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"D'Artagnan and the Iron Mask or Two Years Later - Book 2"
An unknown manuscript by Alexandre Dumas, found in an antique shop in Clermont-Ferrand and purchased for 32,000 euros, along with all rights of editing, copying and publishing, from Master Jacques Perrin, a descendant of one of the heroes of this book.
Adapted translation: Vadim A. Zhmud (owner of the manuscript and publication rights).
© Vadim Zhmud 2022
© Vadim Zhmud 2025 (latest version)
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Summary of the first book
The first book tells how the author of the novel "The Vicomte de Bragelonne" Alexandre Dumas, having heard criticism of the ending of his novel from the young Marquise Dayon de Livry, decided to rewrite it. Contrary to the first version, which describes the death of Porthos, Muston, Raoul, Athos and d'Artagnan, in the new version of this ending only Muston really dies, but he does not die at the moment and for the reason described in the first version, but later at the hands of Colbert's spies. The death of the other heroes, by a lucky chance, did not happen.
Aramis, Bishop of Vannes, in his adventure of replacing the King with his twin brother Philippe, languishing in the Bastille, hoped to become the true ruler of France, and then aimed at becoming a cardinal and even Pope. Although the substitution of the King was only successful for a short time, so that his plans were not realized, nevertheless, he became quite an influential person in the politics of Europe, since he became General of the Order of the Jesuits, and also Duke of Alameda, the Spanish ambassador to the court of France.
D'Artagnan, who was ordered by Louis XIV to destroy all his best friends - Athos, Porthos, Aramis and Raoul, decides to hide from the King that Porthos was accidentally saved and not to carry out the King's order, but on the contrary to save Athos and Raoul, however, having arrived at the scene of the battle, he receives erroneous news about Raoul's death in the battle and Athos's death from poison. Later, he learns from Aramis's messenger that everything was deliberately arranged so that everyone decided that Raoul and Athos had died. D'Artagnan informs the King that Athos, Porthos and Raoul have died, and brings genuine documents about their deaths, drawn up by those who had no doubt about it. D'Artagnan declares that all that remains for him to do is to carry out the order regarding Aramis. However, the King does not believe d'Artagnan and sets a trap for him and Aramis, condemning them to a painful death in the Bastille from hunger in front of each other. Captain d'Artagnan's resourcefulness helps him and Aramis to escape, after which d'Artagnan comes to the conclusion that it is necessary to repeat Aramis's adventurous plan to replace the King with his twin brother. However, over time, he understands that although his choice is correct for saving his friends, it is not correct from the standpoint of the interests of France, so he allows Louis, who escaped from the abbey, to take his former place on the throne of France. The King pretends to forgive Aramis and d'Artagnan, but the punishing sword of revenge of Louis XIV and Colbert is raised over them. The captain seriously considers the idea of staging his death, turning to Count Rochefort for help in this, however, fate itself does everything for him. The circumstances of the captain's injury are such that even Count Rochefort believes that d'Artagnan did not survive and really died.
As a result, the King and his minister Colbert consider Athos, Porthos, d'Artagnan and Raoul dead. Only the Duchess de Chevreuse, known to readers from the novel "The Three Musketeers" as Marie Michon, Aramis's lover and a close friend of Queen Anne of Austria, mother of Raoul, Vicomte de Bragelonne, knows that Athos and Raoul were saved.
While saving his friends, d'Artagnan also acquired new enemies, including the de Trabuçon family, in which the wife, Madame Olivia, was the main organizer and instigator of all the troubles, and her miserable husband Didier was only her tool. Their son Auguste was also only an executor of Olivia's will.
You can find out more by reading the first book at the link https://proza.ru/2022/11/10/1425 .
At the last meeting of the four friends, readers see that they are being watched by Didier de Trabuçon, who had previously acted as a spy for Colbert. How did this man manage to escape from the Ottoman Empire, where he was given as a eunuch to the influential Ahmed Pasha? Was it not Colbert who sent him to spy on the four friends? True, Aramis fired a musket into the bushes where he was hiding, after which a scream was heard from the bushes. Did de Trabuçon escape? What was the letter on Aramis's chest that he was afraid of losing? How will the adventures of the four friends develop further? Readers will learn about this in the second book of the dilogy.
Author's Preface
My readers probably remember how the novel "Ten Years Later" ends. No matter how much I love my heroes, we must remember that all people are mortal, so I tried to describe not only their life full of incredible adventures, but also their death, worthy of all respect, where I showed that until the very last minute of their lives, each of them remained the noblest nobleman, faithful to the duty of honor. But my little tormentor, the charming young Marquise Dion de Livry, smashed my authorial pride to smithereens, pointing out to me such inaccuracies in my trilogy about the musketeers that destroy my assertion about their true friendship, about their eternal motto "One for all and all for one!" She categorically demanded that I rework the ending of the novel, correcting everything that seemed illogical to her and violated the general spirit of the musketeer brotherhood. Unfortunately, her arguments were so strong that I could not brush her aside like an annoying fly. At the same time, she demanded that I confirm her “brilliant” guess that Porthos, Raoul, Athos and d’Artagnan did not die as absurdly as I had described. The young scoundrel was so young and so sweet that I did not have the courage to argue with her. I frivolously confirmed that I was, allegedly, indeed writing a sequel in which I would explain all the inaccuracies of the novel “The Vicomte de Bragelonne”, and also carelessly promised to send her the manuscript of this novel. Not being particularly responsible, I thought that I would easily forget my promise, and she herself, having grown up, would forget about this conversation. However, the young Marquise Dion de Livry, as it turned out from her numerous letters, never forgot for a day about the promises I had made, and her letters became more and more demanding, and I, due to the weakness of my soul and extreme indulgence towards young ladies, who, to my misfortune, pleased me with their childish spontaneity, could not decisively refuse my promise, and also did not imagine that I would be deprived of these regular letters from the young Marquise.
When I met my young tormentor again, who by this time had already become a charming young mademoiselle, but had not lost her liveliness of mind, I felt that I wanted even more to please her with my literary talent.
“What do you say this time, charming marchioness, about the fate of my heroes in my latest work?” I asked, expecting to receive, at the very least, joyful approval.
“I’ll say that you only listened to some of my comments,” replied the seductive scoundrel.
- Only to some? - I was surprised. - I finished the novel almost entirely according to your recommendations, and still didn’t please you?!
"It's boring," the Marquise replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Raoul is a pattern, Athos is little better, Porthos differs from the dry pattern only in that he can't digest seafood, and the rest are no better. Some strange characters appear in the novel, all these de Trabusons and others. You only succeeded in four people: d'Artagnan himself, de Bezmo, de Saint-Mars, and Louis."
“You are unfair, my dear!” I objected. “And Aramis? And Philippe? And Colbert? And Fouquet? And the Duchess de Chevreuse, after all?”
— As soon as you pay attention to one person, you immediately forget about everyone else. All your heroes do is travel from Paris to the island of Sainte-Marguerite and back! Or even further - to the Greek island of Cyprus or even to Scotland! If you start timing how long each trip should take, then you will get complete stupidity.
- You cannot please me, my dear! - I cried. - In that case I refuse to write any more and will destroy what I have already written! What a blind man I have been! A writer should write only what his own imagination suggests to him, he must not listen to anyone, he must not consult anyone! I will destroy this manuscript, and let everything remain as it was! It is decided! Porthos died in the cave of Locmaria, Raoul - in the war, Athos in his bed of grief, Mouston - while reading the will of the illustrious Porthos, and d'Artagnan died - yes, yes! - d'Artagnan died! He died from a cannonball, and that's all!
- Ugh, how hot-tempered you are! - the marchioness pouted and stuck out her lower lip in a charming way. - You can't stand the slightest remark!
- Yes, yes, and yes again! - I said, gradually calming down. - Just think! I spent a whole month on this new novel, I was in such a hurry that in some places it consists only of dialogues, I betrayed myself by not once describing a single feast! I thought that you would love this work, I thought, damn me, that you would embrace me and kiss me at least on the cheek for all my efforts!..
“That won’t be the case,” said the devilish charm, glided towards me, hugged me tightly, and left traces of its wet lips on my right cheek.
“Well then…” I muttered. “Of course, I got carried away… But explain to me, for God’s sake, what didn’t you like?”
"The last chapters," she said. "You wrote the last chapters in such a way that it is clear to all readers that the novel is coming to an end, all that remains is to put all the characters in their places and close the book."
- But have mercy! - I exclaimed. - After all, this is the law of the genre! Every novel eventually comes to an end, and in this ending all conflicts are resolved.
- Firstly, you can't say that about some of your other novels, - she answered, abruptly returning to her seat. - I mean your best novels. Secondly, life doesn't obey this rule, and the best novel should be like life, not a novel! Every time one problem is solved, another arises, while the heroes are alive, that's real life! And you? Everyone is happy, everyone has gone to Scotland, everyone is doing well! From this it is clear that there will be no sequel.
“I didn’t plan it, my dear!” I replied.
"Well, all right then," she said. "So be it. That means there will be no continuation."
And she looked at me so eloquently that I read in her eyes: “That kiss on the cheek that you just received from me was the last one!”
“I did, however, sketch out a plan for continuing the novel,” I lied. “But you have, I think, convinced me that it is not worth continuing.”
- Me?! I convinced you?! - exclaimed the little monster. - I'm trying to convince you to write the next part and to liven up a little those heroes in whom I didn't see the liveliness that was in your first novels about the musketeers! So that's how you understood me! Charming!
She then waved her arms and finished her gesture with her palms facing upward, which seemed to mean, "Look at this little guy!"
"I seem to be a fetter on your imagination!" she said, wrinkling her nose. "And I imagined myself to be his muse!"
The corners of her eyes sparkled, and I thought with horror that tears might appear in them. I confess that I fear girls' tears even more than morning jogging.
“I swear to you, my dear, that you were my muse!” I cried, almost without lying. “And I ask you to continue to be one!”
“Is this true?” she asked.
In her eyes I read my fate.
To me, her question meant about the same as if she had asked, “Do you really prefer to go to Heaven rather than Hell?”
“Oh my God, of course it’s true!” I replied, almost believing my own words.
“And do you really have a plan for the second volume?” she asked.
- How could you doubt it? Of course there is! Five whole pages! - I lied, and I believe I didn’t give myself away in any way.
There are moments when you need to be able to lie, and as convincingly as possible. So here it is, the second part of my novel, written under the pressure of my tormentor and my muse in one person.
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