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The friends, at ease with regard to the future, did honor to the repast, the remains of which were abandoned to Mousqueton, Bazin, Planchet, and Grimaud. On arriving in Paris, d'Artagnan found a letter from M. de Treville, which informed him that, at his request, the king had promised that he should enter the company of the Musketeers.
"My God, my God!" murmured the young woman, "ought I to confide such a secret to you, monsieur? You are almost a boy." "I see that you require someone to answer for me?" "I admit that would reassure me greatly." "Do you know Athos?" "No." "Porthos?" "No." "Aramis?" "No. Who are these gentleman?" "Three of the king's Musketeers. Do you know Monsieur de Treville, their captain?" "Oh, yes, him!
"By your glorious father, and by yourself, whom I love and venerate above all the world, I swear it." "Be so kind as to reflect, sire," said the cardinal. "If we release the prisoner thus, we shall never know the truth." "Athos may always be found," replied Treville, "ready to answer, when it shall please the gownsmen to interrogate him.
He took his way toward the hotel of M. de Treville; his visit of the day before, it is to be remembered, had been very short and very little explicative. He found Treville in a joyful mood. He had thought the king and queen charming at the ball. It is true the cardinal had been particularly ill-tempered. He had retired at one o'clock under the pretense of being indisposed.
An instant after, Porthos and Aramis re-entered, the surgeon and M. de Treville alone remaining with the wounded. At length, M. de Treville himself returned. The injured man had recovered his senses. The surgeon declared that the situation of the Musketeer had nothing in it to render his friends uneasy, his weakness having been purely and simply caused by loss of blood.
'Halt, in the Emperor's name! I had known him for years as a daring officer and an unprincipled rascal. Indeed, there was a score between us, for he had shot my friend, Treville, at Warsaw, pulling his trigger, as some said, a good second before the drop of the handkerchief. Well, the words were hardly out of my mouth when his two comrades wheeled round and fired their pistols at us.
A PROPOS of the cardinal, Monsieur de Treville, I am vexed with you!" This was the chance at which M. de Treville waited for the king. He knew the king of old, and he knew that all these complaints were but a preface a sort of excitation to encourage himself and that he had now come to his point at last.
"Tell me that it isn't true," broke in Rose, her voice trembling a little in spite of her effort at self-control. "Tell you it isn't ... true?" echoed the other, with lifted eyebrows. "I'm afraid that I don't quite underst ..." "But you do understand, Miss Treville, why do you say that you don't? It is in the paper."
He says to you jauntily, 'Gentlemen, there is fighting going on in Gascony or in Flanders; go and fight, and you go there. Why? You need give yourselves no more uneasiness about this." "d'Artagnan is right," said Athos; "here are our three leaves of absence which came from Monsieur de Treville, and here are three hundred pistoles which came from I don't know where.
Thanks to this double gift and the spotless name that accompanied it, M. de Treville was admitted into the household of the young prince where he made such good use of his sword, and was so faithful to his motto, that Louis XIII, one of the good blades of his kingdom, was accustomed to say that if he had a friend who was about to fight, he would advise him to choose as a second, himself first, and Treville next or even, perhaps, before himself.
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