how is it possible to avoid a little condescension toward a\nhusband whose pretty wife has appointed a meeting with you that same\nevening at St. Cloud, opposite D'Estrees's pavilion? D'Artagnan\napproached him with the most amiable air he could assume. The conversation naturally fell upon the incarceration of the poor man. M. Bonacieux, who was ignorant that d'Artagnan had overheard his\nconversation with the stranger of Meung, related to his young tenant the\npersecutions of that monster, M. de Laffemas, whom he never ceased to\ndesignate, during his account, by the title of the \"cardinal's\nexecutioner,\" and expatiated at great length upon the Bastille, the\nbolts, the wickets, the dungeons, the gratings, the instruments of\ntorture. D'Artagnan listened to him with exemplary complaisance, and when he had\nfinished said, \"And Madame Bonacieux, do you know who carried her\noff?--For I do not forget that I owe to that unpleasant circumstance the\ngood fortune of having made your acquaintance.\" \"Ah!\" said Bonacieux, \"they took good care not to tell me that; and my\nwife, on her part, has sworn to me by all that's sacred that she does\nnot know. But you,\" continued M. Bonacieux, in a tine of perfect good\nfellowship, \"what has become of you all these days? I have not seen you\nnor your friends, and I don't think you could gather all that dust that\nI saw Planchet brush off your boots yesterday from the pavement of\nParis.\" \"You are right, my dear Monsieur Bonacieux, my friends and I have been\non a little journey.\" \"Far from here?\" \"Oh, Lord, no! About forty leagues only. We went to take Monsieur Athos\nto the waters of Forges, where my friends still remain.\" \"And you have returned, have you not?\" replied M. Bonacieux, giving to\nhis countenance a most sly air. \"A handsome young fellow like you does\nnot obtain long leaves of absence from his mistress; and we were\nimpatiently waited for at Paris, were we not?\" \"My faith!\" said the young man, laughing, \"I confess it, and so much\nmore the readily, my dear Bonacieux, as I see there is no concealing\nanything from you. Yes, I was expected, and very impatiently, I\nacknowledge.\" A slight shade passed over the brow of Bonacieux, but so slight that\nd'Artagnan did not perceive it. \"And we are going to be recompensed for our diligence?\" continued the\nmercer, with a trifling alteration in his voice--so trifling, indeed,\nthat d'Artagnan did not perceive it any more than he had the momentary\nshade which, an instant before, had darkened the countenance of the\nworthy man. \"Ah, may you be a true prophet!\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-03 The user is reading a book]\n<User> said d'Artagnan, laughing. \"No; what I say,\" replied Bonacieux, \"is only that I may know whether I\nam delaying you.\" \"Why that question, my dear host?\" asked d'Artagnan. \"Do you intend to\nsit up for me?\" \"No; but since my arrest and the robbery that was committed in my house,\nI am alarmed every time I hear a door open, particularly in the night. What the deuce can you expect? I am no swordsman.\" \"Well, don't be alarmed if I return at one, two or three o'clock in the\nmorning; indeed, do not be alarmed if I do not come at all.\" This time Bonacieux became so pale that d'Artagnan could not help\nperceiving it, and asked him what was the matter. \"Nothing,\" replied Bonacieux, \"nothing. Since my misfortunes I have been\nsubject to faintnesses, which seize me all at once, and I have just felt\na cold shiver. Pay no attention to it; you have nothing to occupy\nyourself with but being happy.\" \"Then I have full occupation, for I am so.\" \"Not yet; wait a little! This evening, you said.\" \"Well, this evening will come, thank God! And perhaps you look for it\nwith as much impatience as I do; perhaps this evening Madame Bonacieux\nwill visit the conjugal domicile.\" \"Madame Bonacieux is not at liberty this evening,\" replied the husband,\nseriously; \"she is detained at the Louvre this evening by her duties.\" \"So much the worse for you, my dear host, so much the worse! When I am\nhappy, I wish all the world to be so; but it appears that is not\npossible.\" The young man departed, laughing at the joke, which he thought he alone\ncould comprehend. \"Amuse yourself well!\" replied Bonacieux, in a sepulchral tone. But d'Artagnan was too far off to hear him; and if he had heard him in\nthe disposition of mind he then enjoyed, he certainly would not have\nremarked it. He took his way toward the hotel of M. de Treville; his visit of the day\nbefore, it is to be remembered, had been very short and very little\nexplicative. He found Treville in a joyful mood. He had thought the king and queen\ncharming at the ball. It is true the cardinal had been particularly\nill-tempered. He had retired at one o'clock under the pretense of being\nindisposed. As to their Majesties, they did not return to the Louvre\ntill six o'clock in the morning. \"Now,\" said Treville, lowering his voice, and looking into every corner\nof the apartment to see if they were alone, \"now let us talk about\nyourself, my young friend; for it is evident that your happy return has\nsomething to do with the joy of the king, the triumph of the queen, and\nthe humiliation of his Eminence. You must look out for yourself.\" \"What have I to fear,\" replied d'Artagnan, \"as long as I shall have the\nluck to enjoy the favor of their Majesties?\" \"Everything, believe me. The cardinal is not the man to forget a\nmystification until he has settled account with the mystifier; and the\nmystifier appears to me to have the air of being a certain young Gascon\nof my acquaintance.\" \"Do you believe that the cardinal is as well posted as yourself, and\nknows that I have been to London?\" \"The devil! You have been to London! Was it from London you brought that\nbeautiful diamond that glitters on your finger? Beware, my dear\nd'Artagnan! A present from an enemy is not a good thing. Are there not\nsome Latin verses upon that subject? Stop!\" \"Yes, doubtless,\" replied d'Artagnan, who had never been able to cram\nthe first rudiments of that language into his head, and who had by his\nignorance driven his master to despair, \"yes, doubtless there is one.\" \"There certainly is one,\" said M. de Treville, who had a tincture of\nliterature, \"and Monsieur de Benserade was quoting it to me the other\nday. Stop a minute--ah, this is it: 'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes,'\nwhich means, 'Beware of the enemy who makes you presents.\" \"This diamond does not come from an enemy, monsieur,\" replied\nd'Artagnan, \"it comes from the queen.\" \"From the queen! Oh, oh!\" said M. de Treville. \"Why, it is indeed a true\nroyal jewel, which is worth a thousand pistoles if it is worth a denier. By whom did the queen send you this jewel?\" \"She gave it to me herself.\" \"Where?\" \"In the room adjoining the chamber in which she changed her toilet.\" \"How?\" \"Giving me her hand to kiss.\" \"You have kissed the queen's hand?\" said M. de Treville, looking\nearnestly at d'Artagnan. \"Her Majesty did me the honor to grant me that favor.\" \"And that in the presence of witnesses! Imprudent, thrice imprudent!\" \"No, monsieur, be satisfied; nobody saw her,\" replied d'Artagnan, and he\nrelated to M. de Treville how the affair came to pass. \"Oh, the women, the women!\" cried the old soldier. \"I know them by their\nromantic imagination. Everything that savors of mystery charms them. So\nyou have seen the arm, that was all. You would meet the queen, and she\nwould not know who you are?\" \"No; but thanks to this diamond,\" replied the young man. \"Listen,\" said M. de Treville; \"shall I give you counsel, good counsel,\nthe counsel of a friend?\" \"You will do me honor, monsieur,\" said d'Artagnan. \"Well, then, off to the nearest goldsmith's, and sell that diamond for\nthe highest price you can get from him. However much of a Jew he may be,\nhe will give you at least eight hundred pistoles. Pistoles have no name,\nyoung man, and that ring has a terrible one, which may betray him who\nwears it.\" \"Sell this ring, a ring which comes from my sovereign? Never!\" said\nd'Artagnan. \"Then, at least turn the gem inside, you silly fellow; for everybody\nmust be aware that a cadet from Gascony does not find such stones in his\nmother's jewel case.\" \"You think, then, I have something to dread?\" asked d'Artagnan. \"I mean to say, young man, that he who sleeps over a mine the match of\nwhich is already lighted, may consider himself in safety in comparison\nwith you.\" \"The devil!\" said d'Artagnan, whom the positive tone of M. de Treville\nbegan to disquiet, \"the devil! What must I do?\" \"Above all things be always on your guard. The cardinal has a tenacious\nmemory and a long arm; you may depend upon it, he will repay you by some\nill turn.\" \"But of what sort?\" \"Eh! How can I tell? Has he not all the tricks of a demon at his\ncommand? The least that can be expected is that you will be arrested.\" \"What! Will they dare to arrest a man in his Majesty's service?\" \"PARDIEU! They did not scruple much in the case of Athos. At all events,\nyoung man, rely upon one who has been thirty years at court. Do not lull\nyourself in security, or you will be lost; but, on the contrary--and it\nis I who say it--see enemies in all directions. If anyone seeks a\nquarrel with you, shun it, were it with a child of ten years old. If you\nare attacked by day or by night, fight, but retreat, without shame; if\nyou cross a bridge, feel every plank of it with your foot, lest one\nshould give way beneath you; if you pass before a house which is being\nbuilt, look up, for fear a stone should fall upon your head; if you stay\nout late, be always followed by your lackey, and let your lackey be\narmed--if, by the by, you can be sure of your lackey. Mistrust\neverybody, your friend, your brother, your mistress--your mistress above\nall.\" D'Artagnan blushed. \"My mistress above all,\" repeated he, mechanically; \"and why her rather\nthan another?\" \"Because a mistress is one of the cardinal's favorite means; he has not\none that is more expeditious. A woman will sell you for ten pistoles,\nwitness Delilah. You are acquainted with the Scriptures?\" D'Artagnan thought of the appointment Mme.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-03, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Bonacieux had made with him\nfor that very evening; but we are bound to say, to the credit of our\nhero, that the bad opinion entertained by M. de Treville of women in\ngeneral, did not inspire him with the least suspicion of his pretty\nhostess. \"But, A PROPOS,\" resumed M. de Treville, \"what has become of your three\ncompanions?\" \"I was about to ask you if you had heard any news of them?\" \"None, monsieur.\" \"Well, I left them on my road--Porthos at Chantilly, with a duel on his\nhands; Aramis at Crevecoeur, with a ball in his shoulder; and Athos at\nAmiens, detained by an accusation of coining.\" \"See there, now!\" said M. de Treville; \"and how the devil did you\nescape?\" \"By a miracle, monsieur, I must acknowledge, with a sword thrust in my\nbreast, and by nailing the Comte de Wardes on the byroad to Calais, like\na butterfly on a tapestry.\" \"There again! De Wardes, one of the cardinal's men, a cousin of\nRochefort! Stop, my friend, I have an idea.\" \"Speak, monsieur.\" \"In your place, I would do one thing.\" \"What?\" \"While his Eminence was seeking for me in Paris, I would take, without\nsound of drum or trumpet, the road to Picardy, and would go and make\nsome inquiries concerning my three companions. What the devil! They\nmerit richly that piece of attention on your part.\" \"The advice is good, monsieur, and tomorrow I will set out.\" \"Tomorrow! Any why not this evening?\" \"This evening, monsieur, I am detained in Paris by indispensable\nbusiness.\" \"Ah, young man, young man, some flirtation or other. Take care, I repeat\nto you, take care. It is woman who has ruined us, still ruins us, and\nwill ruin us, as long as the world stands. Take my advice and set out\nthis evening.\" \"Impossible, monsieur.\" \"You have given your word, then?\" \"Yes, monsieur.\" \"Ah, that's quite another thing; but promise me, if you should not be\nkilled tonight, that you will go tomorrow.\" \"I promise it.\" \"Do you need money?\" \"I have still fifty pistoles. That, I think, is as much as I shall\nwant.\" \"But your companions?\" \"I don't think they can be in need of any. We left Paris, each with\nseventy-five pistoles in his pocket.\" \"Shall I see you again before your departure?\" \"I think not, monsieur, unless something new should happen.\" \"Well, a pleasant journey.\" \"Thanks, monsieur.\" D'Artagnan left M. de Treville, touched more than ever by his paternal\nsolicitude for his Musketeers. He called successively at the abodes of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. Neither of them had returned. Their lackeys likewise were absent, and\nnothing had been heard of either the one or the other. He would have\ninquired after them of their mistresses, but he was neither acquainted\nwith Porthos's nor Aramis's, and as to Athos, he had none. As he passed the Hotel des Gardes, he took a glance in to the stables. Three of the four horses had already arrived. Planchet, all\nastonishment, was busy grooming them, and had already finished two. \"Ah, monsieur,\" said Planchet, on perceiving d'Artagnan, \"how glad I am\nto see you.\" \"Why so, Planchet?\" asked the young man. \"Do you place confidence in our landlord--Monsieur Bonacieux?\" \"I? Not the least in the world.\" \"Oh, you do quite right, monsieur.\" \"But why this question?\" \"Because, while you were talking with him, I watched you without\nlistening to you; and, monsieur, his countenance changed color two or\nthree times!\" \"Bah!\" \"Preoccupied as Monsieur was with the letter he had received, he did not\nobserve that; but I, whom the strange fashion in which that letter came\ninto the house had placed on my guard--I did not lose a movement of his\nfeatures.\" \"And you found it?\" \"Traitorous, monsieur.\" \"Indeed!\" \"Still more; as soon as Monsieur had left and disappeared round the\ncorner of the street, Monsieur Bonacieux took his hat, shut his door,\nand set off at a quick pace in an opposite direction.\" \"It seems you are right, Planchet; all this appears to be a little\nmysterious; and be assured that we will not pay him our rent until the\nmatter shall be categorically explained to us.\" \"Monsieur jests, but Monsieur will see.\" \"What would you have, Planchet? What must come is written.\" \"Monsieur does not then renounce his excursion for this evening?\" \"Quite the contrary, Planchet; the more ill will I have toward Monsieur\nBonacieux, the more punctual I shall be in keeping the appointment made\nby that letter which makes you so uneasy.\" \"Then that is Monsieur's determination?\" \"Undeniably, my friend. At nine o'clock, then, be ready here at the\nhotel, I will come and take you.\" Planchet seeing there was no longer any hope of making his master\nrenounce his project, heaved a profound sigh and set to work to groom\nthe third horse. As to d'Artagnan, being at bottom a prudent youth, instead of returning\nhome, went and dined with the Gascon priest, who, at the time of the\ndistress of the four friends, had given them a breakfast of chocolate. 24 THE PAVILION\n\n\nAt nine o'clock d'Artagnan was at the Hotel des Gardes; he found\nPlanchet all ready. The fourth horse had arrived. Planchet was armed with his musketoon and a pistol. D'Artagnan had his\nsword and placed two pistols in his belt; then both mounted and departed\nquietly. It was quite dark, and no one saw them go out. Planchet took\nplace behind his master, and kept at a distance of ten paces from him. D'Artagnan crossed the quays, went out by the gate of La Conference and\nfollowed the road, much more beautiful then than it is now, which leads\nto St. Cloud. As long as he was in the city, Planchet kept at the respectful distance\nhe had imposed upon himself; but as soon as the road began to be more\nlonely and dark, he drew softly nearer, so that when they entered the\nBois de Boulogne he found himself riding quite naturally side by side\nwith his master. In fact, we must not dissemble that the oscillation of\nthe tall trees and the reflection of the moon in the dark underwood gave\nhim serious uneasiness. D'Artagnan could not help perceiving that\nsomething more than usual was passing in the mind of his lackey and\nsaid, \"Well, Monsieur Planchet, what is the matter with us now?\" \"Don't you think, monsieur, that woods are like churches?\" \"How so, Planchet?\" \"Because we dare not speak aloud in one or the other.\" \"But why did you not dare to speak aloud, Planchet--because you are\nafraid?\" \"Afraid of being heard? Yes, monsieur.\" \"Afraid of being heard! Why, there is nothing improper in our\nconversation, my dear Planchet, and no one could find fault with it.\" \"Ah, monsieur!\" replied Planchet, recurring to his besetting idea, \"that\nMonsieur Bonacieux has something vicious in his eyebrows, and something\nvery unpleasant in the play of his lips.\" \"What the devil makes you think of Bonacieux?\" \"Monsieur, we think of what we can, and not of what we will.\" \"Because you are a coward, Planchet.\" \"Monsieur, we must not confound prudence with cowardice; prudence is a\nvirtue.\" \"And you are very virtuous, are you not, Planchet?\" \"Monsieur, is not that the barrel of a musket which glitters yonder? Had\nwe not better lower our heads?\" \"In truth,\" murmured d'Artagnan, to whom M. de Treville's recommendation\nrecurred, \"this animal will end by making me afraid.\" And he put his\nhorse into a trot. Planchet followed the movements of his master as if he had been his\nshadow, and was soon trotting by his side. \"Are we going to continue this pace all night?\" asked Planchet. \"No; you are at your journey's end.\" \"How, monsieur! And you?\" \"I am going a few steps farther.\" \"And Monsieur leaves me here alone?\" \"You are afraid, Planchet?\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-08 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"No; I only beg leave to observe to Monsieur that the night will be very\ncold, that chills bring on rheumatism, and that a lackey who has the\nrheumatism makes but a poor servant, particularly to a master as active\nas Monsieur.\" \"Well, if you are cold, Planchet, you can go into one of those cabarets\nthat you see yonder, and be in waiting for me at the door by six o'clock\nin the morning.\" \"Monsieur, I have eaten and drunk respectfully the crown you gave me\nthis morning, so that I have not a sou left in case I should be cold.\" \"Here's half a pistole. Tomorrow morning.\" D'Artagnan sprang from his horse, threw the bridle to Planchet, and\ndeparted at a quick pace, folding his cloak around him. \"Good Lord, how cold I am!\" cried Planchet, as soon as he had lost sight\nof his master; and in such haste was he to warm himself that he went\nstraight to a house set out with all the attributes of a suburban\ntavern, and knocked at the door. In the meantime d'Artagnan, who had plunged into a bypath, continued his\nroute and reached St. Cloud; but instead of following the main street he\nturned behind the chateau, reached a sort of retired lane, and found\nhimself soon in front of the pavilion named. It was situated in a very\nprivate spot. A high wall, at the angle of which was the pavilion, ran\nalong one side of this lane, and on the other was a little garden\nconnected with a poor cottage which was protected by a hedge from\npassers-by. He gained the place appointed, and as no signal had been given him by\nwhich to announce his presence, he waited. Not the least noise was to be heard; it might be imagined that he was a\nhundred miles from the capital. D'Artagnan leaned against the hedge,\nafter having cast a glance behind it. Beyond that hedge, that garden,\nand that cottage, a dark mist enveloped with its folds that immensity\nwhere Paris slept--a vast void from which glittered a few luminous\npoints, the funeral stars of that hell! But for d'Artagnan all aspects were clothed happily, all ideas wore a\nsmile, all shades were diaphanous. The appointed hour was about to\nstrike. In fact, at the end of a few minutes the belfry of St. Cloud let\nfall slowly ten strokes from its sonorous jaws. There was something\nmelancholy in this brazen voice pouring out its lamentations in the\nmiddle of the night; but each of those strokes, which made up the\nexpected hour, vibrated harmoniously to the heart of the young man. His eyes were fixed upon the little pavilion situated at the angle of\nthe wall, of which all the windows were closed with shutters, except one\non the first story. Through this window shone a mild light which\nsilvered the foliage of two or three linden trees which formed a group\noutside the park. There could be no doubt that behind this little\nwindow, which threw forth such friendly beams, the pretty Mme. Bonacieux\nexpected him. Wrapped in this sweet idea, d'Artagnan waited half an hour without the\nleast impatience, his eyes fixed upon that charming little abode of\nwhich he could perceive a part of the ceiling with its gilded moldings,\nattesting the elegance of the rest of the apartment. The belfry of St. Cloud sounded half past ten. This time, without knowing why, d'Artagnan felt a cold shiver run\nthrough his veins. Perhaps the cold began to affect him, and he took a\nperfectly physical sensation for a moral impression. Then the idea seized him that he had read incorrectly, and that the\nappointment was for eleven o'clock. He drew near to the window, and\nplacing himself so that a ray of light should fall upon the letter as he\nheld it, he drew it from his pocket and read it again; but he had not\nbeen mistaken, the appointment was for ten o'clock. He went and resumed\nhis post, beginning to be rather uneasy at this silence and this\nsolitude. Eleven o'clock sounded. D'Artagnan began now really to fear that something had happened to Mme. Bonacieux. He clapped his hands three times--the ordinary signal of\nlovers; but nobody replied to him, not even an echo. He then thought, with a touch of vexation, that perhaps the young woman\nhad fallen asleep while waiting for him. He approached the wall, and\ntried to climb it; but the wall had been recently pointed, and\nd'Artagnan could get no hold. At that moment he thought of the trees, upon whose leaves the light\nstill shone; and as one of them drooped over the road, he thought that\nfrom its branches he might get a glimpse of the interior of the\npavilion. The tree was easy to climb. Besides, d'Artagnan was but twenty years\nold, and consequently had not yet forgotten his schoolboy habits. In an\ninstant he was among the branches, and his keen eyes plunged through the\ntransparent panes into the interior of the pavilion. It was a strange thing, and one which made d'Artagnan tremble from the\nsole of his foot to the roots of his hair, to find that this soft light,\nthis calm lamp, enlightened a scene of fearful disorder. One of the\nwindows was broken, the door of the chamber had been beaten in and hung,\nsplit in two, on its hinges. A table, which had been covered with an\nelegant supper, was overturned. The decanters broken in pieces, and the\nfruits crushed, strewed the floor. Everything in the apartment gave\nevidence of a violent and desperate struggle. D'Artagnan even fancied he\ncould recognize amid this strange disorder, fragments of garments, and\nsome bloody spots staining the cloth and the curtains. He hastened to\ndescend into the street, with a frightful beating at his heart; he\nwished to see if he could find other traces of violence. The little soft light shone on in the calmness of the night. D'Artagnan\nthen perceived a thing that he had not before remarked--for nothing had\nled him to the examination--that the ground, trampled here and\nhoofmarked there, presented confused traces of men and horses. Besides,\nthe wheels of a carriage, which appeared to have come from Paris, had\nmade a deep impression in the soft earth, which did not extend beyond\nthe pavilion, but turned again toward Paris. At length d'Artagnan, in pursuing his researches, found near the wall a\nwoman's torn glove. This glove, wherever it had not touched the muddy\nground, was of irreproachable odor. It was one of those perfumed gloves\nthat lovers like to snatch from a pretty hand. As d'Artagnan pursued his investigations, a more abundant and more icy\nsweat rolled in large drops from his forehead; his heart was oppressed\nby a horrible anguish; his respiration was broken and short. And yet he\nsaid, to reassure himself, that this pavilion perhaps had nothing in\ncommon with Mme. Bonacieux; that the young woman had made an appointment\nwith him before the pavilion, and not in the pavilion; that she might\nhave been detained in Paris by her duties, or perhaps by the jealousy of\nher husband. But all these reasons were combated, destroyed, overthrown, by that\nfeeling of intimate pain which, on certain occasions, takes possession\nof our being, and cries to us so as to be understood unmistakably that\nsome great misfortune is hanging over us. Then d'Artagnan became almost wild. He ran along the high road, took the\npath he had before taken, and reaching the ferry, interrogated the\nboatman. About seven o'clock in the evening, the boatman had taken over a young\nwoman, wrapped in a black mantle, who appeared to be very anxious not to\nbe recognized; but entirely on account of her precautions, the boatman\nhad paid more attention to her and discovered that she was young and\npretty. There were then, as now, a crowd of young and pretty women who came to\nSt. Cloud, and who had reasons for not being seen, and yet d'Artagnan\ndid not for an instant doubt that it was Mme. Bonacieux whom the boatman\nhad noticed. D'Artagnan took advantage of the lamp which burned in the cabin of the\nferryman to read the billet of Mme. Bonacieux once again, and satisfy\nhimself that he had not been mistaken, that the appointment was at St. Cloud and not elsewhere, before the D'Estrees's pavilion and not in\nanother street. Everything conspired to prove to d'Artagnan that his\npresentiments had not deceived him, and that a great misfortune had\nhappened. He again ran back to the chateau. It appeared to him that something\nmight have happened at the pavilion in his absence, and that fresh\ninformation awaited him.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-08, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-10 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The lane was still deserted, and the same calm\nsoft light shone through the window. D'Artagnan then thought of that cottage, silent and obscure, which had\nno doubt seen all, and could tell its tale. The gate of the enclosure\nwas shut; but he leaped over the hedge, and in spite of the barking of a\nchained-up dog, went up to the cabin. No one answered to his first knocking. A silence of death reigned in the\ncabin as in the pavilion; but as the cabin was his last resource, he\nknocked again. It soon appeared to him that he heard a slight noise within--a timid\nnoise which seemed to tremble lest it should be heard. Then d'Artagnan ceased knocking, and prayed with an accent so full of\nanxiety and promises, terror and cajolery, that his voice was of a\nnature to reassure the most fearful. At length an old, worm-eaten\nshutter was opened, or rather pushed ajar, but closed again as soon as\nthe light from a miserable lamp which burned in the corner had shone\nupon the baldric, sword belt, and pistol pommels of d'Artagnan. Nevertheless, rapid as the movement had been, d'Artagnan had had time to\nget a glimpse of the head of an old man. \"In the name of heaven!\" cried he, \"listen to me; I have been waiting\nfor someone who has not come. I am dying with anxiety. Has anything\nparticular happened in the neighborhood? Speak!\" The window was again opened slowly, and the same face appeared, only it\nwas now still more pale than before. D'Artagnan related his story simply, with the omission of names. He told\nhow he had a rendezvous with a young woman before that pavilion, and\nhow, not seeing her come, he had climbed the linden tree, and by the\nlight of the lamp had seen the disorder of the chamber. The old man listened attentively, making a sign only that it was all so;\nand then, when d'Artagnan had ended, he shook his head with an air that\nannounced nothing good. \"What do you mean?\" cried d'Artagnan. \"In the name of heaven, explain\nyourself!\" \"Oh! Monsieur,\" said the old man, \"ask me nothing; for if I dared tell\nyou what I have seen, certainly no good would befall me.\" \"You have, then, seen something?\" replied d'Artagnan. \"In that case, in\nthe name of heaven,\" continued he, throwing him a pistole, \"tell me what\nyou have seen, and I will pledge you the word of a gentleman that not\none of your words shall escape from my heart.\" The old man read so much truth and so much grief in the face of the\nyoung man that he made him a sign to listen, and repeated in a low\nvoice: \"It was scarcely nine o'clock when I heard a noise in the street,\nand was wondering what it could be, when on coming to my door, I found\nthat somebody was endeavoring to open it. As I am very poor and am not\nafraid of being robbed, I went and opened the gate and saw three men at\na few paces from it. In the shadow was a carriage with two horses, and\nsome saddlehorses. These horses evidently belonged to the three men, who\nwere dressed as cavaliers. 'Ah, my worthy gentlemen,' cried I, 'what do\nyou want?' 'You must have a ladder?' said he who appeared to be the\nleader of the party. 'Yes, monsieur, the one with which I gather my\nfruit.' 'Lend it to us, and go into your house again; there is a crown\nfor the annoyance we have caused you. Only remember this--if you speak a\nword of what you may see or what you may hear (for you will look and you\nwill listen, I am quite sure, however we may threaten you), you are\nlost.' At these words he threw me a crown, which I picked up, and he\ntook the ladder. After shutting the gate behind them, I pretended to\nreturn to the house, but I immediately went out a back door, and\nstealing along in the shade of the hedge, I gained yonder clump of\nelder, from which I could hear and see everything. The three men brought\nthe carriage up quietly, and took out of it a little man, stout, short,\nelderly, and commonly dressed in clothes of a dark color, who ascended\nthe ladder very carefully, looked suspiciously in at the window of the\npavilion, came down as quietly as he had gone up, and whispered, 'It is\nshe!' Immediately, he who had spoken to me approached the door of the\npavilion, opened it with a key he had in his hand, closed the door and\ndisappeared, while at the same time the other two men ascended the\nladder. The little old man remained at the coach door; the coachman took\ncare of his horses, the lackey held the saddlehorses. All at once great\ncries resounded in the pavilion, and a woman came to the window, and\nopened it, as if to throw herself out of it; but as soon as she\nperceived the other two men, she fell back and they went into the\nchamber. Then I saw no more; but I heard the noise of breaking\nfurniture. The woman screamed, and cried for help; but her cries were\nsoon stifled. Two of the men appeared, bearing the woman in their arms,\nand carried her to the carriage, into which the little old man got after\nher. The leader closed the window, came out an instant after by the\ndoor, and satisfied himself that the woman was in the carriage. His two\ncompanions were already on horseback. He sprang into his saddle; the\nlackey took his place by the coachman; the carriage went off at a quick\npace, escorted by the three horsemen, and all was over. From that moment\nI have neither seen nor heard anything.\" D'Artagnan, entirely overcome by this terrible story, remained\nmotionless and mute, while all the demons of anger and jealousy were\nhowling in his heart. \"But, my good gentleman,\" resumed the old man, upon whom this mute\ndespair certainly produced a greater effect than cries and tears would\nhave done, \"do not take on so; they did not kill her, and that's a\ncomfort.\" \"Can you guess,\" said d'Artagnan, \"who was the man who headed this\ninfernal expedition?\" \"I don't know him.\" \"But as you spoke to him you must have seen him.\" \"Oh, it's a description you want?\" \"Exactly so.\" \"A tall, dark man, with black mustaches, dark eyes, and the air of a\ngentleman.\" \"That's the man!\" cried d'Artagnan, \"again he, forever he! He is my\ndemon, apparently. And the other?\" \"Which?\" \"The short one.\" \"Oh, he was not a gentleman, I'll answer for it; besides, he did not\nwear a sword, and the others treated him with small consideration.\" \"Some lackey,\" murmured d'Artagnan. \"Poor woman, poor woman, what have\nthey done with you?\" \"You have promised to be secret, my good monsieur?\" said the old man. \"And I renew my promise. Be easy, I am a gentleman. A gentleman has but\nhis word, and I have given you mine.\" With a heavy heart, d'Artagnan again bent his way toward the ferry. Sometimes he hoped it could not be Mme. Bonacieux, and that he should\nfind her next day at the Louvre; sometimes he feared she had had an\nintrigue with another, who, in a jealous fit, had surprised her and\ncarried her off. His mind was torn by doubt, grief, and despair. \"Oh, if I had my three friends here,\" cried he, \"I should have, at\nleast, some hopes of finding her; but who knows what has become of\nthem?\" It was past midnight; the next thing was to find Planchet. D'Artagnan\nwent successively into all the cabarets in which there was a light, but\ncould not find Planchet in any of them. At the sixth he began to reflect that the search was rather dubious. D'Artagnan had appointed six o'clock in the morning for his lackey, and\nwherever he might be, he was right. Besides, it came into the young man's mind that by remaining in the\nenvirons of the spot on which this sad event had passed, he would,\nperhaps, have some light thrown upon the mysterious affair.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-10, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-11 The user is reading a book]\n<User> At the sixth\ncabaret, then, as we said, d'Artagnan stopped, asked for a bottle of\nwine of the best quality, and placing himself in the darkest corner of\nthe room, determined thus to wait till daylight; but this time again his\nhopes were disappointed, and although he listened with all his ears, he\nheard nothing, amid the oaths, coarse jokes, and abuse which passed\nbetween the laborers, servants, and carters who comprised the honorable\nsociety of which he formed a part, which could put him upon the least\ntrack of her who had been stolen from him. He was compelled, then, after\nhaving swallowed the contents of his bottle, to pass the time as well as\nto evade suspicion, to fall into the easiest position in his corner and\nto sleep, whether well or ill. D'Artagnan, be it remembered, was only\ntwenty years old, and at that age sleep has its imprescriptible rights\nwhich it imperiously insists upon, even with the saddest hearts. Toward six o'clock d'Artagnan awoke with that uncomfortable feeling\nwhich generally accompanies the break of day after a bad night. He was\nnot long in making his toilet. He examined himself to see if advantage\nhad been taken of his sleep, and having found his diamond ring on his\nfinger, his purse in his pocket, and his pistols in his belt, he rose,\npaid for his bottle, and went out to try if he could have any better\nluck in his search after his lackey than he had had the night before. The first thing he perceived through the damp gray mist was honest\nPlanchet, who, with the two horses in hand, awaited him at the door of a\nlittle blind cabaret, before which d'Artagnan had passed without even a\nsuspicion of its existence.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-11, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-11", "answer": "d'Artagnan, Planchet, Constance Bonacieux, Monsieur Bonacieux, Monsieur de Treville, Queen's diamond ring, cardinal's wrath, England adventures, Paris, bungalow, inn, violent struggle, old man, ladder, distinguished gentleman, key, carriage, woman screamed, man from Meung, horses, rendezvous, disappearance, abduction, waiting at bungalow, escape blocked, advice to leave Paris, relationship suspicion, next morning decision"}]