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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 400/849
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The
lady
with
the
red
cushion
produced
a
great
effect
--
for
she
was
very
handsome
--
upon
the
lady
with
he
black
hood
,
who
saw
in
her
a
rival
really
to
be
dreaded
;
a
great
effect
upon
Porthos
,
who
thought
her
much
prettier
than
the
lady
with
the
black
hood
;
a
great
effect
upon
d'Artagnan
,
who
recognized
in
her
the
lady
of
Meung
,
of
Calais
,
and
of
Dover
,
whom
his
persecutor
,
the
man
with
the
scar
,
had
saluted
by
the
name
of
Milady
.
D'Artagnan
,
without
losing
sight
of
the
lady
of
the
red
cushion
,
continued
to
watch
the
proceedings
of
Porthos
,
which
amused
him
greatly
.
He
guessed
that
the
lady
of
the
black
hood
was
the
procurator
's
wife
of
the
Rue
aux
Ours
,
which
was
the
more
probable
from
the
church
of
St.
Leu
being
not
far
from
that
locality
.
He
guessed
,
likewise
,
by
induction
,
that
Porthos
was
taking
his
revenge
for
the
defeat
of
Chantilly
,
when
the
procurator
's
wife
had
proved
so
refractory
with
respect
to
her
purse
.
Amid
all
this
,
d'Artagnan
remarked
also
that
not
one
countenance
responded
to
the
gallantries
of
Porthos
.
There
were
only
chimeras
and
illusions
;
but
for
real
love
,
for
true
jealousy
,
is
there
any
reality
except
illusions
and
chimeras
?
The
sermon
over
,
the
procurator
's
wife
advanced
toward
the
holy
font
.
Porthos
went
before
her
,
and
instead
of
a
finger
,
dipped
his
whole
hand
in
.
The
procurator
's
wife
smiled
,
thinking
that
it
was
for
her
Porthos
had
put
himself
to
this
trouble
;
but
she
was
cruelly
and
promptly
undeceived
.
When
she
was
only
about
three
steps
from
him
,
he
turned
his
head
round
,
fixing
his
eyes
steadfastly
upon
the
lady
with
the
red
cushion
,
who
had
risen
and
was
approaching
,
followed
by
her
black
boy
and
her
woman
.
When
the
lady
of
the
red
cushion
came
close
to
Porthos
,
Porthos
drew
his
dripping
hand
from
the
font
.
The
fair
worshipper
touched
the
great
hand
of
Porthos
with
her
delicate
fingers
,
smiled
,
made
the
sign
of
the
cross
,
and
left
the
church
.
This
was
too
much
for
the
procurator
's
wife
;
she
doubted
not
there
was
an
intrigue
between
this
lady
and
Porthos
.
If
she
had
been
a
great
lady
she
would
have
fainted
;
but
as
she
was
only
a
procurator
's
wife
,
she
contented
herself
saying
to
the
Musketeer
with
concentrated
fury
,
"
Eh
,
Monsieur
Porthos
,
you
do
n't
offer
me
any
holy
water
?
"
Porthos
,
at
the
sound
of
that
voice
,
started
like
a
man
awakened
from
a
sleep
of
a
hundred
years
.
"
Ma-madame
!
"
cried
he
;
"
is
that
you
?
How
is
your
husband
,
our
dear
Monsieur
Coquenard
?
Is
he
still
as
stingy
as
ever
?
Where
can
my
eyes
have
been
not
to
have
seen
you
during
the
two
hours
of
the
sermon
?
"
"
I
was
within
two
paces
of
you
,
monsieur
,
"
replied
the
procurator
's
wife
;
"
but
you
did
not
perceive
me
because
you
had
no
eyes
but
for
the
pretty
lady
to
whom
you
just
now
gave
the
holy
water
.
"
