D'Artagnan went straight to the stables; day was justdawning. He found his horse and that of Porthos fastened tothe manger, but to an empty manger. He took pity on thesepoor animals and went to a corner of the stable, where hesaw a little straw, but in doing so he struck his footagainst a human body, which uttered a cry and arose on itsknees, rubbing its eyes. It was Musqueton, who, having nostraw to lie upon, had helped himself to that of the horses.

"Musqueton," cried D'Artagnan, "let us be off! Let us setoff."

Musqueton, recognizing the voice of his master's friend, gotup suddenly, and in doing so let fall some louis which hehad appropriated to himself illegally during the night.

"Ho! ho!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, picking up a louis anddisplaying it; "here's a louis that smells confoundedly ofstraw."

Musqueton blushed so confusedly that the Gascon began tolaugh at him and said:

"Porthos would be angry, my dear Monsieur Musqueton, but Ipardon you, only let us remember that this gold must serveus as a joke, so be gay - come along."

Musqueton instantly assumed a jovial countenance, saddledthe horses quickly and mounted his own without making facesover it.

Whilst this went on, Porthos arrived with a very cross lookon his face, and was astonished to find the lieutenantresigned and Musqueton almost merry.

"Ah, that's it!" he cried, "you have your promotion and I mybarony."

"We are going to fetch our brevets," said D'Artagnan, "andwhen 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 thethreatening aspect of the capital. Around a broken-downcarriage the people were uttering imprecations, whilst thepersons 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 themevery kind of civility, thinking them deserters from theroyal 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 thestrongest, after all," continued D'Artagnan, "don't befurious with old men and women, and keep your wrath for moreappropriate 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 wasPlanchet, who brought into play profitably the recollectionsof the regiment of Piedmont.

In passing before D'Artagnan he recognized his formermaster.

"Good-day, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Planchet proudly.

"Good-day, Monsieur Dulaurier," replied D'Artagnan.

Planchet stopped short, staring at D'Artagnan. The firstrow, seeing their sergeant stop, stopped in their turn, andso on to the very last.

"These citizens are dreadfully ridiculous," observedD'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 youhappen to have any money, lock it up quickly; if you happento have any jewels, hide them directly; if you happen tohave any debtors, make them pay you, or any creditors, don'tpay them."

"Why, prithee?" asked Madeleine.

"Because Paris is going to be reduced to dust and ashes likeBabylon, 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 aservice."

"Ah, me! ah, me!

"Have you any letters for me?" inquired D'Artagnan, wishingto signify to the hostess that her lamentations weresuperfluous and that therefore she had better spare himdemonstrations of her grief.

"There's one just arrived," and she handed the letter toD'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, perhapsthis may be the last time that you will ever hear from me.Aramis and I are very unhappy; but God, our courage, and theremembrance of our friendship sustain us. Think often ofRaoul. I intrust to you certain papers which are at Blois;and in two months and a half, if you do not hear of us, takepossession of them.

"Embrace, with all your heart, the vicomte, for yourdevoted, friend,

"ATHOS."

"I believe, by Heaven," said D'Artagnan, "that I shallembrace him, since he's upon our road; and if he is sounfortunate as to lose our dear Athos, from that very day hebecomes 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 MonsieurMordaunt, distrust him, in a letter I cannot say more."

"Monsieur Mordaunt!" exclaimed the Gascon, surprised.

"Monsieur Mordaunt! 'tis well," said Porthos, "we shallremember 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, knowingyour brotherly affection and that you would come and diewith us were we to reveal it."

"Confound it," interrupted Porthos, with an explosion ofpassion which sent Musqueton to the other end of the room;"are they in danger of dying?"

D'Artagnan continued:

"Athos bequeaths to you Raoul, and I bequeath to you myrevenge. If by any good luck you lay your hand on a certainman named Mordaunt, tell Porthos to take him into a cornerand to wring his neck. I dare not say more in a letter.

"ARAMIS.

"If that is all, it is easily done," said Porthos.

"On the contrary," observed D'Artagnan, with a vexed look;"it would be impossible."

"How so?"

"It is precisely this Monsieur Mordaunt whom we are going tojoin at Boulogne and with whom we cross to England."

"Well, suppose instead of joining this Monsieur Mordaunt wewere to go and join our friends?" said Porthos, with agesture fierce enough to have frightened an army.

"I did think of it, but this letter has neither date norpostmark."

"True," said Porthos. And he began to wander about the roomlike a man beside himself, gesticulating and half drawinghis sword out of the scabbard.

As to D'Artagnan, he remained standing like a man inconsternation, with the deepest affliction depicted on hisface.

"Ah, this is not right; Athos insults us; he wishes to diealone; it is bad, bad, bad."

Musqueton, witnessing this despair, melted into tears in acorner of the room.

"Come," said D'Artagnan, "all this leads to nothing. Let usgo on. We will embrace Raoul, and perhaps he will have newsof Athos."

"Stop - an idea!" cried Porthos; "indeed, my dearD'Artagnan, I don't know how you manage, but you are alwaysfull of ideas; let us go and embrace Raoul."

"Woe to that man who should happen to contradict my masterat this moment," said Musqueton to himself; "I wouldn't givea farthing for his life."

They set out. On arriving at the Rue Saint Denis, thefriends found a vast concourse of people. It was the Duc deBeaufort, who was coming from the Vendomois and whom thecoadjutor was showing to the Parisians, intoxicated withjoy. With the duke's aid they already considered themselvesinvincible.

The two friends turned off into a side street to avoidmeeting the prince, and so reached the Saint Denis gate.

"Is it true," said the guard to the two cavaliers, "that theDuc de Beaufort has arrived in Paris?"

"Nothing more certain; and the best proof of it is," saidD'Artagnan, "that he has dispatched us to meet the Duc deVendome, his father, who is coming in his turn."

"Long live De Beaufort!" cried the guards, and they drewback respectfully to let the two friends pass. Once acrossthe barriers these two knew neither fatigue nor fear. Theirhorses flew, and they never ceased speaking of Athos andAramis.

The camp had entered Saint Omer; the friends made a littledetour and went to the camp, and gave the army an exactaccount of the flight of the king and queen. They foundRaoul near his tent, reclining on a truss of hay, of whichhis horse stole some mouthfuls; the young man's eyes werered and he seemed dejected. The Marechal de Grammont and theComte de Guiche had returned to Paris and he was quitelonely. And as soon as he saw the two cavaliers he ran tothem with open arms.

"Oh, is it you, dear friends? Did you come here to fetch me?Will you take me away with you? Do you bring me tidings ofmy guardian?"

"Have you not received any?" said D'Artagnan to the youth.

"Alas! sir, no, and I do not know what has become of him; sothat I am really so unhappy that I weep."

In fact, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Porthos turned aside, in order not to show by his honestround face what was passing in his mind.

"Deuce take it!" cried D'Artagnan, more moved than he hadbeen for a long time, "don't despair, my friend, if you havenot received any letters from the count, we have receivedone."

"Oh, really!" cried Raoul.

"And a comforting one, too," added D'Artagnan, seeing thedelight that his intelligence gave the young man.

"Have you it?" asked Raoul

"Yes - that is, I had it," repined the Gascon, makingbelieve to find it. "Wait, it ought to be there in mypocket; it speaks of his return, does it not, Porthos?"

All Gascon as he was, D'Artagnan could not bear alone theweight of that falsehood.

"Yes," replied Porthos, coughing.

"Eh, give it to me!" said the young man.

"Eh! I read it a little while since. Can I have lost it? Ah!confound it! yes, my pocket has a hole in it."

"Oh, yes, Monsieur Raoul!" said Musqueton, "the letter wasvery consoling. These gentlemen read it to me and I wept forjoy."

"But at any rate, you know where he is, Monsieurd'Artagnan?" asked Raoul, somewhat comforted.

"Ah! that's the thing!" replied the Gascon. "Undoubtedly Iknow it, but it is a mystery."

"Not to me, I hope?"

"No, not to you, so I am going to tell you where he is."

Porthos devoured D'Artagnan with wondering eyes.

"Where the devil shall I say that he is, so that he cannottry to rejoin him?" thought D'Artagnan.

"Well, where is he, sir?" asked Raoul, in a soft and coaxingvoice.

"He is at Constantinople."

"Among the Turks!" exclaimed Raoul, alarmed. "Good heavens!how can you tell me that?"

"Does that alarm you?" cried D'Artagnan. "Pooh! what are theTurks to such men as the Comte de la Fere and the Abbed'Herblay?"

"Ah, his friend is with him?" said Raoul. "That comforts mea little."

"Has he wit or not - this demon D'Artagnan?" said Porthos,astonished at his friend's deception.

"Now, sir," said D'Artagnan, wishing to change theconversation, "here are fifty pistoles that the count hassent you by the same courier. I suppose you have no moremoney and that they will be welcome."

"I have still twenty pistoles, sir."

"Well, take them; that makes seventy."

"And if you wish for more," said Porthos, putting his handto his pocket - -

"Thank you, sir," replied Raoul, blushing; "thank you athousand times."

At this moment Olivain appeared. "Apropos," said D'Artagnan,loud enough for the servant to hear him, "are you satisfiedwith Olivain?"

"Yes, in some respects, tolerably well."

Olivain pretended to have heard nothing and entered thetent.

"What fault do you find with the fellow?"

"He is a glutton."

"Oh, sir!" cried Olivain, reappearing at this accusation.

"And a little bit of a thief."

"Oh, sir! oh!"

"And, more especially, a notorious coward."

"Oh, oh! sir! you really vilify me!" cried Olivain.

"The deuce!" cried D'Artagnan. "Pray learn, MonsieurOlivain, that people like us are not to be served bycowards. Rob your master, eat his sweetmeats, and drink hiswine; but, by Jove! don't be a coward, or I shall cut offyour ears. Look at Monsieur Mouston, see the honorablewounds he has received, observe how his habitual valor hasgiven dignity to his countenance."

Musqueton was in the third heaven and would have embracedD'Artagnan had he dared; meanwhile he resolved to sacrificehis life for him on the next occasion that presented itself.

"Send away that fellow, Raoul," said the Gascon; "for ifhe's a coward he will disgrace thee some day."

"Monsieur says I am coward," cried Olivain, "because hewanted the other day to fight a cornet in Grammont'sregiment and I refused to accompany him."

"Monsieur Olivain, a lackey ought never to disobey," saidD'Artagnan, sternly; then taking him aside, he whispered tohim: "Thou hast done right; thy master was in the wrong;here's a crown for thee, but should he ever be insulted andthou cost not let thyself be cut in quarters for him, I willcut out thy tongue. Remember that."

Olivain bowed and slipped the crown into his pocket.

"And now, Raoul," said the Gascon, "Monsieur du Vallon and Iare going away as ambassadors, where, I know not; but shouldyou want anything, write to Madame Turquaine, at LaChevrette, Rue Tiquetonne and draw upon her purse as on abanker - with economy; for it is not so well filled as thatof Monsieur d'Emery."

And having, meantime, embraced his ward, he passed him intothe robust arms of Porthos, who lifted him up from theground and held him a moment suspended near the noble heartof the formidable giant.

"Come," said D'Artagnan, "let us go."

And they set out for Boulogne, where toward evening theyarrived, their horses flecked with foam and dark withperspiration.

At ten steps from the place where they halted was a youngman in black, who seemed waiting for some one, and who, fromthe moment he saw them enter the town, never took his eyesoff them.

D'Artagnan approached him, and seeing him stare so fixedly,said:

"Well, friend! I don't like people to quiz me!"

"Sir," said the young man, "do you not come from Paris, ifyou please?"

D'Artagnan thought it was some gossip who wanted news fromthe capital.

"Yes, sir," he said, in a softened tone.

"Are you not going to put up at the `Arms of England'?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you not charged with a mission from his eminence,Cardinal Mazarin?"

"Yes, sir."

"In that case, I am the man you have to do with. I am M.Mordaunt."

"Ah!" thought D'Artagnan, "the man I am warned against byAthos."

"Ah!" thought Porthos, "the man Aramis wants me tostrangle."

They both looked searchingly at the young man, whomisunderstood the meaning of that inquisition.

"Do you doubt my word?" he said. "In that case I can giveyou proofs."

"No, sir," said D'Artagnan; "and we place ourselves at yourorders."

"Well, gentlemen," resumed Mordaunt, "we must set outwithout delay, to-day is the last day granted me by thecardinal. My ship is ready, and had you not come I must haveset off without you, for General Cromwell expects my returnimpatiently."

"So!" thought the lieutenant, "'tis to General Cromwell thatour dispatches are addressed."

"Have you no letter for him?" asked the young man.

"I have one, the seal of which I am not to break till Ireach London; but since you tell me to whom it is addressed,'tis useless to wait till then."

D'Artagnan tore open the envelope of the letter. It wasdirected to "Monsieur Oliver Cromwell, General of the Armyof the English Nation."

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan; "a singular commission."

"Who is this Monsieur Oliver Cromwell?" inquired Porthos.

"Formerly a brewer," replied the Gascon.

"Perhaps Mazarin wishes to make a speculation in beer, as wedid in straw," said Porthos.

"Come, come, gentlemen," said Mordaunt, impatiently, "let usdepart."

"What!" exclaimed Porthos "without supper? Cannot MonsieurCromwell wait a little?"

"Yes, but I?" said Mordaunt.

"Well, you," said Porthos, "what then?"

"I cannot wait."

"Oh! as to you, that is not my concern, and I shall supeither with or without your permission."

The young man's eyes kindled in secret, but he restrainedhimself.

"Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "you must excuse famishedtravelers. Besides, our supper can't delay you much. We willhasten on to the inn; you will meanwhile proceed on foot tothe harbor. We will take a bite and shall be there as soonas you are."

"Just as you please, gentlemen, provided we set sail," hesaid.

"The name of your ship?" inquired D'Artagnan.

"The Standard."

"Very well; in half an hour we shall be on board."

And the friends, spurring on their horses, rode to thehotel, the "Arms of England."

"What do you say of that young man?" asked D'Artagnan, asthey hurried along.

"I say that he doesn't suit me at all," said Porthos, "andthat I feel a strong itching to follow Aramis's advice."

"By no means, my dear Porthos; that man is a messenger ofGeneral Cromwell; it would insure for us a poor reception, Iimagine, should it be announced to him that we had twistedthe neck of his confidant."

"Nevertheless," said Porthos, "I have always noticed thatAramis gives good advice."

"Listen," returned D'Artagnan, "when our embassy is finished- - "

"Well?"

"If it brings us back to France - - "

"Well?"

"Well, we shall see."

At that moment the two friends reached the hotel, "Arms ofEngland," where they supped with hearty appetite and then atonce proceeded to the port.

There they found a brig ready to set sail, upon the deck ofwhich they recognized Mordaunt walking up and downimpatiently.

"It is singular," said D'Artagnan, whilst the boat wastaking them to the Standard, "it is astonishing how thatyoung man resembles some one I must have known, but who itwas I cannot yet remember."

A few minutes later they were on board, but the embarkationof the horses was a longer matter than that of the men, andit was eight o'clock before they raised anchor.

The young man stamped impatiently and ordered all sail to bespread.

Porthos, completely used up by three nights without sleepand a journey of seventy leagues on horseback, retired tohis cabin and went to sleep.

D'Artagnan, overcoming his repugnance to Mordaunt, walkedwith him upon the deck and invented a hundred stories tomake him talk.

Musqueton was seasick.