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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 373/849
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One
of
my
friends
--
one
of
my
friends
,
please
to
observe
,
not
myself
,
"
said
Athos
,
interrupting
himself
with
a
melancholy
smile
,
"
one
of
the
counts
of
my
province
--
that
is
to
say
,
of
Berry
--
noble
as
a
Dandolo
or
a
Montmorency
,
at
twenty-five
years
of
age
fell
in
love
with
a
girl
of
sixteen
,
beautiful
as
fancy
can
paint
.
Through
the
ingenuousness
of
her
age
beamed
an
ardent
mind
,
not
of
the
woman
,
but
of
the
poet
.
She
did
not
please
;
she
intoxicated
.
She
lived
in
a
small
town
with
her
brother
,
who
was
a
curate
.
Both
had
recently
come
into
the
country
.
They
came
nobody
knew
whence
;
but
when
seeing
her
so
lovely
and
her
brother
so
pious
,
nobody
thought
of
asking
whence
they
came
.
They
were
said
,
however
,
to
be
of
good
extraction
.
My
friend
,
who
was
seigneur
of
the
country
,
might
have
seduced
her
,
or
taken
her
by
force
,
at
his
will
--
for
he
was
master
.
Who
would
have
come
to
the
assistance
of
two
strangers
,
two
unknown
persons
?
Unfortunately
he
was
an
honorable
man
;
he
married
her
.
The
fool
!
The
ass
!
The
idiot
!
"
"
How
so
,
if
he
love
her
?
"
asked
d'Artagnan
.
"
Wait
,
"
said
Athos
.
"
He
took
her
to
his
chateau
,
and
made
her
the
first
lady
in
the
province
;
and
in
justice
it
must
be
allowed
that
she
supported
her
rank
becomingly
.
"
"
Well
?
"
asked
d'Artagnan
.
"
Well
,
one
day
when
she
was
hunting
with
her
husband
,
"
continued
Athos
,
in
a
low
voice
,
and
speaking
very
quickly
,
"
she
fell
from
her
horse
and
fainted
.
The
count
flew
to
her
to
help
,
and
as
she
appeared
to
be
oppressed
by
her
clothes
,
he
ripped
them
open
with
his
ponaird
,
and
in
so
doing
laid
bare
her
shoulder
.
d'Artagnan
,
"
said
Athos
,
with
a
maniacal
burst
of
laughter
,
"
guess
what
she
had
on
her
shoulder
.
"
"
How
can
I
tell
?
"
said
d'Artagnan
.
"
A
FLEUR-DE-LIS
,
"
said
Athos
.
"
She
was
branded
.
"
Athos
emptied
at
a
single
draught
the
glass
he
held
in
his
hand
.
"
Horror
!
"
cried
d'Artagnan
.
"
What
do
you
tell
me
?
"
