In which we hear Tidings of Aramis.
D'Artagnan went straight to the stables; day was just dawning. He found his horse and that of Porthos fastened to the manger, but to an empty manger. He took pity on these poor animals and went to a corner of the stable, where he saw a little straw, but in doing so he struck his foot against a human body, which uttered a cry and arose on its knees, rubbing its eyes. It was Musqueton, who, having no straw to lie upon, had helped himself to that of the horses.
"Musqueton," cried D'Artagnan, "let us be off! Let us set off."
Musqueton, recognizing the voice of his master's friend, got up suddenly, and in doing so let fall some louis which he had appropriated to himself illegally during the night.
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, picking up a louis and displaying it; "here's a louis that smells confoundedly of straw."
Musqueton blushed so confusedly that the Gascon began to laugh at him and said:
"Porthos would be angry, my dear Monsieur Musqueton, but I pardon you, only let us remember that this gold must serve us as a joke, so be gay -- come along."
Musqueton instantly assumed a jovial countenance, saddled the horses quickly and mounted his own without making faces over it.
Whilst this went on, Porthos arrived with a very cross look on his face, and was astonished to find the lieutenant resigned and Musqueton almost merry.
"Ah, that's it!" he cried, "you have your promotion and I my barony."
"We are going to fetch our brevets," said D'Artagnan, "and when we come back, Master Mazarin will sign them."
"And where are we going?" asked Porthos.
"To Paris first; I have affairs to settle."
And they both set out for Paris.
On arriving at its gates they were astounded to see the threatening aspect of the capital. Around a broken-down carriage the people were uttering imprecations, whilst the persons who had attempted to escape were made prisoners -- that is to say, an old man and two women. On the other hand, as the two friends approached to enter, they showed them every kind of civility, thinking them deserters from the royal party and wishing to bind them to their own.
"What is the king doing?" they asked.
"He is asleep."
"And the Spanish woman?"
"Dreaming."
"And the cursed Italian?"
"He is awake, so keep on the watch, as they are gone away; it's for some purpose, rely on it. But as you are the strongest, after all," continued D'Artagnan, "don't be furious with old men and women, and keep your wrath for more appropriate occasions."
The people listened to these words and let go the ladies, who thanked D'Artagnan with an eloquent look.
"Now! onward!" cried the Gascon.
And they continued their way, crossing the barricades, getting the chains about their legs, pushed about, questioning and questioned.
In the place of the Palais Royal D'Artagnan saw a sergeant, who was drilling six or seven hundred citizens. It was Planchet, who brought into play profitably the recollections of the regiment of Piedmont.
In passing before D'Artagnan he recognized his former master.
"Good-day, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Planchet proudly.
"Good-day, Monsieur Dulaurier," replied D'Artagnan.
Planchet stopped short, staring at D'Artagnan. The first row, seeing their sergeant stop, stopped in their turn, and so on to the very last.
"These citizens are dreadfully ridiculous," observed D'Artagnan to Porthos and went on his way.
Five minutes afterward he entered the hotel of La Chevrette, where pretty Madeleine, the hostess, came to him.
"My dear Mistress Turquaine," said the Gascon, "if you happen to have any money, lock it up quickly; if you happen to have any jewels, hide them directly; if you happen to have any debtors, make them pay you, or any creditors, don't pay them."
"Why, prithee?" asked Madeleine.
"Because Paris is going to be reduced to dust and ashes like Babylon, of which you have no doubt heard tell."
"And are you going to leave me at such a time?"
"This very instant."
"And where are you going?"
"Ah, if you could tell me that, you would be doing me a service."
"Ah, me! ah, me!
"Have you any letters for me?" inquired D'Artagnan, wishing to signify to the hostess that her lamentations were superfluous and that therefore she had better spare him demonstrations of her grief.
"There's one just arrived," and she handed the letter to D'Artagnan.
"From Athos!" cried D'Artagnan, recognizing the handwriting.
"Ah!" said Porthos, "let us hear what he says."
D'Artagnan opened the letter and read as follows:
"Dear D'Artagnan, dear Du Vallon, my good friends, perhaps this may be the last time that you will ever hear from me.
Aramis and I are very unhappy; but God, our courage, and the remembrance of our friendship sustain us. Think often of Raoul. I intrust to you certain papers which are at Blois; and in two months and a half, if you do not hear of us, take possession of them.
"Embrace, with all your heart, the vicomte, for your devoted, friend, "ATHOS."
"I believe, by Heaven," said D'Artagnan, "that I shall embrace him, since he's upon our road; and if he is so unfortunate as to lose our dear Athos, from that very day he becomes my son."
"And I," said Porthos, "shall make him my sole heir."
"Let us see, what more does Athos say?"
"Should you meet on your journey a certain Monsieur Mordaunt, distrust him, in a letter I cannot say more."
"Monsieur Mordaunt!" exclaimed the Gascon, surprised.
"Monsieur Mordaunt! 'tis well," said Porthos, "we shall remember that; but see, there is a postscript from Aramis."
"So there is," said D'Artagnan, and he read:
"We conceal the place where we are, dear friends, knowing your brotherly affection and that you would come and die with us were we to reveal it."
"Confound it," interrupted Porthos, with an explosion of passion which sent Musqueton to the other end of the room;
"are they in danger of dying?"
D'Artagnan continued:
