Later, around ten o'clock, they crossed the Petit Pont. Like most of the bridges in Paris, the Petit Pont was built up; on either side of the narrow roadway stood a row of houses which could in no way be distinguished from those on an ordinary street and which made it possible to cross the Seine without ever catching a glimpse of the river. On the Left Bank, they followed rue de la Harpe and then rue des Cordeliers as far as the Saint-Germain gate,
where they were slowed by an impatient, agitated crowd. But such delays in passing through the city gates were an unavoidable ordeal for anyone wishing to leave Paris or reach its faubourgs.
The capital was indeed fortified in its fashion. Punctuated by turrets topped with conical "pepper pots," the mediaeval walls measured over four metres in height and overlooked a series of ditches. They were supposed to protect the city in times of war, whether domestic or foreign. However, these defences did not seem at all warlike in this period. One would search in vain for the smallest cannon. The ditches were filled with rubbish. And the ramparts were falling into ruin despite the best efforts of the city authorities to rebuild them. Parisians, who could not be fooled, said that their walls were made of nothing more than potter's clay and that one shot from a musket could create a breach, while a drum roll would be enough to bring them tumbling to the ground. Nevertheless, it was not possible to enter Paris except through one of these gates. They were large buildings as outmoded as they were dilapidated, but they accommodated the Paris tax collectors, as well as the city's militia. The first levied taxes on all merchandise entering the city while the second examined foreigners' passports. Both groups carried out their duties zealously, which did nothing to speed the flow of traffic.
Once they reached the faubourg Saint-Germain, Athos and Leprat passed before the church of Saint-Sulpice and, taking rue du Vieux-Colombier, entered the gates to the Treville mansion.
Monsieur de Treville being the captain of the King's Musketeers, this building was more like a military encampment than a great man's residence. It was filled with a jostling crowd and one ran a constant risk of bumping shoulders with some proud gentleman of no fortune but with a murderous eye. Although lacking in wealth, all of His Majesty's Musketeers had hot blue blood. All were ready to draw swords at the first provocation. And all of them, whether they were on duty or not and whether they wore the blue cape with its silver fleur-de-lis cross or not, tended to congregate here in their captain's house. They gathered in the courtyard, slept in the stables, mounted guard on the stairs, played dice in the antechambers, and, on occasion, even joyfully crossed blades in the hallways for entertainment, training, or the demonstration of the excellence of a particular series of moves. This picturesque spectacle that visitors found so striking was by no means extraordinary. In these times, most soldiers were recruited only when war loomed and then dispersed, for reasons of economy, once their services were no longer required. As for the few permanent regiments that existed, they were not barracked
anywhere . . . due a lack of barracks. As members of the king's own prestigious military household, the Musketeers were among these few troops who were always available and not disbanded in peacetime. Nevertheless, no particular arrangements were made for housing them, equipping them, or supplying their daily needs: the pay they received from the king's Treasury, as paltry and irregular as it was, was supposed to suffice for these provisions.
Within the Hotel de Treville, everyone had heard about the ambush into which Leprat had fallen. Rumour had said that he was dead or dying, so his return to the fold was warmly greeted. Without participating in the effusive cries of joy and other virile manifestations of affection, Athos accompanied Leprat as far as the great staircase littered with musketeers, servants, and various seekers of favour. There, he took his leave.
"Remember to conserve your strength, my friend. You've received a hard knock."
"I promise you I will. Thank you, Athos."
Leprat was announced and did not have to wait long in the antechamber. Captain de Treville received him almost immediately in his office, rising to greet him when he entered.
"Come in, Leprat, come in. And have a seat. I am delighted to see you, but I did not expect to see you on your feet again so soon. I was even planning to come and visit you at home this evening."
Leprat thanked him and took a chair, while monsieur de Treville sat down again at his desk.
"First of all, how are you?"
"Well."
"Your arm? Your thigh?"
"They both serve me once again."
"Perfect. Now, your report."
The musketeer began, recounting how he had initially overcome Malen-contre's henchmen but allowed the leader himself to escape.
"'Malencontre,' you say?"
"That's the name he gave me."