["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> 2 THE ANTECHAMBER OF M. DE TREVILLE\n\n\nM de Troisville, as his family was still called in Gascony, or M. de\nTreville, as he has ended by styling himself in Paris, had really\ncommenced life as d'Artagnan now did; that is to say, without a sou in\nhis pocket, but with a fund of audacity, shrewdness, and intelligence\nwhich makes the poorest Gascon gentleman often derive more in his hope\nfrom the paternal inheritance than the richest Perigordian or Berrichan\ngentleman derives in reality from his. His insolent bravery, his still\nmore insolent success at a time when blows poured down like hail, had\nborne him to the top of that difficult ladder called Court Favor, which\nhe had climbed four steps at a time. He was the friend of the king, who honored highly, as everyone knows,\nthe memory of his father, Henry IV. The father of M. de Treville had\nserved him so faithfully in his wars against the league that in default\nof money--a thing to which the Bearnais was accustomed all his life, and\nwho constantly paid his debts with that of which he never stood in need\nof borrowing, that is to say, with ready wit--in default of money, we\nrepeat, he authorized him, after the reduction of Paris, to assume for\nhis arms a golden lion passant upon gules, with the motto FIDELIS ET\nFORTIS. This was a great matter in the way of honor, but very little in\nthe way of wealth; so that when the illustrious companion of the great\nHenry died, the only inheritance he was able to leave his son was his\nsword and his motto. Thanks to this double gift and the spotless name\nthat accompanied it, M. de Treville was admitted into the household of\nthe young prince where he made such good use of his sword, and was so\nfaithful to his motto, that Louis XIII, one of the good blades of his\nkingdom, was accustomed to say that if he had a friend who was about to\nfight, he would advise him to choose as a second, himself first, and\nTreville next--or even, perhaps, before himself. Thus Louis XIII had a real liking for Treville--a royal liking, a\nself-interested liking, it is true, but still a liking. At that unhappy\nperiod it was an important consideration to be surrounded by such men as\nTreville. Many might take for their device the epithet STRONG, which\nformed the second part of his motto, but very few gentlemen could lay\nclaim to the FAITHFUL, which constituted the first. Treville was one of\nthese latter. His was one of those rare organizations, endowed with an\nobedient intelligence like that of the dog; with a blind valor, a quick\neye, and a prompt hand; to whom sight appeared only to be given to see\nif the king were dissatisfied with anyone, and the hand to strike this\ndispleasing personage, whether a Besme, a Maurevers, a Poltiot de Mere,\nor a Vitry. In short, up to this period nothing had been wanting to\nTreville but opportunity; but he was ever on the watch for it, and he\nfaithfully promised himself that he would not fail to seize it by its\nthree hairs whenever it came within reach of his hand. At last Louis\nXIII made Treville the captain of his Musketeers, who were to Louis XIII\nin devotedness, or rather in fanaticism, what his Ordinaries had been to\nHenry III, and his Scotch Guard to Louis XI. On his part, the cardinal was not behind the king in this respect. When\nhe saw the formidable and chosen body with which Louis XIII had\nsurrounded himself, this second, or rather this first king of France,\nbecame desirous that he, too, should have his guard. He had his\nMusketeers therefore, as Louis XIII had his, and these two powerful\nrivals vied with each other in procuring, not only from all the\nprovinces of France, but even from all foreign states, the most\ncelebrated swordsmen. It was not uncommon for Richelieu and Louis XIII\nto dispute over their evening game of chess upon the merits of their\nservants. Each boasted the bearing and the courage of his own people. While exclaiming loudly against duels and brawls, they excited them\nsecretly to quarrel, deriving an immoderate satisfaction or genuine\nregret from the success or defeat of their own combatants. We learn this\nfrom the memoirs of a man who was concerned in some few of these defeats\nand in many of these victories. Treville had grasped the weak side of his master; and it was to this\naddress that he owed the long and constant favor of a king who has not\nleft the reputation behind him of being very faithful in his\nfriendships. He paraded his Musketeers before the Cardinal Armand\nDuplessis with an insolent air which made the gray moustache of his\nEminence curl with ire. Treville understood admirably the war method of\nthat period, in which he who could not live at the expense of the enemy\nmust live at the expense of his compatriots. His soldiers formed a\nlegion of devil-may-care fellows, perfectly undisciplined toward all but\nhimself. Loose, half-drunk, imposing, the king's Musketeers, or rather M. de\nTreville's, spread themselves about in the cabarets, in the public\nwalks, and the public sports, shouting, twisting their mustaches,\nclanking their swords, and taking great pleasure in annoying the Guards\nof the cardinal whenever they could fall in with them; then drawing in\nthe open streets, as if it were the best of all possible sports;\nsometimes killed, but sure in that case to be both wept and avenged;\noften killing others, but then certain of not rotting in prison, M. de\nTreville being there to claim them. Thus M. de Treville was praised to\nthe highest note by these men, who adored him, and who, ruffians as they\nwere, trembled before him like scholars before their master, obedient to\nhis least word, and ready to sacrifice themselves to wash out the\nsmallest insult. M de Treville employed this powerful weapon for the king, in the first\nplace, and the friends of the king--and then for himself and his own\nfriends. For the rest, in the memoirs of this period, which has left so\nmany memoirs, one does not find this worthy gentleman blamed even by his\nenemies; and he had many such among men of the pen as well as among men\nof the sword. In no instance, let us say, was this worthy gentleman\naccused of deriving personal advantage from the cooperation of his\nminions. Endowed with a rare genius for intrigue which rendered him the\nequal of the ablest intriguers, he remained an honest man. Still\nfurther, in spite of sword thrusts which weaken, and painful exercises\nwhich fatigue, he had become one of the most gallant frequenters of\nrevels, one of the most insinuating lady's men, one of the softest\nwhisperers of interesting nothings of his day; the BONNES FORTUNES of de\nTreville were talked of as those of M. de Bassompierre had been talked\nof twenty years before, and that was not saying a little. The captain of\nthe Musketeers was therefore admired, feared, and loved; and this\nconstitutes the zenith of human fortune. Louis XIV absorbed all the smaller stars of his court in his own vast\nradiance; but his father, a sun PLURIBUS IMPAR, left his personal\nsplendor to each of his favorites, his individual value to each of his\ncourtiers. In addition to the leeves of the king and the cardinal, there\nmight be reckoned in Paris at that time more than two hundred smaller\nbut still noteworthy leeves. Among these two hundred leeves, that of\nTreville was one of the most sought. The court of his hotel, situated in the Rue du Vieux-Colombier,\nresembled a camp from by six o'clock in the morning in summer and eight\no'clock in winter. From fifty to sixty Musketeers, who appeared to\nreplace one another in order always to present an imposing number,\nparaded constantly, armed to the teeth and ready for anything. On one of\nthose immense staircases, upon whose space modern civilization would\nbuild a whole house, ascended and descended the office seekers of Paris,\nwho ran after any sort of favor--gentlemen from the provinces anxious to\nbe enrolled, and servants in all sorts of liveries, bringing and\ncarrying messages between their masters and M. de Treville. In the\nantechamber, upon long circular benches, reposed the elect; that is to\nsay, those who were called.\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 2024-01-02 The user is reading a book]\n<User> In this apartment a continued buzzing\nprevailed from morning till night, while M. de Treville, in his office\ncontiguous to this antechamber, received visits, listened to complaints,\ngave his orders, and like the king in his balcony at the Louvre, had\nonly to place himself at the window to review both his men and arms. The day on which d'Artagnan presented himself the assemblage was\nimposing, particularly for a provincial just arriving from his province. It is true that this provincial was a Gascon; and that, particularly at\nthis period, the compatriots of d'Artagnan had the reputation of not\nbeing easily intimidated. When he had once passed the massive door\ncovered with long square-headed nails, he fell into the midst of a troop\nof swordsmen, who crossed one another in their passage, calling out,\nquarreling, and playing tricks one with another. In order to make one's\nway amid these turbulent and conflicting waves, it was necessary to be\nan officer, a great noble, or a pretty woman. It was, then, into the midst of this tumult and disorder that our young\nman advanced with a beating heart, ranging his long rapier up his lanky\nleg, and keeping one hand on the edge of his cap, with that half-smile\nof the embarrassed provincial who wishes to put on a good face. When he\nhad passed one group he began to breathe more freely; but he could not\nhelp observing that they turned round to look at him, and for the first\ntime in his life d'Artagnan, who had till that day entertained a very\ngood opinion of himself, felt ridiculous. Arrived at the staircase, it was still worse. There were four Musketeers\non the bottom steps, amusing themselves with the following exercise,\nwhile ten or twelve of their comrades waited upon the landing place to\ntake their turn in the sport. One of them, stationed upon the top stair, naked sword in hand,\nprevented, or at least endeavored to prevent, the three others from\nascending. These three others fenced against him with their agile swords. D'Artagnan at first took these weapons for foils, and believed them to\nbe buttoned; but he soon perceived by certain scratches that every\nweapon was pointed and sharpened, and that at each of these scratches\nnot only the spectators, but even the actors themselves, laughed like so\nmany madmen. He who at the moment occupied the upper step kept his adversaries\nmarvelously in check. A circle was formed around them. The conditions\nrequired that at every hit the man touched should quit the game,\nyielding his turn for the benefit of the adversary who had hit him. In\nfive minutes three were slightly wounded, one on the hand, another on\nthe ear, by the defender of the stair, who himself remained intact--a\npiece of skill which was worth to him, according to the rules agreed\nupon, three turns of favor. However difficult it might be, or rather as he pretended it was, to\nastonish our young traveler, this pastime really astonished him. He had\nseen in his province--that land in which heads become so easily\nheated--a few of the preliminaries of duels; but the daring of these\nfour fencers appeared to him the strongest he had ever heard of even in\nGascony. He believed himself transported into that famous country of\ngiants into which Gulliver afterward went and was so frightened; and yet\nhe had not gained the goal, for there were still the landing place and\nthe antechamber. On the landing they were no longer fighting, but amused themselves with\nstories about women, and in the antechamber, with stories about the\ncourt. On the landing d'Artagnan blushed; in the antechamber he\ntrembled. His warm and fickle imagination, which in Gascony had rendered\nhim formidable to young chambermaids, and even sometimes their\nmistresses, had never dreamed, even in moments of delirium, of half the\namorous wonders or a quarter of the feats of gallantry which were here\nset forth in connection with names the best known and with details the\nleast concealed. But if his morals were shocked on the landing, his\nrespect for the cardinal was scandalized in the antechamber. There, to\nhis great astonishment, d'Artagnan heard the policy which made all\nEurope tremble criticized aloud and openly, as well as the private life\nof the cardinal, which so many great nobles had been punished for trying\nto pry into. That great man who was so revered by d'Artagnan the elder\nserved as an object of ridicule to the Musketeers of Treville, who\ncracked their jokes upon his bandy legs and his crooked back. Some sang\nballads about Mme. d'Aguillon, his mistress, and Mme. Cambalet, his\nniece; while others formed parties and plans to annoy the pages and\nguards of the cardinal duke--all things which appeared to d'Artagnan\nmonstrous impossibilities. Nevertheless, when the name of the king was now and then uttered\nunthinkingly amid all these cardinal jests, a sort of gag seemed to\nclose for a moment on all these jeering mouths. They looked hesitatingly\naround them, and appeared to doubt the thickness of the partition\nbetween them and the office of M. de Treville; but a fresh allusion soon\nbrought back the conversation to his Eminence, and then the laughter\nrecovered its loudness and the light was not withheld from any of his\nactions. \"Certes, these fellows will all either be imprisoned or hanged,\" thought\nthe terrified d'Artagnan, \"and I, no doubt, with them; for from the\nmoment I have either listened to or heard them, I shall be held as an\naccomplice. What would my good father say, who so strongly pointed out\nto me the respect due to the cardinal, if he knew I was in the society\nof such pagans?\" We have no need, therefore, to say that d'Artagnan dared not join in the\nconversation, only he looked with all his eyes and listened with all his\nears, stretching his five senses so as to lose nothing; and despite his\nconfidence on the paternal admonitions, he felt himself carried by his\ntastes and led by his instincts to praise rather than to blame the\nunheard-of things which were taking place. Although he was a perfect stranger in the court of M. de Treville's\ncourtiers, and this his first appearance in that place, he was at length\nnoticed, and somebody came and asked him what he wanted. At this demand\nd'Artagnan gave his name very modestly, emphasized the title of\ncompatriot, and begged the servant who had put the question to him to\nrequest a moment's audience of M. de Treville--a request which the\nother, with an air of protection, promised to transmit in due season. D'Artagnan, a little recovered from his first surprise, had now leisure\nto study costumes and physiognomy. The center of the most animated group was a Musketeer of great height\nand haughty countenance, dressed in a costume so peculiar as to attract\ngeneral attention. He did not wear the uniform cloak--which was not\nobligatory at that epoch of less liberty but more independence--but a\ncerulean-blue doublet, a little faded and worn, and over this a\nmagnificent baldric, worked in gold, which shone like water ripples in\nthe sun. A long cloak of crimson velvet fell in graceful folds from his\nshoulders, disclosing in front the splendid baldric, from which was\nsuspended a gigantic rapier. This Musketeer had just come off guard,\ncomplained 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\non his cloak; and while he spoke with a lofty air and twisted his\nmustache disdainfully, all admired his embroidered baldric, and\nd'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\nlay out one's inheritance somehow.\" \"Ah, Porthos!\" cried one of his companions, \"don't try to make us\nbelieve you obtained that baldric by paternal generosity. It was given\nto you by that veiled lady I met you with the other Sunday, near the\ngate St. Honor.\" \"No, upon honor and by the faith of a gentleman, I bought it with the\ncontents of my own purse,\" answered he whom they designated by the name\nPorthos. \"Yes; about in the same manner,\" said another Musketeer, \"that I bought\nthis new purse with what my mistress put into the old one.\" \"It's true, though,\" said Porthos; \"and the proof is that I paid twelve\npistoles for it.\" The wonder was increased, though the doubt continued to exist. \"Is it not true, Aramis?\" said Porthos, turning toward another\nMusketeer.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-02, 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> This other Musketeer formed a perfect contrast to his interrogator, who\nhad just designated him by the name of Aramis. He was a stout man, of\nabout two- or three-and-twenty, with an open, ingenuous countenance, a\nblack, mild eye, and cheeks rosy and downy as an autumn peach. His\ndelicate mustache marked a perfectly straight line upon his upper lip;\nhe appeared to dread to lower his hands lest their veins should swell,\nand he pinched the tips of his ears from time to time to preserve their\ndelicate pink transparency. Habitually he spoke little and slowly, bowed\nfrequently, laughed without noise, showing his teeth, which were fine\nand of which, as the rest of his person, he appeared to take great care. He answered the appeal of his friend by an affirmative nod of the head. This affirmation appeared to dispel all doubts with regard to the\nbaldric. They continued to admire it, but said no more about it; and\nwith a rapid change of thought, the conversation passed suddenly to\nanother subject. \"What do you think of the story Chalais's esquire relates?\" asked\nanother Musketeer, without addressing anyone in particular, but on the\ncontrary speaking to everybody. \"And what does he say?\" asked Porthos, in a self-sufficient tone. \"He relates that he met at Brussels Rochefort, the AME DAMNEE of the\ncardinal disguised as a Capuchin, and that this cursed Rochefort, thanks\nto his disguise, had tricked Monsieur de Laigues, like a ninny as he\nis.\" \"A ninny, indeed!\" said Porthos; \"but is the matter certain?\" \"I had it from Aramis,\" replied the Musketeer. \"Indeed?\" \"Why, you knew it, Porthos,\" said Aramis. \"I told you of it yesterday. Let us say no more about it.\" \"Say no more about it? That's YOUR opinion!\" replied Porthos. \"Say no more about it! PESTE! You come to your conclusions quickly. What! The cardinal sets a spy upon a gentleman, has his letters stolen\nfrom him by means of a traitor, a brigand, a rascal--has, with the help\nof this spy and thanks to this correspondence, Chalais's throat cut,\nunder the stupid pretext that he wanted to kill the king and marry\nMonsieur to the queen! Nobody knew a word of this enigma. You unraveled\nit yesterday to the great satisfaction of all; and while we are still\ngaping with wonder at the news, you come and tell us today, 'Let us say\nno more about it.'\" \"Well, then, let us talk about it, since you desire it,\" replied Aramis,\npatiently. \"This Rochefort,\" cried Porthos, \"if I were the esquire of poor Chalais,\nshould pass a minute or two very uncomfortably with me.\" \"And you--you would pass rather a sad quarter-hour with the Red Duke,\"\nreplied Aramis. \"Oh, the Red Duke! Bravo! Bravo! The Red Duke!\" cried Porthos, clapping\nhis hands and nodding his head. \"The Red Duke is capital. I'll circulate\nthat saying, be assured, my dear fellow. Who says this Aramis is not a\nwit? What a misfortune it is you did not follow your first vocation;\nwhat a delicious abbe you would have made!\" \"Oh, it's only a temporary postponement,\" replied Aramis; \"I shall be\none someday. You very well know, Porthos, that I continue to study\ntheology for that purpose.\" \"He will be one, as he says,\" cried Porthos; \"he will be one, sooner or\nlater.\" \"Sooner,\" said Aramis. \"He only waits for one thing to determine him to resume his cassock,\nwhich hangs behind his uniform,\" said another Musketeer. \"What is he waiting for?\" asked another. \"Only till the queen has given an heir to the crown of France.\" \"No jesting upon that subject, gentlemen,\" said Porthos; \"thank God the\nqueen is still of an age to give one!\" \"They say that Monsieur de Buckingham is in France,\" replied Aramis,\nwith a significant smile which gave to this sentence, apparently so\nsimple, a tolerably scandalous meaning. \"Aramis, my good friend, this time you are wrong,\" interrupted Porthos. \"Your wit is always leading you beyond bounds; if Monsieur de Treville\nheard you, you would repent of speaking thus.\" \"Are you going to give me a lesson, Porthos?\" cried Aramis, from whose\nusually mild eye a flash passed like lightning. \"My dear fellow, be a Musketeer or an abbe. Be one or the other, but not\nboth,\" replied Porthos. \"You know what Athos told you the other day; you\neat at everybody's mess. Ah, don't be angry, I beg of you, that would be\nuseless; you know what is agreed upon between you, Athos and me. You go\nto Madame d'Aguillon's, and you pay your court to her; you go to Madame\nde Bois-Tracy's, the cousin of Madame de Chevreuse, and you pass for\nbeing far advanced in the good graces of that lady. Oh, good Lord! Don't\ntrouble yourself to reveal your good luck; no one asks for your\nsecret-all the world knows your discretion. But since you possess that\nvirtue, why the devil don't you make use of it with respect to her\nMajesty? Let whoever likes talk of the king and the cardinal, and how he\nlikes; but the queen is sacred, and if anyone speaks of her, let it be\nrespectfully.\" \"Porthos, you are as vain as Narcissus; I plainly tell you so,\" replied\nAramis. \"You know I hate moralizing, except when it is done by Athos. As\nto you, good sir, you wear too magnificent a baldric to be strong on\nthat head. I will be an abbe if it suits me. In the meanwhile I am a\nMusketeer; in that quality I say what I please, and at this moment it\npleases me to say that you weary me.\" \"Aramis!\" \"Porthos!\" \"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!\" cried the surrounding group. \"Monsieur de Treville awaits Monsieur d'Artagnan,\" cried a servant,\nthrowing open the door of the cabinet. At this announcement, during which the door remained open, everyone\nbecame mute, and amid the general silence the young man crossed part of\nthe length of the antechamber, and entered the apartment of the captain\nof the Musketeers, congratulating himself with all his heart at having\nso narrowly escaped the end of this strange quarrel. 3 THE AUDIENCE\n\n\nM de Treville was at the moment in rather ill-humor, nevertheless he\nsaluted the young man politely, who bowed to the very ground; and he\nsmiled on receiving d'Artagnan's response, the Bearnese accent of which\nrecalled to him at the same time his youth and his country--a double\nremembrance which makes a man smile at all ages; but stepping toward the\nantechamber and making a sign to d'Artagnan with his hand, as if to ask\nhis permission to finish with others before he began with him, he called\nthree times, with a louder voice at each time, so that he ran through\nthe intervening tones between the imperative accent and the angry\naccent. \"Athos! Porthos! Aramis!\" The two Musketeers with whom we have already made acquaintance, and who\nanswered to the last of these three names, immediately quitted the group\nof which they had formed a part, and advanced toward the cabinet, the\ndoor of which closed after them as soon as they had entered. Their\nappearance, although it was not quite at ease, excited by its\ncarelessness, at once full of dignity and submission, the admiration of\nd'Artagnan, who beheld in these two men demigods, and in their leader an\nOlympian Jupiter, armed with all his thunders. When the two Musketeers had entered; when the door was closed behind\nthem; when the buzzing murmur of the antechamber, to which the summons\nwhich had been made had doubtless furnished fresh food, had recommenced;\nwhen M. de Treville had three or four times paced in silence, and with a\nfrowning brow, the whole length of his cabinet, passing each time before\nPorthos and Aramis, who were as upright and silent as if on parade--he\nstopped all at once full in front of them, and covering them from head\nto foot with an angry look, \"Do you know what the king said to me,\"\ncried he, \"and that no longer ago than yesterday evening--do you know,\ngentlemen?\" \"No,\" replied the two Musketeers, after a moment's silence, \"no, sir, we\ndo not.\"\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> \"But I hope that you will do us the honor to tell us,\" added Aramis, in\nhis politest tone and with his most graceful bow. \"He told me that he should henceforth recruit his Musketeers from among\nthe Guards of Monsieur the Cardinal.\" \"The Guards of the cardinal! And why so?\" asked Porthos, warmly. \"Because he plainly perceives that his piquette* stands in need of being\nenlivened by a mixture of good wine.\" _*A watered liquor, made from the second pressing of the grape._\n\nThe two Musketeers reddened to the whites of their eyes. D'Artagnan did\nnot know where he was, and wished himself a hundred feet underground. \"Yes, yes,\" continued M. de Treville, growing warmer as he spoke, \"and\nhis majesty was right; for, upon my honor, it is true that the\nMusketeers make but a miserable figure at court. The cardinal related\nyesterday while playing with the king, with an air of condolence very\ndispleasing to me, that the day before yesterday those DAMNED\nMUSKETEERS, those DAREDEVILS--he dwelt upon those words with an ironical\ntone still more displeasing to me--those BRAGGARTS, added he, glancing\nat me with his tiger-cat's eye, had made a riot in the Rue Ferou in a\ncabaret, and that a party of his Guards (I thought he was going to laugh\nin my face) had been forced to arrest the rioters! MORBLEU! You must\nknow something about it. Arrest Musketeers! You were among them--you\nwere! Don't deny it; you were recognized, and the cardinal named you. But it's all my fault; yes, it's all my fault, because it is myself who\nselects my men. You, Aramis, why the devil did you ask me for a uniform\nwhen you would have been so much better in a cassock? And you, Porthos,\ndo you only wear such a fine golden baldric to suspend a sword of straw\nfrom it? And Athos--I don't see Athos. Where is he?\" \"Ill--\"\n\n\"Very ill, say you? And of what malady?\" \"It is feared that it may be the smallpox, sir,\" replied Porthos,\ndesirous of taking his turn in the conversation; \"and what is serious is\nthat it will certainly spoil his face.\" \"The smallpox! That's a great story to tell me, Porthos! Sick of the\nsmallpox at his age! No, no; but wounded without doubt, killed, perhaps. Ah, if I knew! S'blood! Messieurs Musketeers, I will not have this\nhaunting of bad places, this quarreling in the streets, this swordplay\nat the crossways; and above all, I will not have occasion given for the\ncardinal's Guards, who are brave, quiet, skillful men who never put\nthemselves in a position to be arrested, and who, besides, never allow\nthemselves to be arrested, to laugh at you! I am sure of it--they would\nprefer dying on the spot to being arrested or taking back a step. To\nsave yourselves, to scamper away, to flee--that is good for the king's\nMusketeers!\" Porthos and Aramis trembled with rage. They could willingly have\nstrangled M. de Treville, if, at the bottom of all this, they had not\nfelt it was the great love he bore them which made him speak thus. They\nstamped upon the carpet with their feet; they bit their lips till the\nblood came, and grasped the hilts of their swords with all their might. All without had heard, as we have said, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis\ncalled, and had guessed, from M. de Treville's tone of voice, that he\nwas very angry about something. Ten curious heads were glued to the\ntapestry and became pale with fury; for their ears, closely applied to\nthe door, did not lose a syllable of what he said, while their mouths\nrepeated as he went on, the insulting expressions of the captain to all\nthe people in the antechamber. In an instant, from the door of the\ncabinet to the street gate, the whole hotel was boiling. \"Ah! The king's Musketeers are arrested by the Guards of the cardinal,\nare they?\" continued M. de Treville, as furious at heart as his\nsoldiers, but emphasizing his words and plunging them, one by one, so to\nsay, like so many blows of a stiletto, into the bosoms of his auditors. \"What! Six of his Eminence's Guards arrest six of his Majesty's\nMusketeers! MORBLEU! My part is taken! I will go straight to the louvre;\nI will give in my resignation as captain of the king's Musketeers to\ntake a lieutenancy in the cardinal's Guards, and if he refuses me,\nMORBLEU! I will turn abbe.\" At these words, the murmur without became an explosion; nothing was to\nbe heard but oaths and blasphemies. The MORBLEUS, the SANG DIEUS, the\nMORTS TOUTS LES DIABLES, crossed one another in the air. D'Artagnan\nlooked for some tapestry behind which he might hide himself, and felt an\nimmense inclination to crawl under the table. \"Well, my Captain,\" said Porthos, quite beside himself, \"the truth is\nthat we were six against six. But we were not captured by fair means;\nand before we had time to draw our swords, two of our party were dead,\nand Athos, grievously wounded, was very little better. For you know\nAthos. Well, Captain, he endeavored twice to get up, and fell again\ntwice. And we did not surrender--no! They dragged us away by force. On\nthe way we escaped. As for Athos, they believed him to be dead, and left\nhim very quiet on the field of battle, not thinking it worth the trouble\nto carry him away. That's the whole story. What the devil, Captain, one\ncannot win all one's battles! The great Pompey lost that of Pharsalia;\nand Francis the First, who was, as I have heard say, as good as other\nfolks, nevertheless lost the Battle of Pavia.\" \"And I have the honor of assuring you that I killed one of them with his\nown sword,\" said Aramis; \"for mine was broken at the first parry. Killed\nhim, or poniarded him, sir, as is most agreeable to you.\" \"I did not know that,\" replied M. de Treville, in a somewhat softened\ntone. \"The cardinal exaggerated, as I perceive.\" \"But pray, sir,\" continued Aramis, who, seeing his captain become\nappeased, ventured to risk a prayer, \"do not say that Athos is wounded. He would be in despair if that should come to the ears of the king; and\nas the wound is very serious, seeing that after crossing the shoulder it\npenetrates into the chest, it is to be feared--\"\n\nAt this instant the tapestry was raised and a noble and handsome head,\nbut frightfully pale, appeared under the fringe. \"Athos!\" cried the two Musketeers. \"Athos!\" repeated M. de Treville himself. \"You have sent for me, sir,\" said Athos to M. de Treville, in a feeble\nyet perfectly calm voice, \"you have sent for me, as my comrades inform\nme, and I have hastened to receive your orders. I am here; what do you\nwant with me?\" And at these words, the Musketeer, in irreproachable costume, belted as\nusual, with a tolerably firm step, entered the cabinet. M. de Treville,\nmoved to the bottom of his heart by this proof of courage, sprang toward\nhim. \"I was about to say to these gentlemen,\" added he, \"that I forbid my\nMusketeers to expose their lives needlessly; for brave men are very dear\nto the king, and the king knows that his Musketeers are the bravest on\nthe earth. Your hand, Athos!\" And without waiting for the answer of the newcomer to this proof of\naffection, M. de Treville seized his right hand and pressed it with all\nhis might, without perceiving that Athos, whatever might be his\nself-command, allowed a slight murmur of pain to escape him, and if\npossible, grew paler than he was before. The door had remained open, so strong was the excitement produced by the\narrival of Athos, whose wound, though kept as a secret, was known to\nall. A burst of satisfaction hailed the last words of the captain; and\ntwo or three heads, carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment,\nappeared through the openings of the tapestry.\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 2024-01-07 The user is reading a book]\n<User> M. de Treville was about\nto reprehend this breach of the rules of etiquette, when he felt the\nhand of Athos, who had rallied all his energies to contend against pain,\nat length overcome by it, fell upon the floor as if he were dead. \"A surgeon!\" cried M. de Treville, \"mine! The king's! The best! A\nsurgeon! Or, s'blood, my brave Athos will die!\" At the cries of M. de Treville, the whole assemblage rushed into the\ncabinet, he not thinking to shut the door against anyone, and all\ncrowded round the wounded man. But all this eager attention might have\nbeen useless if the doctor so loudly called for had not chanced to be in\nthe hotel. He pushed through the crowd, approached Athos, still\ninsensible, and as all this noise and commotion inconvenienced him\ngreatly, he required, as the first and most urgent thing, that the\nMusketeer should be carried into an adjoining chamber. Immediately M. de\nTreville opened and pointed the way to Porthos and Aramis, who bore\ntheir comrade in their arms. Behind this group walked the surgeon; and\nbehind the surgeon the door closed. The cabinet of M. de Treville, generally held so sacred, became in an\ninstant the annex of the antechamber. Everyone spoke, harangued, and\nvociferated, swearing, cursing, and consigning the cardinal and his\nGuards to all the devils. An instant after, Porthos and Aramis re-entered, the surgeon and M. de\nTreville alone remaining with the wounded. At length, M. de Treville himself returned. The injured man had\nrecovered his senses. The surgeon declared that the situation of the\nMusketeer had nothing in it to render his friends uneasy, his weakness\nhaving been purely and simply caused by loss of blood. Then M. de Treville made a sign with his hand, and all retired except\nd'Artagnan, who did not forget that he had an audience, and with the\ntenacity of a Gascon remained in his place. When all had gone out and the door was closed, M. de Treville, on\nturning round, found himself alone with the young man. The event which\nhad occurred had in some degree broken the thread of his ideas. He\ninquired what was the will of his persevering visitor. D'Artagnan then\nrepeated his name, and in an instant recovering all his remembrances of\nthe present and the past, M. de Treville grasped the situation. \"Pardon me,\" said he, smiling, \"pardon me my dear compatriot, but I had\nwholly forgotten you. But what help is there for it! A captain is\nnothing but a father of a family, charged with even a greater\nresponsibility than the father of an ordinary family. Soldiers are big\nchildren; but as I maintain that the orders of the king, and more\nparticularly the orders of the cardinal, should be executed--\"\n\nD'Artagnan could not restrain a smile. By this smile M. de Treville\njudged that he had not to deal with a fool, and changing the\nconversation, came straight to the point. \"I respected your father very much,\" said he. \"What can I do for the\nson? Tell me quickly; my time is not my own.\" \"Monsieur,\" said d'Artagnan, \"on quitting Tarbes and coming hither, it\nwas my intention to request of you, in remembrance of the friendship\nwhich you have not forgotten, the uniform of a Musketeer; but after all\nthat I have seen during the last two hours, I comprehend that such a\nfavor is enormous, and tremble lest I should not merit it.\" \"It is indeed a favor, young man,\" replied M. de Treville, \"but it may\nnot be so far beyond your hopes as you believe, or rather as you appear\nto believe. But his majesty's decision is always necessary; and I inform\nyou with regret that no one becomes a Musketeer without the preliminary\nordeal of several campaigns, certain brilliant actions, or a service of\ntwo years in some other regiment less favored than ours.\" D'Artagnan bowed without replying, feeling his desire to don the\nMusketeer's uniform vastly increased by the great difficulties which\npreceded the attainment of it. \"But,\" continued M. de Treville, fixing upon his compatriot a look so\npiercing that it might be said he wished to read the thoughts of his\nheart, \"on account of my old companion, your father, as I have said, I\nwill do something for you, young man. Our recruits from Bearn are not\ngenerally very rich, and I have no reason to think matters have much\nchanged in this respect since I left the province. I dare say you have\nnot brought too large a stock of money with you?\" D'Artagnan drew himself up with a proud air which plainly said, \"I ask\nalms of no man.\" \"Oh, that's very well, young man,\" continued M. de Treville, \"that's all\nvery well. I know these airs; I myself came to Paris with four crowns in\nmy purse, and would have fought with anyone who dared to tell me I was\nnot in a condition to purchase the Louvre.\" D'Artagnan's bearing became still more imposing. Thanks to the sale of\nhis horse, he commenced his career with four more crowns than M. de\nTreville possessed at the commencement of his. \"You ought, I say, then, to husband the means you have, however large\nthe sum may be; but you ought also to endeavor to perfect yourself in\nthe exercises becoming a gentleman. I will write a letter today to the\nDirector of the Royal Academy, and tomorrow he will admit you without\nany expense to yourself. Do not refuse this little service. Our\nbest-born and richest gentlemen sometimes solicit it without being able\nto obtain it. You will learn horsemanship, swordsmanship in all its\nbranches, and dancing. You will make some desirable acquaintances; and\nfrom time to time you can call upon me, just to tell me how you are\ngetting on, and to say whether I can be of further service to you.\" D'Artagnan, stranger as he was to all the manners of a court, could not\nbut perceive a little coldness in this reception. \"Alas, sir,\" said he, \"I cannot but perceive how sadly I miss the letter\nof introduction which my father gave me to present to you.\" \"I certainly am surprised,\" replied M. de Treville, \"that you should\nundertake so long a journey without that necessary passport, the sole\nresource of us poor Bearnese.\" \"I had one, sir, and, thank God, such as I could wish,\" cried\nd'Artagnan; \"but it was perfidiously stolen from me.\" He then related the adventure of Meung, described the unknown gentleman\nwith the greatest minuteness, and all with a warmth and truthfulness\nthat delighted M. de Treville. \"This is all very strange,\" said M. de Treville, after meditating a\nminute; \"you mentioned my name, then, aloud?\" \"Yes, sir, I certainly committed that imprudence; but why should I have\ndone otherwise? A name like yours must be as a buckler to me on my way. Judge if I should not put myself under its protection.\" Flattery was at that period very current, and M. de Treville loved\nincense as well as a king, or even a cardinal. He could not refrain from\na smile of visible satisfaction; but this smile soon disappeared, and\nreturning to the adventure of Meung, \"Tell me,\" continued he, \"had not\nthis gentlemen a slight scar on his cheek?\" \"Yes, such a one as would be made by the grazing of a ball.\" \"Was he not a fine-looking man?\" \"Yes.\" \"Of lofty stature.\" \"Yes.\" \"Of pale complexion and brown hair?\" \"Yes, yes, that is he; how is it, sir, that you are acquainted with this\nman? If I ever find him again--and I will find him, I swear, were it in\nhell!\" \"He was waiting for a woman,\" continued Treville. \"He departed immediately after having conversed for a minute with her\nwhom he awaited.\" \"You know not the subject of their conversation?\" \"He gave her a box, told her not to open it except in London.\" \"Was this woman English?\" \"He called her Milady.\" \"It is he; it must be he!\" murmured Treville. \"I believed him still at\nBrussels.\" \"Oh, sir, if you know who this man is,\" cried d'Artagnan, \"tell me who\nhe is, and whence he is. I will then release you from all your\npromises--even that of procuring my admission into the Musketeers; for\nbefore everything, I wish to avenge myself.\" \"Beware, young man!\" cried Treville. \"If you see him coming on one side\nof the street, pass by on the other.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-07, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-09 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Do not cast yourself against such a\nrock; he would break you like glass.\" \"That will not prevent me,\" replied d'Artagnan, \"if ever I find him.\" \"In the meantime,\" said Treville, \"seek him not--if I have a right to\nadvise you.\" All at once the captain stopped, as if struck by a sudden suspicion. This great hatred which the young traveler manifested so loudly for this\nman, who--a rather improbable thing--had stolen his father's letter from\nhim--was there not some perfidy concealed under this hatred? Might not\nthis young man be sent by his Eminence? Might he not have come for the\npurpose of laying a snare for him? This pretended d'Artagnan--was he not\nan emissary of the cardinal, whom the cardinal sought to introduce into\nTreville's house, to place near him, to win his confidence, and\nafterward to ruin him as had been done in a thousand other instances? He\nfixed his eyes upon d'Artagnan even more earnestly than before. He was\nmoderately reassured, however, by the aspect of that countenance, full\nof astute intelligence and affected humility. \"I know he is a Gascon,\"\nreflected he, \"but he may be one for the cardinal as well as for me. Let\nus try him.\" \"My friend,\" said he, slowly, \"I wish, as the son of an ancient\nfriend--for I consider this story of the lost letter perfectly true--I\nwish, I say, in order to repair the coldness you may have remarked in my\nreception of you, to discover to you the secrets of our policy. The king\nand the cardinal are the best of friends; their apparent bickerings are\nonly feints to deceive fools. I am not willing that a compatriot, a\nhandsome cavalier, a brave youth, quite fit to make his way, should\nbecome the dupe of all these artifices and fall into the snare after the\nexample of so many others who have been ruined by it. Be assured that I\nam devoted to both these all-powerful masters, and that my earnest\nendeavors have no other aim than the service of the king, and also the\ncardinal--one of the most illustrious geniuses that France has ever\nproduced. \"Now, young man, regulate your conduct accordingly; and if you\nentertain, whether from your family, your relations, or even from your\ninstincts, any of these enmities which we see constantly breaking out\nagainst the cardinal, bid me adieu and let us separate. I will aid you\nin many ways, but without attaching you to my person. I hope that my\nfrankness at least will make you my friend; for you are the only young\nman to whom I have hitherto spoken as I have done to you.\" Treville said to himself: \"If the cardinal has set this young fox upon\nme, he will certainly not have failed--he, who knows how bitterly I\nexecrate him--to tell his spy that the best means of making his court to\nme is to rail at him. Therefore, in spite of all my protestations, if it\nbe as I suspect, my cunning gossip will assure me that he holds his\nEminence in horror.\" It, however, proved otherwise. D'Artagnan answered, with the greatest\nsimplicity: \"I came to Paris with exactly such intentions. My father\nadvised me to stoop to nobody but the king, the cardinal, and\nyourself--whom he considered the first three personages in France.\" D'Artagnan added M. de Treville to the others, as may be perceived; but\nhe thought this addition would do no harm. \"I have the greatest veneration for the cardinal,\" continued he, \"and\nthe most profound respect for his actions. So much the better for me,\nsir, if you speak to me, as you say, with frankness--for then you will\ndo me the honor to esteem the resemblance of our opinions; but if you\nhave entertained any doubt, as naturally you may, I feel that I am\nruining myself by speaking the truth. But I still trust you will not\nesteem me the less for it, and that is my object beyond all others.\" M de Treville was surprised to the greatest degree. So much penetration,\nso much frankness, created admiration, but did not entirely remove his\nsuspicions. The more this young man was superior to others, the more he\nwas to be dreaded if he meant to deceive him. Nevertheless, he pressed\nd'Artagnan's hand, and said to him: \"You are an honest youth; but at the\npresent moment I can only do for you that which I just now offered. My\nhotel will be always open to you. Hereafter, being able to ask for me at\nall hours, and consequently to take advantage of all opportunities, you\nwill probably obtain that which you desire.\" \"That is to say,\" replied d'Artagnan, \"that you will wait until I have\nproved myself worthy of it. Well, be assured,\" added he, with the\nfamiliarity of a Gascon, \"you shall not wait long.\" And he bowed in\norder to retire, and as if he considered the future in his own hands. \"But wait a minute,\" said M. de Treville, stopping him. \"I promised you\na letter for the director of the Academy. Are you too proud to accept\nit, young gentleman?\" \"No, sir,\" said d'Artagnan; \"and I will guard it so carefully that I\nwill be sworn it shall arrive at its address, and woe be to him who\nshall attempt to take it from me!\" M de Treville smiled at this flourish; and leaving his young man\ncompatriot in the embrasure of the window, where they had talked\ntogether, he seated himself at a table in order to write the promised\nletter of recommendation. While he was doing this, d'Artagnan, having no\nbetter employment, amused himself with beating a march upon the window\nand with looking at the Musketeers, who went away, one after another,\nfollowing them with his eyes until they disappeared. M de Treville, after having written the letter, sealed it, and rising,\napproached the young man in order to give it to him. But at the very\nmoment when d'Artagnan stretched out his hand to receive it, M. de\nTreville was highly astonished to see his protege make a sudden spring,\nbecome crimson with passion, and rush from the cabinet crying, \"S'blood,\nhe shall not escape me this time!\" \"And who?\" asked M. de Treville. \"He, my thief!\" replied d'Artagnan. \"Ah, the traitor!\" and he\ndisappeared. \"The devil take the madman!\" murmured M. de Treville, \"unless,\" added\nhe, \"this is a cunning mode of escaping, seeing that he had failed in\nhis purpose!\" 4 THE SHOULDER OF ATHOS, THE BALDRIC OF PORTHOS AND THE HANDKERCHIEF OF ARAMIS\n\n\nD'Artagnan, in a state of fury, crossed the antechamber at three bounds,\nand was darting toward the stairs, which he reckoned upon descending\nfour at a time, when, in his heedless course, he ran head foremost\nagainst a Musketeer who was coming out of one of M. de Treville's\nprivate rooms, and striking his shoulder violently, made him utter a\ncry, or rather a howl. \"Excuse me,\" said d'Artagnan, endeavoring to resume his course, \"excuse\nme, but I am in a hurry.\" Scarcely had he descended the first stair, when a hand of iron seized\nhim by the belt and stopped him. \"You are in a hurry?\" said the Musketeer, as pale as a sheet. \"Under\nthat pretense you run against me! You say, 'Excuse me,' and you believe\nthat is sufficient? Not at all, my young man. Do you fancy because you\nhave heard Monsieur de Treville speak to us a little cavalierly today\nthat other people are to treat us as he speaks to us? Undeceive\nyourself, comrade, you are not Monsieur de Treville.\" \"My faith!\" replied d'Artagnan, recognizing Athos, who, after the\ndressing performed by the doctor, was returning to his own apartment. \"I\ndid not do it intentionally, and not doing it intentionally, I said\n'Excuse me.' It appears to me that this is quite enough. I repeat to\nyou, however, and this time on my word of honor--I think perhaps too\noften--that I am in haste, great haste. Leave your hold, then, I beg of\nyou, and let me go where my business calls me.\" \"Monsieur,\" said Athos, letting him go, \"you are not polite; it is easy\nto perceive that you come from a distance.\" D'Artagnan had already strode down three or four stairs, but at Athos's\nlast remark he stopped short.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-09, 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> \"MORBLEU, monsieur!\" said he, \"however far I may come, it is not you who\ncan give me a lesson in good manners, I warn you.\" \"Perhaps,\" said Athos. \"Ah! If I were not in such haste, and if I were not running after\nsomeone,\" said d'Artagnan. \"Monsieur Man-in-a-hurry, you can find me without running--ME, you\nunderstand?\" \"And where, I pray you?\" \"Near the Carmes-Deschaux.\" \"At what hour?\" \"About noon.\" \"About noon? That will do; I will be there.\" \"Endeavor not to make me wait; for at quarter past twelve I will cut off\nyour ears as you run.\" \"Good!\" cried d'Artagnan, \"I will be there ten minutes before twelve.\" And he set off running as if the devil possessed him, hoping that he\nmight yet find the stranger, whose slow pace could not have carried him\nfar. But at the street gate, Porthos was talking with the soldier on guard. Between the two talkers there was just enough room for a man to pass. D'Artagnan thought it would suffice for him, and he sprang forward like\na dart between them. But d'Artagnan had reckoned without the wind. As he\nwas about to pass, the wind blew out Porthos's long cloak, and\nd'Artagnan rushed straight into the middle of it. Without doubt, Porthos\nhad reasons for not abandoning this part of his vestments, for instead\nof quitting his hold on the flap in his hand, he pulled it toward him,\nso that d'Artagnan rolled himself up in the velvet by a movement of\nrotation explained by the persistency of Porthos. D'Artagnan, hearing the Musketeer swear, wished to escape from the\ncloak, which blinded him, and sought to find his way from under the\nfolds of it. He was particularly anxious to avoid marring the freshness\nof the magnificent baldric we are acquainted with; but on timidly\nopening his eyes, he found himself with his nose fixed between the two\nshoulders of Porthos--that is to say, exactly upon the baldric. Alas, like most things in this world which have nothing in their favor\nbut appearances, the baldric was glittering with gold in the front, but\nwas nothing but simple buff behind. Vainglorious as he was, Porthos\ncould not afford to have a baldric wholly of gold, but had at least\nhalf. One could comprehend the necessity of the cold and the urgency of\nthe cloak. \"Bless me!\" cried Porthos, making strong efforts to disembarrass himself\nof d'Artagnan, who was wriggling about his back; \"you must be mad to run\nagainst people in this manner.\" \"Excuse me,\" said d'Artagnan, reappearing under the shoulder of the\ngiant, \"but I am in such haste--I was running after someone and--\"\n\n\"And do you always forget your eyes when you run?\" asked Porthos. \"No,\" replied d'Artagnan, piqued, \"and thanks to my eyes, I can see what\nother people cannot see.\" Whether Porthos understood him or did not understand him, giving way to\nhis anger, \"Monsieur,\" said he, \"you stand a chance of getting chastised\nif you rub Musketeers in this fashion.\" \"Chastised, Monsieur!\" said d'Artagnan, \"the expression is strong.\" \"It is one that becomes a man accustomed to look his enemies in the\nface.\" \"Ah, PARDIEU! I know full well that you don't turn your back to yours.\" And the young man, delighted with his joke, went away laughing loudly. Porthos foamed with rage, and made a movement to rush after d'Artagnan. \"Presently, presently,\" cried the latter, \"when you haven't your cloak\non.\" \"At one o'clock, then, behind the Luxembourg.\" \"Very well, at one o'clock, then,\" replied d'Artagnan, turning the angle\nof the street. But neither in the street he had passed through, nor in the one which\nhis eager glance pervaded, could he see anyone; however slowly the\nstranger had walked, he was gone on his way, or perhaps had entered some\nhouse. D'Artagnan inquired of everyone he met with, went down to the\nferry, came up again by the Rue de Seine, and the Red Cross; but\nnothing, absolutely nothing! This chase was, however, advantageous to\nhim in one sense, for in proportion as the perspiration broke from his\nforehead, his heart began to cool. He began to reflect upon the events that had passed; they were numerous\nand inauspicious. It was scarcely eleven o'clock in the morning, and yet\nthis morning had already brought him into disgrace with M. de Treville,\nwho could not fail to think the manner in which d'Artagnan had left him\na little cavalier. Besides this, he had drawn upon himself two good duels with two men,\neach capable of killing three d'Artagnans--with two Musketeers, in\nshort, with two of those beings whom he esteemed so greatly that he\nplaced them in his mind and heart above all other men. The outlook was sad. Sure of being killed by Athos, it may easily be\nunderstood that the young man was not very uneasy about Porthos. As\nhope, however, is the last thing extinguished in the heart of man, he\nfinished by hoping that he might survive, even though with terrible\nwounds, in both these duels; and in case of surviving, he made the\nfollowing reprehensions upon his own conduct:\n\n\"What a madcap I was, and what a stupid fellow I am! That brave and\nunfortunate Athos was wounded on that very shoulder against which I must\nrun head foremost, like a ram. The only thing that astonishes me is that\nhe did not strike me dead at once. He had good cause to do so; the pain\nI gave him must have been atrocious. As to Porthos--oh, as to Porthos,\nfaith, that's a droll affair!\" And in spite of himself, the young man began to laugh aloud, looking\nround carefully, however, to see that his solitary laugh, without a\ncause in the eyes of passers-by, offended no one. \"As to Porthos, that is certainly droll; but I am not the less a giddy\nfool. Are people to be run against without warning? No! And have I any\nright to go and peep under their cloaks to see what is not there? He\nwould have pardoned me, he would certainly have pardoned me, if I had\nnot said anything to him about that cursed baldric--in ambiguous words,\nit is true, but rather drolly ambiguous. Ah, cursed Gascon that I am, I\nget from one hobble into another. Friend d'Artagnan,\" continued he,\nspeaking to himself with all the amenity that he thought due himself,\n\"if you escape, of which there is not much chance, I would advise you to\npractice perfect politeness for the future. You must henceforth be\nadmired and quoted as a model of it. To be obliging and polite does not\nnecessarily make a man a coward. Look at Aramis, now; Aramis is mildness\nand grace personified. Well, did anybody ever dream of calling Aramis a\ncoward? No, certainly not, and from this moment I will endeavor to model\nmyself after him. Ah! That's strange! Here he is!\" D'Artagnan, walking and soliloquizing, had arrived within a few steps of\nthe hotel d'Arguillon and in front of that hotel perceived Aramis,\nchatting gaily with three gentlemen; but as he had not forgotten that it\nwas in presence of this young man that M. de Treville had been so angry\nin the morning, and as a witness of the rebuke the Musketeers had\nreceived was not likely to be at all agreeable, he pretended not to see\nhim. D'Artagnan, on the contrary, quite full of his plans of\nconciliation and courtesy, approached the young men with a profound bow,\naccompanied by a most gracious smile. All four, besides, immediately\nbroke off their conversation. D'Artagnan was not so dull as not to perceive that he was one too many;\nbut he was not sufficiently broken into the fashions of the gay world to\nknow how to extricate himself gallantly from a false position, like that\nof a man who begins to mingle with people he is scarcely acquainted with\nand in a conversation that does not concern him. He was seeking in his\nmind, then, for the least awkward means of retreat, when he remarked\nthat Aramis had let his handkerchief fall, and by mistake, no doubt, had\nplaced his foot upon it.\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.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-14 The user is reading a book]\n<User> This appeared to be a favorable opportunity to\nrepair his intrusion. He stooped, and with the most gracious air he\ncould assume, drew the handkerchief from under the foot of the Musketeer\nin spite of the efforts the latter made to detain it, and holding it out\nto him, said, \"I believe, monsieur, that this is a handkerchief you\nwould be sorry to lose?\" The handkerchief was indeed richly embroidered, and had a coronet and\narms at one of its corners. Aramis blushed excessively, and snatched\nrather than took the handkerchief from the hand of the Gascon. \"Ah, ah!\" cried one of the Guards, \"will you persist in saying, most\ndiscreet Aramis, that you are not on good terms with Madame de\nBois-Tracy, when that gracious lady has the kindness to lend you one of\nher handkerchiefs?\" Aramis darted at d'Artagnan one of those looks which inform a man that\nhe has acquired a mortal enemy. Then, resuming his mild air, \"You are\ndeceived, gentlemen,\" said he, \"this handkerchief is not mine, and I\ncannot fancy why Monsieur has taken it into his head to offer it to me\nrather than to one of you; and as a proof of what I say, here is mine in\nmy pocket.\" So saying, he pulled out his own handkerchief, likewise a very elegant\nhandkerchief, and of fine cambric--though cambric was dear at the\nperiod--but a handkerchief without embroidery and without arms, only\nornamented with a single cipher, that of its proprietor. This time d'Artagnan was not hasty. He perceived his mistake; but the\nfriends of Aramis were not at all convinced by his denial, and one of\nthem addressed the young Musketeer with affected seriousness. \"If it\nwere as you pretend it is,\" said he, \"I should be forced, my dear\nAramis, to reclaim it myself; for, as you very well know, Bois-Tracy is\nan intimate friend of mine, and I cannot allow the property of his wife\nto be sported as a trophy.\" \"You make the demand badly,\" replied Aramis; \"and while acknowledging\nthe justice of your reclamation, I refuse it on account of the form.\" \"The fact is,\" hazarded d'Artagnan, timidly, \"I did not see the\nhandkerchief fall from the pocket of Monsieur Aramis. He had his foot\nupon it, that is all; and I thought from having his foot upon it the\nhandkerchief was his.\" \"And you were deceived, my dear sir,\" replied Aramis, coldly, very\nlittle sensible to the reparation. Then turning toward that one of the\nguards who had declared himself the friend of Bois-Tracy, \"Besides,\"\ncontinued he, \"I have reflected, my dear intimate of Bois-Tracy, that I\nam not less tenderly his friend than you can possibly be; so that\ndecidedly this handkerchief is as likely to have fallen from your pocket\nas mine.\" \"No, upon my honor!\" cried his Majesty's Guardsman. \"You are about to swear upon your honor and I upon my word, and then it\nwill be pretty evident that one of us will have lied. Now, here,\nMontaran, we will do better than that--let each take a half.\" \"Of the handkerchief?\" \"Yes.\" \"Perfectly just,\" cried the other two Guardsmen, \"the judgment of King\nSolomon! Aramis, you certainly are full of wisdom!\" The young men burst into a laugh, and as may be supposed, the affair had\nno other sequel. In a moment or two the conversation ceased, and the\nthree Guardsmen and the Musketeer, after having cordially shaken hands,\nseparated, the Guardsmen going one way and Aramis another. \"Now is my time to make peace with this gallant man,\" said d'Artagnan to\nhimself, having stood on one side during the whole of the latter part of\nthe conversation; and with this good feeling drawing near to Aramis, who\nwas departing without paying any attention to him, \"Monsieur,\" said he,\n\"you will excuse me, I hope.\" \"Ah, monsieur,\" interrupted Aramis, \"permit me to observe to you that\nyou have not acted in this affair as a gallant man ought.\" \"What, monsieur!\" cried d'Artagnan, \"and do you suppose--\"\n\n\"I suppose, monsieur, that you are not a fool, and that you knew very\nwell, although coming from Gascony, that people do not tread upon\nhandkerchiefs without a reason. What the devil! Paris is not paved with\ncambric!\" \"Monsieur, you act wrongly in endeavoring to mortify me,\" said\nd'Artagnan, in whom the natural quarrelsome spirit began to speak more\nloudly than his pacific resolutions. \"I am from Gascony, it is true; and\nsince you know it, there is no occasion to tell you that Gascons are not\nvery patient, so that when they have begged to be excused once, were it\neven for a folly, they are convinced that they have done already at\nleast as much again as they ought to have done.\" \"Monsieur, what I say to you about the matter,\" said Aramis, \"is not for\nthe sake of seeking a quarrel. Thank God, I am not a bravo! And being a\nMusketeer but for a time, I only fight when I am forced to do so, and\nalways with great repugnance; but this time the affair is serious, for\nhere is a lady compromised by you.\" \"By US, you mean!\" cried d'Artagnan. \"Why did you so maladroitly restore me the handkerchief?\" \"Why did you so awkwardly let it fall?\" \"I have said, monsieur, and I repeat, that the handkerchief did not fall\nfrom my pocket.\" \"And thereby you have lied twice, monsieur, for I saw it fall.\" \"Ah, you take it with that tone, do you, Master Gascon? Well, I will\nteach you how to behave yourself.\" \"And I will send you back to your Mass book, Master Abbe. Draw, if you\nplease, and instantly--\"\n\n\"Not so, if you please, my good friend--not here, at least. Do you not\nperceive that we are opposite the Hotel d'Arguillon, which is full of\nthe cardinal's creatures? How do I know that this is not his Eminence\nwho has honored you with the commission to procure my head? Now, I\nentertain a ridiculous partiality for my head, it seems to suit my\nshoulders so correctly. I wish to kill you, be at rest as to that, but\nto kill you quietly in a snug, remote place, where you will not be able\nto boast of your death to anybody.\" \"I agree, monsieur; but do not be too confident. Take your handkerchief;\nwhether it belongs to you or another, you may perhaps stand in need of\nit.\" \"Monsieur is a Gascon?\" asked Aramis. \"Yes. Monsieur does not postpone an interview through prudence?\" \"Prudence, monsieur, is a virtue sufficiently useless to Musketeers, I\nknow, but indispensable to churchmen; and as I am only a Musketeer\nprovisionally, I hold it good to be prudent. At two o'clock I shall have\nthe honor of expecting you at the hotel of Monsieur de Treville. There I\nwill indicate to you the best place and time.\" The two young men bowed and separated, Aramis ascending the street which\nled to the Luxembourg, while d'Artagnan, perceiving the appointed hour\nwas approaching, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to\nhimself, \"Decidedly I can't draw back; but at least, if I am killed, I\nshall be killed by a Musketeer.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-14, 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 2024-01-14", "answer": "Monsieur de Treville, King's Musketeers, d'Artagnan, Cardinal Richelieu, Porthos, Aramis, Athos, queen's heir, priesthood, cardinal's guards, tavern disturbance, wounded Athos, letter of introduction, mysterious nobleman, Milady, Royal Academy, man from Meung, duels, golden shoulder belt, lady's handkerchief, Paris, loyalty, rivalry, friendship, courage, honor, Gascon, king, queen, recommendation letter, six against three, street fighting, challenge to duel, musketeers' banter, arrest, death of musketeers, revenge, identity concealment, nobleman\u2019s identity, rivalry between king and cardinal"}]