“Gentlemen,” said he, “we have been here an hour, and our wager is won; but we will be fair players. Besides, D’Artagnan has not told us his idea yet.”
And the musketeer, with his usual coolness, went and sat down again before the remains of the breakfast.
“My idea?” said D’Artagnan.
“Yes; you said you had an idea,” said Athos.
“Oh, I remember now,” said D’Artagnan. “Well, I will go to England again; I will go and find Buckingham.”
“You shall not do that, D’Artagnan,” said Athos coolly.“
And why not? Have I not been there once?”
“Yes; but at that period we were not at war. At that period Buckingham was an ally, and not an enemy. What you now contemplate doing would amount to treason.”
D’Artagnan perceived the force of this reasoning, and was silent.
“Let us have your idea, Aramis,” said Athos, who entertained great deference for the young musketeer.
“We must inform the queen.”
“Ah, ’pon my word, yes,” said Porthos and D’Artagnan at the same time. “I think we are getting at the proper means.”
“Inform the queen!” said Athos. “And how? Have we any friends at court? Can we send any one to Paris without its being known in the camp? It is a hundred and forty leagues from here to Paris; before our letter reached Angers we should be in a dungeon.”
“As to sending a letter safely to her Majesty,” said Aramis, “I will take that on myself. I know a clever person at Tours—”
Aramis stopped on seeing Athos smile.
“Well, do you not adopt this means, Athos?” asked D’Artagnan.
“I do not reject it altogether,” said Athos, “but I wish to remind Aramis that he cannot quit the camp, and that no one but one of us can be trusted; that two hours after the messenger has set out, all the capuchins, all the alguazils, all the black caps of the cardinal, will know your letter by heart, and you and your clever person will be arrested. Allow me to give Grimaud some indispensable orders.”
Athos made a sign for his lackey to draw near.
“Grimaud,” said Athos, pointing to the bodies which lay in the bastion, “take those gentlemen, set them up against the wall, put their hats on their heads, and their guns in their hands.”
“Oh, great man!” cried D’Artagnan, “I understand now.”
“This milady—this woman—this creature—this demon has a brother-in-law, as I think you have told me, D’Artagnan?”
“Yes, I know him very well; and I also believe that he has not a very warm affection for his sister-in-law.”
“There is no harm in that; if he detested her, it would be all the better,” replied Athos.
“In that case, we are as well off as we could wish.”
“What is her brother-in-law’s name?”
“Lord Winter.”
“Where is he now?”
“He returned to London at the first rumour of war.”
“Well, he’s just the man we want,” said Athos; “we must warn him. We will send him word that his sister-in-law is on the point of assassinating some one, and we will beg of him not to lose sight of her. There is in London, I hope, some establishment like that of the Magdalens, or of the Repentant Women. He will place his sister in one of these, and we are in peace.”
“But I think it would be still better,” said Aramis, “to inform the queen and Lord Winter at the same time.”
“Yes; but who is to carry the letter to Tours, and who the letter to London?”
“I answer for Bazin,” said Aramis.
“And I for Planchet,” said D’Artagnan.
“That is so,” said Porthos; “if we cannot leave the camp, our lackeys may.”
“To be sure they may,” said Aramis; “and this very day we write the letters, we give them money, and they set out.”
“We will give them money?” replied Athos. “Have you any money, then?”
The four friends looked at one another, and a cloud came over the brows which had been for an instant so cheerful.
“Quick!” cried D’Artagnan; “I see black points and red points moving yonder. It is a whole army!”
“’Pon my word,” said Athos; “yes, there they are. Do you see the sneaks coming without drums or trumpets?—Ah! have you finished, Grimaud?”
Grimaud made a sign in the affirmative, and pointed to a dozen bodies which he had set up in the most picturesque attitudes—some carrying arms, others seeming to aim, and the rest sword in hand.
“Bravo!” said Athos; “that does honour to your imagination.”
“Very good,” said Porthos. “I should like, however, to understand.”
“Let us get away first,” said D’Artagnan; “and you can understand afterwards.”
“Faith!” said Athos, “I have nothing more to say against a retreat. Our wager called for an hour: we have stayed an hour and a half. Nothing can be said; let us be off, gentlemen, let us be off!”
Grimaud had already gone on with the basket and the dessert. The four friends followed.
An instant later a furious firing was heard.
“What’s that?” asked Porthos; “what are they firing at now? I hear no balls, and I see no one!”
“They are firing on our dead men,” replied Athos.
“But our dead men will not return their fire.”
