“Great Heavens！” cried Kitty， “there is my mistress calling me！ Go， go quick！”
D’Artagnan rose， took his hat as if it had been his intention to obey； then quickly opening the door of a large wardrobe， instead of the door of the staircase， he crouched down in the midst of milady’s robes and dressing-gowns.
“What are you doing？” cried Kitty.
D’Artagnan， who had secured the key， locked himself into the wardrobe without replying.
“Well，” cried milady， in a sharp voice， “are you asleep， that you don’t answer when I ring？”
And D’Artagnan heard the communicating door open violently.
“Here I am， milady， here I am！” cried Kitty， springing forward to meet her mistress.
Both went into the bedroom， and as the door remained open， D’Artagnan could hear milady for some time scolding her maid. Then at last she grew cooler， and the conversation turned upon him while Kitty was assisting her mistress to undress.
“Well，” said milady， “I have not seen our Gascon this evening.”
“What， milady！ has he not been here？” said Kitty. “Could he be inconstant before having been made happy？”
“Oh no； he must have been prevented by M. de Tréville or M. des Essarts. I understand my game， Kitty. I have him safe.”
“What are you going to do with him， madame？”
“Do with him？ O Kitty， there is something between that man and me that he is quite ignorant of. He very nearly made me lose my credit with his Eminence. Oh， I will be revenged for that！”
“I thought you loved him.”
“Love him？ I detest him—a fool， who held Lord Winter’s life in his hands and did not kill him， so that I missed three hundred thousand livres a year！”
“That’s true，” said Kitty； “your son was his uncle’s only heir， and until his coming of age you would have had the enjoyment of his fortune.”
D’Artagnan shuddered to his very marrow at hearing this gentle creature reproach him in that sharp voice， which she took such pains to conceal in conversation， for not having killed a man whom he had seen load her with kindnesses.
“Therefore，” continued milady， “I should long ago have had my revenge on him， if the cardinal—I don’t know why—had not requested me to treat him kindly.”
“Oh yes； but you have not treated very kindly the little woman he was so fond of.”
“What！ the mercer’s wife of the Rue des Fossoyeurs？ Has he not already forgotten she ever existed？ Fine vengeance that， ’pon my word！”
A cold sweat broke from D’Artagnan’s brow. This woman was a monster！
He resumed his listening， but unfortunately the toilet was completed.
“That will do，” said milady. “Go into your own room， and to-morrow try again to get for me an answer to the letter I gave you.”
“For M. de Wardes？” said Kitty.
“To be sure； for M. de Wardes.”
“He is a man，” said Kitty， “who appears to be quite different from that poor M. d’Artagnan.”
“Go to bed， miss，” said milady； “I don’t like comments.”
D’Artagnan heard the door close， then the noise of two bolts by which milady fastened herself in. Kitty on her side， as softly as possible， turned the key of the lock， and then D’Artagnan opened the closet door.
“O Heavens！” said Kitty， in a low voice， “what is the matter with you？ How pale you are！”
“The abominable creature！” murmured D’Artagnan.
“Silence， silence！ do go！” said Kitty. “There is nothing but a thin partition between my chamber and milady’s； every word spoken in one can be heard in the other.”
“That’s just the reason I won’t go，” said D’Artagnan.
“What！” said Kitty， blushing.
“Or， at least， I will go—later.”
And he drew Kitty to him. There was no way to resist—resistance makes so much noise. Therefore Kitty yielded. This was an impulse of vengeance on milady. D’Artagnan realized the truth of the saying that vengeance is the delight of the gods. Therefore， with a little natural affection， he might have been satisfied with this new conquest； but D’Artagnan knew only ambition and pride.
However， it must be said to his praise that the first use he made of his influence over Kitty was to try to learn from her what had become of Madame Bonacieux； but the poor girl swore on the crucifix to D’Artagnan that she was entirely ignorant in regard to that， her mistress never letting her know half her secrets. Only she believed she could say she was not dead.
