CHAPTER 69
In which the Reader, no doubt, will be as astonished
as D'Artagnan was to meet an Old Acquaintance
There is always something in a landing, if it be only from
the smallest sea-boat -- a trouble and a confusion which do
not leave the mind the liberty of which it stands in need in
order to study at the first glance the new locality
presented to it. The movable bridges, the agitated sailors,
the noise of the water on the pebbles, the cries and
importunities of those who wait upon the shores, are
multiplied details of that sensation which is summed up in
one single result -- hesitation. It was not, then, till
after standing several minutes on the shore that D'Artagnan
saw upon the port, but more particularly in the interior of
the isle, an immense number of workmen in motion. At his
feet D'Artagnan recognized the five chalands laden with
rough stone he had seen leave the port of Pirial. The
smaller stones were transported to the shore by means of a
chain formed by twenty-five or thirty peasants. The large
stones were loaded on trollies which conveyed them in the
same direction as the others, that is to say, towards the
works of which D'Artagnan could as yet appreciate neither
the strength nor the extent. Everywhere was to be seen an
activity equal to that which Telemachus observed on his
landing at Salentum. D'Artagnan felt a strong inclination to
penetrate into the interior; but he could not, under the
penalty of exciting mistrust, exhibit too much curiosity. He
advanced then little by little, scarcely going beyond the
line formed by the fishermen on the beach, observing
everything, saying nothing, and meeting all suspicion that
might have been excited with a half-silly question or a
polite bow. And yet, whilst his companions carried on their
trade, giving or selling their fish to the workmen or the
inhabitants of the city, D'Artagnan had gained ground by
degrees, and, reassured by the little attention paid to him,
he began to cast an intelligent and confident look upon the
men and things that appeared before his eyes. And his very
first glance fell on certain movements of earth about which
the eye of a soldier could not be mistaken. At the two
extremities of the port, in order that their fires should
converge upon the great axis of the ellipsis formed by the
basin, in the first place, two batteries had been raised,
evidently destined to receive flank pieces, for D'Artagnan
saw the workmen finishing the platform and making ready the
demi-circumference in wood upon which the wheels of the
pieces might turn to embrace every direction over the
epaulement. By the side of each of these batteries other
workmen were strengthening gabions filled with earth, the
lining of another battery. The latter had embrasures, and
the overseer of the works called successively men who, with
cords, tied the saucissons and cut the lozenges and right
angles of turfs destined to retain the matting of the
embrasures. By the activity displayed in these works,
already so far advanced, they might be considered as
finished: they were not yet furnished with their cannons,
but the platforms had their gites and their madriers all
prepared; the earth, beaten carefully, was consolidated; and
supposing the artillery to be on the island, in less than
two or three days the port might be completely armed. That
which astonished D'Artagnan, when he turned his eyes from
the coast batteries to the fortifications of the city, was
to see that Belle-Isle was defended by an entirely new
system, of which he had often heard the Comte de la Fere
speak as a wonderful advance, but of which he had as yet
never seen the application. These fortifications belonged
neither to the Dutch method of Marollais, nor to the French
method of the Chevalier Antoine de Ville, but to the system
of Manesson Mallet, a skillful engineer, who about six or
eight years previously had quitted the service of Portugal
to enter that of France. The works had this peculiarity,
that instead of rising above the earth, as did the ancient
ramparts destined to defend a city from escalades, they, on
the contrary, sank into it; and what created the height of
the walls was the depth of the ditches. It did not take long
to make D'Artagnan perceive the superiority of such a
system, which gives no advantage to cannon. Besides, as the
fosses were lower than, or on a level with the sea, these
fosses could be instantly inundated by means of subterranean
sluices. Otherwise, the works were almost complete, and a
group of workmen, receiving orders from a man who appeared
to be conductor of the works, were occupied in placing the
last stones. A bridge of planks thrown over the fosses for
the greater convenience of the maneuvers connected with the
barrows, joined the interior to the exterior. With an air of
simple curiosity D'Artagnan asked if he might be permitted
to cross the bridge, and he was told that no order prevented
it. Consequently he crossed the bridge, and advanced towards
the group.
This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had
already remarked, and who appeared to be the
engineer-in-chief. A plan was lying open before him upon a
large stone forming a table, and at some paces from him a
crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evident
importance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore
a justaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness was scarcely in
harmony with the work he was employed in, that rather
necessitated the costume of a master-mason than of a noble.
He was a man of immense stature and great square shoulders,
and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulated in the
most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only saw
his back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and
want of strength.
D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment the man
with the feathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands
placed upon his knees, was following, half-bent, the effort
of six workmen to raise a block of hewn stone to the top of
a piece of timber destined to support that stone, so that
the cord of the crane might be passed under it. The six men,
all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise
it to eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and
blowing, whilst a seventh got ready against there should be
daylight enough beneath it to slide in the roller that was
to support it. But the stone had already twice escaped from
their hands before gaining a sufficient height for the
roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every
time the stone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards,
to keep their feet from being crushed by the refalling
stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper
into the damp earth, which rendered the operation more and
more difficult. A third effort was followed by no better
success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, when
the six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the
feathers had himself, with a powerful voice, given the word
of command, "Ferme!" which regulates maneuvers of strength.
Then he drew himself up.
"Oh! oh!" said he, "what is all this about? Have I to do
with men of straw? Corne de boeuf! stand on one side, and
you shall see how this is to be done."
"Peste!" said D'Artagnan, "will he pretend to raise that
rock? that would be a sight worth looking at."
The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with
their ears down, and shaking their heads, with the exception
of the one who held the plank, who prepared to perform the
office. The man with the feathers went up to the stone,
stooped, slipped his hands under the face lying upon the
ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a
strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, he
lifted the end of the rock a foot from the ground. The
workman who held the plank profited by the space thus given
him, and slipped the roller under the stone.
"That's the way," said the giant, not letting the rock fall
again, but placing it upon its support.
"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan, "I know but one man capable of
such a feat of strength."
"Hein!" cried the colossus, turning round.
"Porthos!" murmured D'Artagnan, seized with stupor, "Porthos
at Belle-Isle!"
On his part, the man with the feathers fixed his eyes upon
the disguised lieutenant, and, in spite of his
metamorphosis, recognized him. "D'Artagnan!" cried he; and
the color mounted to his face. "Hush!" said he to
D'Artagnan.
"Hush!" in his turn, said the musketeer. In fact if Porthos
had just been discovered by D'Artagnan, D'Artagnan had just
been discovered by Porthos. The interest of the particular
secret of each struck them both at the same instant.
Nevertheless the first movement of the two men was to throw
their arms around each other. What they wished to conceal
from the bystanders, was not their friendship, but their
names. But, after the embrace, came reflection.
"What the devil brings Porthos to Belle-Isle, lifting
stones?" said D'Artagnan; only D'Artagnan uttered that
question in a low voice. Less strong in diplomacy than his
friend, Porthos thought aloud.
"How the devil did you come to Belle-Isle?" asked he of
D'Artagnan; "and what do you want to do here?" It was
necessary to reply without hesitation. To hesitate in his
answer to Porthos would have been a check, for which the
self-love of D'Artagnan would never have consoled itself.
"Pardieu! my friend, I am at Belle-Isle because you are."
"Ah, bah!" said Porthos, visibly stupefied with the
argument, and seeking to account for it to himself, with the
felicity of deduction we know to be peculiar to him.
"Without doubt," continued D'Artagnan, unwilling to give his
friend time to recollect himself, "I have been to see you at
Pierrefonds."
"Indeed!"
"Yes."
"And you did not find me there?"
"No, but I found Mouston."
"Is he well?"
"Peste!"
"Well, but Mouston did not tell you I was here."
"Why should he not Have I, perchance, deserved to lose his
confidence?"
"No, but he did not know it."
"Well; that is a reason at least that does not offend my
self-love."
"Then how did you manage to find me?"
"My dear friend, a great noble like you always leaves traces
behind him on his passage; and I should think but poorly of
myself, if I were not sharp enough to follow the traces of
my friends." This explanation, flattering as it was, did not
entirely satisfy Porthos.
"But I left no traces behind me, for I came here disguised,"
said Porthos.
"Ah! You came disguised did you?" said D'Artagnan.
"Yes."
"And how?"
"As a miller."
"And do you think a great noble, like you, Porthos, can
affect common manners so as to deceive people?"
"Well, I swear to you, my friend, that I played my part so
well that everybody was deceived."
"Indeed! so well, that I have not discovered and joined
you?"
"Yes; but how did you discover and join me?"
"Stop a bit. I was going to tell you how. Do you imagine
Mouston ---- "
"Ah! it was that fellow, Mouston," said Porthos, gathering
up those two triumphant arches which served him for
eyebrows.
"But stop, I tell you -- it was no fault of Mouston's
because he was ignorant of where you were."
"I know he was; and that is why I am in such haste to
understand ---- "
"Oh! how impatient you are, Porthos."
"When I do not comprehend, I am terrible."
"Well, you will understand. Aramis wrote to you at
Pierrefonds, did he not?"
"Yes."
"And he told you to come before the equinox."
"That is true."
"Well! that is it," said D'Artagnan, hoping that this reason
would mystify Porthos. Porthos appeared to give himself up
to a violent mental labor.
"Yes, yes," said he, "I understand. As Aramis told me to
come before the equinox, you have understood that that was
to join him. You then inquired where Aramis was, saying to
yourself, `Where Aramis is, there Porthos will be.' You have
learnt that Aramis was in Bretagne, and you said to
yourself, `Porthos is in Bretagne.'"
"Exactly. In good truth, Porthos I cannot tell why you have
not turned conjurer. So you understand that arriving at
Roche-Bernard, I heard of the splendid fortifications going
on at Belle-Isle. The account raised my curiosity, I
embarked in a fishing boat, without dreaming that you were
here: I came, and I saw a monstrous fine fellow lifting a
stone Ajax could not have stirred. I cried out, `Nobody but
the Baron de Bracieux could have performed such a feat of
strength.' You heard me, you turned round, you recognized
me, we embraced; and, ma foi! if you like, my dear friend,
we will embrace again."
"Ah! now all is explained," said Porthos; and he embraced
D'Artagnan with so much friendship as to deprive the
musketeer of his breath for five minutes.
"Why, you are stronger than ever," said D'Artagnan, "and
still, happily, in your arms." Porthos saluted D'Artagnan
with a gracious smile. During the five minutes D'Artagnan
was recovering his breath, he reflected that he had a very
difficult part to play. It was necessary that he always
should question and never reply. By the time his respiration
returned, he had fixed his plans for the campaign.
