“I have just placed an embargo on all vessels at present in his Majesty’s ports， and without special permission not one will dare raise an anchor.”
D’Artagnan was astonished to see by what fragile and unknown threads the destinies of a nation and the lives of men are sometimes suspended.
He was lost in these reflections when the goldsmith entered. He was an Irishman， one of the most skilful of his craft， and who himself confessed that he gained a hundred thousand pounds a year by the Duke of Buckingham.
“Master O’Reilly，” said the Duke to him， leading him into the chapel， “look at these diamond studs， and tell me what they are worth apiece.”
The goldsmith cast a glance at the elegant manner in which they were set， calculated， one with another， what the diamonds were worth， and without hesitation，“Fifteen hundred pistoles each， your Grace，” replied he.
“How many days would it require to make two studs exactly like them？ You see there are two wanting.”
“A week， your Grace.”
“I will give you three thousand pistoles each if I can have them by the day after to-morrow.”
“Your Grace， you shall have them.”
An hour later the ordinance was published in London that no vessel bound for France should leave the ports—not even the packet-boat with letters. In the eyes of everybody this was a declaration of war between the two kingdoms.
On the day after the next， by eleven o’clock， the two diamond studs were finished； and they were such exact imitations， so perfectly like the others， that Buckingham could not tell the new ones from the old ones， and the most practised in such matters would have been deceived as he was.
He immediately called D’Artagnan.
“Here，” said he to him， “are the diamond studs that you came to fetch； and be my witness that I have done all that human power could do.”
“Rest assured， milord； I will tell what I have seen. But does your Grace mean to give me the studs without the casket？”
“The casket would only encumber you. Besides， the casket is the more precious from being all that is left to me. You will say that I keep it.”
“I will perform your commission word for word， milord.”
“And now，” resumed Buckingham， looking earnestly at the young man， “how shall I ever acquit myself towards you？”
“Let us understand each other， milord，” replied D’Artagnan， “and let us weigh things well beforehand， in order that there may be no mistake. I am in the service of the king and queen of France， and form part of the company of M. des Essarts’s guards， who， as well as his brother-in-law， M. de Tréville， is particularly attached to their Majesties. And， besides， it is very probable I should not have done anything of all this if it had not been to make myself agreeable to some one who is my lady， as the queen is yours.”
“I understand，” said the duke， smiling， “and I even believe that I know that other person. It is—”
“Milord， I have not named her！” interrupted the young man quickly.
“That is true，” said the duke. “It is， then， to this person I am bound to discharge my debt of gratitude for your service. Go to the port， ask for the brig Le Sund， and give this letter to the captain. He will convey you to a little port where certainly no one is on the watch for you， and where only fishing-smacks ordinarily run in.”
D’Artagnan bowed to the duke， and quickly made his way to the port opposite the Tower of London. He found the vessel that had been named to him， delivered his letter to the captain， who， after having it signed by the warden of the port， set sail at once.
Fifty vessels were waiting ready to sail.
As he was passing alongside of one of them D’Artagnan fancied he perceived on board the lady of Meung， the same whom the unknown gentleman had styled milady， and whom D’Artagnan had thought so handsome. But， thanks to the current of the river and a fair wind， his vessel passed so quickly that he lost sight of her in a moment.
The next day， about five o’clock in the morning， he landed at St. Valery. Four hours later he was in Neufchatel. At Pontoise he changed his horse for the last time， and at nine o’clock galloped into the court of M. de Tréville’s h？tel. He had covered nearly sixty leagues in twelve hours.
M. de Tréville received him as if he had seen him that same morning； only， when pressing his hand a little more warmly than usual， he informing him that M. des Essarts’s company was on duty at the Louvre， and that he might repair to his post.
