Title:       Three Musketeers
Author:      Dumas, Alexandre
Date:        1844

Chapter XXVIII

The Return

     D'Artagnan was astounded by the terrible confidence of Athos; and yet
many things appeared very obscure to him in this partial revelation; in the
first place, it had been made by a man quite drunk, to one who was half
drunk, and yet, in spite of the uncertainty which the vapor of three or four
bottles of Burgundy carried with it to the brain, D'Artagnan, when awaking
on the following morning, had every word of Athos as present to his memory
as if they fell from his mouth; they had been impressed upon his mind.  All
this doubt only gave rise to a more lively desire of arriving at a certainty,
and he went into his friend's chamber with a fixed determination of renewing
the conversation of the preceding evening; but he found Athos quite himself
again, that is to say, the most shrewd and impenetrable of men.  Besides
which the musketeer, after having exchanged a hearty shake of the hand with
him, broached the matter first.

     "I was pretty drunk yesterday, D'Artagnan," said he, "I can tell that
by my tongue, which was swollen and hot this morning, and by my pulse, which
was very tremulous; I would lay a wager I uttered a thousand absurdities."

     And while saying this he looked at his friend with an earnestness that
embarrassed him.

     "No," replied D'Artagnan, "if I recollect what you said, it was nothing
out of the common way."

     "Indeed!  you surprise me, I thought I had related a most lamentable
history to you?" And he looked at the young man as if he would read to the
very depths of his heart.

     "Ma foi!" said D'Artagnan, "it would appear that I was more drunk than
you, since I remember nothing of the kind."

     But this did not deceive Athos, and he resumed:

     "You cannot have failed to remark, my dear friend, that every one has
his particular kind of drunkenness, sad or gay; my drunkenness is always sad,
and when I am thoroughly intoxicated my mania is to relate all the dismal
histories which my foolish nurse infused into my brain.  That is my failing,
a capital failing, I admit; but, with that exception, I am a good drinker."

     Athos spoke this in so natural a manner, that D'Artagnan was shaken in
his conviction.

     "Oh, it is that, then," replied the young man, anxious to find out the
truth, "it is that, then, I remember, as we remember a dream - we were
speaking of hanging people."

     "Ah!  you see how it is," said Athos, becoming still paler, but yet
attempting to laugh, "I was sure it was so - the hanging of people is my
nightmare."

     "Yes, yes," replied D'Artagnan, "I remember now; yes, it was about -
stop a minute - yes, it was about a woman."

     "That's it," replied Athos, becoming almost livid, "that is my grand
history of the fair lady, and when I relate that, I must be drunk indeed."

     "Yes, that was it," said D'Artagnan, "the history of a tall, fair lady,
with blue eyes."

     "Yes, who was hanged."

     "By her husband, who was a nobleman of your acquaintance," continued
D'Artagnan, looking intently at Athos.

     "Well, you see how a man may compromise himself when he does not know
what he says," replied Athos, shrugging his shoulders as if he thought
himself an object of pity.  "I certainly never will get drunk again
D'Artagnan - it is too bad a habit."

     D'Artagnan remained silent.

     Then Athos, changing the conversation all at once:

     "By-the-by, I thank you for the horse you have brought me," said he.

     "Is it to your mind?" asked D'Artagnan.

     "Yes; but it is not a horse for hard work."

     "You are mistaken; I have ridden him nearly ten leagues in less than an
hour and a half, and he appeared no more distressed than if he had only made
the tour of the Place Saint Sulpice."^5

[Footnote 5: I endeavor to translate as faithfully as is consistent with
spirit, therefore beg the reader to hold me responsible for such wonders as
this; as a pretty good English horseman, I must confess I never met with such
a horse: all these circumstances are exaggerated - Trans.]

     "Ah, ah!  you begin to awaken my regret."

     "Regret?"

     "Yes; I have parted with him."

     "How?"

     "Why, here is the simple fact: this morning I awoke at six o'clock: you
were still fast asleep, and I did not know what to do with myself; I was
still stupid from our yesterday's debauch.  As I came into the public room,
I saw one of our Englishmen bargaining with a dealer for a horse, his own
having died yesterday from bleeding.  I drew near, and found he was bidding
a hundred pistoles for a fine chestnut nag.  'Pardieu!' said I; 'my good
gentleman, I have a horse to sell, too.'

     "'Ay, and a very fine one!  I saw him yesterday - your friend's lackey
was leading him.'

     "'Do you think he is worth a hundred pistoles?'

     "'Yes; will you sell him to me for that sum?'

     "'No; but I will play with you for him.'

     "'You will play with me?'

     "'Yes.'

     "'At what?'

     "'At dice.'

     "No sooner said than done, and I lost the horse.  Ah, ah!  but please
to observe I won back the caparison," cried Athos.

     D'Artagnan looked much disconcerted.

     "This vexes you?" said Athos.

     "Well, I must confess it does," replied D'Artagnan.  'That horse was to
have assisted in making us known in the day of battle.  It was a pledge - a
remembrance.  Athos, you have done very wrong."

     "But, my dear friend, put yourself in my place," replied the musketeer.
"I was hipped to death: and still further, upon my honor, I don't like
English horses.  If all the consequence is to be recognized, why the saddle
will suffice for that; it is quite remarkable enough.  As to the horse, we
can easily find some excuse for its disappearance.  What the devil!  a horse
is mortal; suppose mine had had the glanders, or the farcy?"

     D'Artagnan could not smile.

     "It vexes me greatly," continued Athos, "that you attach so much
importance to these animals, for I am not yet at the end of my story."

     "What else have you done?"

     "After having lost my own horse, nine against ten - see how near! - I
formed an idea of staking yours."

     "Yes - but you stopped at the idea, I hope?"

     "No; for I put it in execution that very minute."

     "And the consequence?" said D'Artagnan, in great anxiety.

     "I threw, and I lost."

     "What, my horse?"

     "Your horse; seven against eight; a point short - you know the proverb."

     "Athos, you are not in your right senses - I swear you are not."

     "My dear lad, it was yesterday, when I was telling you silly stories,
that you ought to have told me that, and not this morning.  I lost him, then,
with all his appointments and furniture."

     "Really, this is frightful!"

     "Stop a minute; you don't know all yet.  I should make an excellent
gambler if I were not too hot-headed; but I became so, just as if I were
drinking; well, I was hot-headed then - "

     "Well, but what else could you play for - you had nothing left?"

     "Oh!  yes, yes, my friend; there was still that diamond left which
sparkles on your finger, and which I had observed yesterday."

     "This diamond;" said D'Artagnan, placing his hand eagerly on his ring.

     "And as I am a connoisseur in such things, having had a few of my own
once, I estimated it at a thousand pistoles."

     "I hope," said D'Artagnan, half dead with fright, "you made no mention
of my diamond?"

     "On the contrary, my dear friend, this diamond became our only resource;
with it I might regain our horses and their furniture, and, still further,
money to pay our expenses on the road."

     "Athos, you make me tremble!" cried D'Artagnan.

     "I mentioned your diamond then to my adversary, who had likewise
remarked it.  What the devil!  do you think you can wear a star from heaven
on your finger and nobody observe it?  Impossible!"

     "Oh!  go on, go on!" said D'Artagnan, "for upon my honor, you will kill
me with your careless coolness."

     "We divided, then, this diamond into ten parts, of a hundred pistoles
each."

     "You are laughing at me, and want to try me!" said D'Artagnan, whom
anger began to take by the hair, as Minerva takes Achilles, in the "Iliad."

     "No, I am not joking, mordieu!  I should like to have seen you in my
place!  I had been fifteen days without seeing a human face, and had been
left to brutalize myself with the company of nothing but bottles."

     "That was no reason for staking my diamond!" replied D'Artagnan, closing
his hand with a nervous spasm.

     "But hear the end.  Ten throws of a hundred pistoles each - ten throws,
without revenge; in thirteen throws I lost all - in thirteen throws.  The
number thirteen was always fatal to me; it was on the 13th of the month of
July that - "

     "Ventrebleu!" cried D'Artagnan, rising from the table, the history of
the present day making him forget that of the preceding one.

     "Patience, patience!" said Athos; "I had a plan.  The Englishman was an
original; I had seen him conversing that morning with Grimaud, and Grimaud
had told me that he had made him proposals to enter into his service.  I
staked Grimaud - the silent Grimaud - divided into ten portions."

     "Well, what next?" said D'Artagnan, laughing in spite of himself.

     "Grimaud himself, understand!  and with the ten parts of Grimaud, which
are not worth a ducatoon, I won back the diamond.  Tell me, now, whether you
don't think persistence is a virtue?"

     "Ma foi!  but this a droll story," cried D'Artagnan, a little consoled,
and holding his sides with laughter.

     "You may easily guess, that finding the luck turned, I again staked the
diamond."

     "The devil!" said D'Artagnan, becoming again angry.

     "I won back your furniture, then your horse, then my furniture, then my
horse, and then I lost again.  To make short, I regained your furniture and
then mine.  That's where we left off.  That was a superb throw, so I left off
there."

     D'Artagnan breathed as if the whole hostelry had been removed from off
his chest.

     "Then I understand," said he timidly, "the diamond is safe?"

     "Intact, my dear friend; plus the furniture of your Bucephalus and
mine."

     "But what is the use of horse-furniture without horses?"

     "I have an idea concerning them."

     "Athos, you keep me in a fever."

     "Listen to me.  You have not played for a long time, D'Artagnan."

     "Neither have I any inclination to play."

     "Swear to nothing.  You have not played for a long time, I said; you
ought, then, to have a good hand."

     "Well, what then?"

     "Well!  the Englishman and his companion are still here.  I remarked
that he regretted the horse-furniture very much.  You appear to think much
of your horse.  In your place, now, I would stake the furniture against the
horse."

     "But he will not be satisfied with one equipment."

     "Stake both, pardieu!  I am not selfish, if you are."

     "You would do so?" said D'Artagnan, undecided, so strongly did the
confidence of Athos begin to prevail, unknown to himself.

     "Parole d'honneur, in one single throw."

     "But having lost the horses, I am particularly anxious to preserve the
furniture."

     "Stake your diamond, then!"

     "This!  No, thank you!  that's quite another thing.  Never!  never!"

     "The devil!" said Athos.  "I would propose to you to stake Planchet, but
as that has already been done, the Englishman would not, perhaps, be
willing."

     "Decidedly, my dear Athos, I should like better not to risk anything."

     "That's a pity," said Athos coolly; "the Englishman is overflowing with
pistoles.  Good Lord!  try one throw; one throw is soon thrown."

     "And if I lose?"

     "You will win, I tell you."

     "But if I lose?"

     "Well, you will surrender the furniture."

     "I will try one throw," said D'Artagnan.

     Athos went in search of the Englishman, whom he found in the stable,
examining the furniture with a greedy eye.  The opportunity was good.  He
proposed the conditions - the two furnitures against one horse, or a hundred
pistoles, to choose.  The Englishman calculated fast: the two furnitures were
worth three hundred pistoles to them: he consented.

     D'Artagnan threw the dice with a trembling hand, and turned up the
number three; his paleness terrified Athos, who, however, contented himself
with saying:

     "That's a sad throw, comrade; you will have the horses fully equipped,
monsieur."

     The Englishman, quite triumphant, did not even give himself the trouble
to shake the dice; he threw them on the table without looking at them, so
sure was he of victory; D'Artagnan himself had turned on one side to conceal
his ill-humor.

     "There!  there!  there!" said Athos, with his quiet tone; "that throw
of the dice is extraordinary.  I have only witnessed such a one four times
in my life.  Two aces, gentlemen!"

     The Englishman looked, and was seized with astonishment; D'Artagnan
looked, and was seized with pleasure.

     "Yes," continued Athos, "four times only; once at the house of M.
Crequy; another time at my own house in the country, in my chateau at - ,
when I had a chateau; a third time at M. de Treville's, where it surprised
us all; and the fourth time at a cabaret, where it fell to my lot, and where
I lost a hundred louis and a supper on it."

     "Then monsieur takes his horse back again," said the Englishman.

     "Certainly," said D'Artagnan.

     "Then there is no revenge?"

     "Our conditions said no revenge, you will please to recollect."

     "That is true; the horse shall be restored to your lackey, monsieur."

     "A moment!" said Athos; "with your permission, monsieur, I wish to speak
a word with my friend."

     "If you please."

     Athos drew D'Artagnan on one side.

     "Well, tempter!  what more do you want with me?" said D'Artagnan; "you
want me to throw again, do you not?"

     "No; I would wish you to reflect a little before you decide."

     "Upon what?"

     "You mean to take your horse, do you not?"

     "Without doubt, I do."

     "You are wrong, then.  I would take the hundred pistoles; you know you
have staked the furniture against the horse or a hundred pistoles, at your
choice."

     "Yes."

     "Well, then, I would take the hundred pistoles."

     "And I will take the horse."

     "In which, I repeat, you are wrong.  What is the use of one horse, for
us two?  I could not get up behind: we should look like the two sons of
Amyon, who have lost their brother.  You cannot think of humiliating me by
riding by my side, prancing along upon that magnificent charger.  For my
part, I should not hesitate a moment, but take the hundred pistoles.  We want
money to carry us back to Paris."

     "I am much attached to that horse, Athos."

     "And there, again, you are wrong; a horse slips and injures a joint, a
horse stumbles and breaks his knees to the bone, a horse eats out of a manger
in which a glandered horse has eaten; there is a horse, or rather a hundred
pistoles, lost: a master must feed his horse, while, on the contrary, the
hundred pistoles feed their master."

     "But how shall we get back to Paris?"

     "Upon our lackeys' horses, pardieu!  Never think of our steeds; anybody
may see by our carriage that we are people of condition."

     "Very pretty figures we shall cut upon ponies, while Aramis and Porthos
will be caracoling upon their war steeds!"

     "Aramis and Porthos!" cried Athos, and laughed more loudly than was his
custom.

     "What are you laughing at?" asked D'Artagnan, who did not at all
comprehend the hilarity of his friend.

     "Never mind - do one thing or the other," said Athos.

     "Your advice then is - "

     "To take the hundred pistoles, D'Artagnan; with the hundred pistoles we
can live well to the end of the month: we have undergone a great deal of
fatigue, remember, and a little rest will do us no harm."

     "I rest!  oh, no, Athos, the moment I am in Paris, I shall prosecute my
researches after that unfortunate woman.

     "Well, you may be assured that your horse will not be half so
serviceable to you for that purpose as the good louis d'or; take the hundred
pistoles, my friend, take the hundred pistoles!"

     D'Artagnan only required one reason, to be satisfied.  This last reason
appeared convincing.  Besides, he feared that by resisting longer he should
appear selfish in the eyes of Athos: he acquiesced, then, and chose the
hundred pistoles, which the Englishman paid down immediately.

     They then determined to depart.  Peace with the landlord, in addition
to Athos' old horse, cost six pistoles; D'Artagnan and Athos took the nags
of Planchet and Grimaud, and the two lackeys started on foot, carrying the
saddles on their heads.

     However ill our two friends were mounted, they soon got far in advance
of their servants, and arrived at Crevecoeur.  From a distance they perceived
Aramis, seated in a melancholy manner at his window, looking out, like Sister
Anne, at the dust in the horizon.

     "Holo!  ha!  Aramis!  what the devil are you doing there!" cried they.

     "Ah!  is that you, D'Artagnan, and you, Athos?" said the young man.  "I
was reflecting upon the rapidity with which the blessings of this world leave
us, and my English horse, which has just disappeared amid a cloud of dust,
has furnished me with a living image of the fragility of things of the earth.
Life itself may be resolved into three words: Erat, est, fuit."

     "Which means - " said D'Artagnan, who began to suspect the truth.

     "Which means, that I have just been duped; sixty louis for a horse,
which, by the manner in which he goes, can do at least five leagues an hour."

     D'Artagnan and Athos burst into a loud laugh.

     "My dear D'Artagnan," said Aramis, "don't be too angry with me, I beg
of you, necessity has no law; besides, I am the person punished, as that
rascally horse-dealer has robbed me of fifty pistoles at least.  Ah!  you
fellows are good managers!  you ride on your lackeys' horses, and have your
own gallant steeds led along carefully by hand, at short stages."

     At the same instant a market-cart, which had for some minutes appeared
upon the Amiens road, pulled up at the auberge, and Planchet and Grimaud got
out of it with the saddles on their heads.  The carter was going to Paris,
and had agreed, on condition of being prevented from feeling thirst upon the
road, to convey the lackeys and their burdens thither.

     "How is all this?" said Aramis, on seeing them arrive - "nothing but
saddles?"

     "Now, do you understand?" said Athos.

     "Oh, yes!  all alike.  I retained my furniture by instinct.  Hola!
Bazin!  bring my new saddle, and carry it with those of these gentlemen."

     "And what have you done with your cures?" asked D'Artagnan.

     "Why, I invited them to a dinner the next day," replied Aramis; "they
have some capital wine here; please to observe that in passing, I did my best
to make them drunk; then the cure forbade me to quit my uniform, and the
Jesuit entreated me to get him made a musketeer."

     "Without a thesis!" cried D'Artagnan, "without a thesis!  for my part,
I request the thesis may be suppressed!"

     "From that time," continued Aramis, "I have lived very agreeably.  I
have begun a poem in verse of one syllable!  that is rather difficult, but
the merit in all things consists in the difficulty.  The matter is tasty.
I will read the first canto to you; it has four hundred verses, and lasts a
minute."

     "Ma foi!  my dear Aramis!" said D'Artagnan, who detested verses almost
as much as he did Latin; "add to the merit of the difficulty that of the
brevity, and you are sure that your poem will at least have two merits."

     "Ah; but you will see," continued Aramis, "that it breathes
irreproachable passion.  And so, my friends, we are returning to Paris?
Bravo!  I am ready, we are going to rejoin that good fellow, Porthos!  so
much the better.  You can't think how I have missed him, the great simpleton.
He would not sell his horse, not for a kingdom; I think I can see him now,
mounted upon his superb animal and seated in his handsome saddle, looking
like the Great Mogul!"

     They made a halt for an hour, to refresh their horses: Aramis discharged
his bill, placed Bazin in the cart with his comrades, and they set forward
to join Porthos.

     They found him up, less pale than when D'Artagnan left him, and seated
at a table, on which, though he was alone, was spread enough for four
persons; this dinner consisted of viands nicely dressed, choice wines, and
superb fruit.

     "Ah!  pardieu!" said he, rising, "you come in the nick of time;
gentlemen, I was just beginning the potage, and you will dine with me."

     "Oh, oh!" said D'Artagnan, "these bottles are not the fruits of
Mousqueton's lasso!  besides, here is a fricandeau pique, and a filet de
boeuf!"

     "I am recruiting myself," said Porthos, "I am recruiting myself; nothing
weakens a man more than these cursed strains.  Did you ever suffer from a
strain, Athos?"

     "Never! - only I remember that in our affair of the Rue Ferou, I
received a sword-wound, which at the end of fifteen or eighteen days produced
exactly the same effect."

     "But this dinner was not intended for you alone, Porthos?" said Aramis.

     "No," said Porthos.  "I expected some gentlemen of the neighborhood, who
have just sent me word they could not come; you will take their places, and
I shall not lose by the exchange.  Holo, Mousqueton!  seats, and order the
number of bottles to be doubled."

     "Do you know what we are eating here?" said Athos, at the expiration of
about ten minutes.

     "Pardieu!" replied D'Artagnan, "for my part I am eating veau pique aux
cardons and a la moelle."

     "And I some filets d'agneau," said Porthos.

     "And I a blanc de volaille," said Aramis.

     "You are all mistaken, gentlemen," answered Athos, with a serious
countenance; "you are all eating horse-flesh."

     "Eating what?" said D'Artagnan.

     "Horse-flesh!" said Aramis, with a look of disgust.

     Porthos alone made no reply.

     "Yes, real horse; are we not, Porthos, eating a horse - and perhaps his
saddle."

     "No, no, gentlemen, I have kept the furniture," said Porthos.

     "Ma foi!" said Aramis, "we are all bad alike; one would think we acted
upon agreement."

     "What could I do?" said Porthos; "this horse made my visitors ashamed
of theirs, and I don't like to humble people!"

     "Then your duchess is still taking the waters?" asked D'Artagnan.

     "Yes, still," replied Porthos.  "And the governor of the province, one
of the gentlemen I expected to-day, seemed to have such a wish for him, that
I gave him to him."

     "Gave him?" cried D'Artagnan.

     "Lord yes, gave it to him, you can't call it anything but a gift," said
Porthos, "for the animal was worth at least a hundred and fifty louis, and
the stingy fellow would only give me eighty!"

     "Without the saddle?" said Aramis.

     "Yes, without the saddle."

     "You will please to observe, gentlemen," said Athos, "that Porthos has
made the best bargain of any of us."

     And then commenced a roar of laughter in which they all joined, to the
astonishment of poor Porthos: but when he was informed of the cause of their
hilarity, his laughter, according to custom, was more vociferous than
anybody's.

     "So, then, there is one comfort, we are all in cash," said D'Artagnan.

     "Well, for my part," said Athos, "I found Aramis' Spanish wine so good
that I sent on a hamper of sixty bottles of it with the lackeys: that has
weakened my purse not a little."

     "And I," said Aramis, "you can imagine that I had given almost my last
sou to the church of Montdidier and the Jesuits of Amiens; that I, moreover,
had formed engagements which I ought to have kept.  I have ordered masses for
myself, and for you, gentlemen, which will be said, gentlemen, and for which
I have not the least doubt you will be very much the better."

     "And I," said Porthos, "do you think my strain cost me nothing?  without
reckoning Mousqueton's wound, on account of which the surgeon was obliged to
come twice a day, and who charged the double on account of Mousqueton's
having allowed himself to be wounded in a part which people generally only
show to an apothecary; so I advised him to try never to get wounded there any
more."

     "Ay, ay!" said Athos, exchanging a smile with D'Artagnan and Aramis; "it
is very clear you acted nobly with regard to the poor lad; that is like a
good master."

     "In short," said Porthos, "when all my expenses are paid, I shall have,
at most, thirty crowns left."

     "And I about ten pistoles," said Aramis.

     "Well, then, it appears that we are the Croesuses of the society.  How
much have you left of your hundred pistoles, D'Artagnan?"

     "Of my hundred pistoles?  Why, in the first place, I gave you fifty."

     "You did?"

     "Pardieu!  yes."

     "Ah!  yes, so you did; I recollect now."

     "Then I paid the host six."

     "What an animal that host was!  Why did you give him six pistoles?"

     "Why, you told me to give them to him yourself!"

     "Ah!  so I did; but I am too good-natured.  In brief, how much have you
left?"

     "Twenty-five pistoles," said D'Artagnan.

     "And I," said Athos, taking some small change from his pocket, "I - "

     "You?  why, nothing!"

     "Ma foi!  so little that it is not worth reckoning with the general
stock."

     "Now, then, let us calculate how much we possess in all."

     "Porthos?"

     "Thirty crowns."

     "Aramis?"

     "Ten pistoles."

     "And you, D'Artagnan?"

     "Twenty-five."

     "That makes in all?" said Athos.

     "Four hundred and seventy-five livres!" said D'Artagnan, who reckoned
like an Archimedes.

     "Then on our arrival in Paris we shall still have four hundred, besides
the furniture," said Porthos.

     "But our troop horses?" said Aramis.

     "Well!  of the four lackeys' horses we will make two for the masters,
for which we will draw lots; with the four hundred livres, we will make the
half of one for one of the unmounted, and then we will give the turnings out
of our pockets to D'Artagnan, who has a steady hand, and will go and play in
the first tripet we come to.  There, that's arranged."

     "Let us finish the dinner, then," said Porthos; "it is getting cold."

     The friends having set their minds at ease with regard to the future,
did honor to the repast, the remains of which were abandoned to MM.
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
be admitted to the company of the musketeers.

     As this was the height of D'Artagnan's worldly ambition, apart, be it
well understood, from his desire of finding Madame Bonacieux, he ran, full
of joy, to seek his comrades, whom he had left only half an hour before, but
whom he found very sad and deeply preoccupied.  They were assembled in
council at the residence of Athos, which always indicated an event of some
seriousness.  M. de Treville had intimated to them that, it being his
majesty's fixed intention to open the campaign on the 1st of May, they must
immediately get ready all their appointments.

     The four philosophers looked at each other in a state of bewilderment.
M. de Treville never joked in matters relating to discipline.

     "And what do you reckon your appointments will cost?" said D'Artagnan.

     "Oh, we can scarcely venture to say.  We have made our calculations with
Spartan economy, and we each require fifteen hundred livres."

     "Four times fifteen make sixty - ah!  six thousand livres," said Athos.

     "For my part, I think," said D'Artagnan, "with a thousand livres each
- I do not speak as a Spartan, but as a procureur - "

     This word procureur roused Porthos.

     'Stop!" said he, "I have an idea."

     "Well, that's something; for my part, I have not the shadow of one,"
said Athos coolly; "but as to D'Artagnan, the idea of belonging to ours,
gentlemen, has driven him out of his senses.  A thousand livres!  for my
part, I declare I want two thousand."

     "Four times two makes eight, then," said Aramis; "it is eight thousand
that we want to complete our appointments, of which appointments, it is true,
we have already handsome saddles."

     "Besides," said Athos, waiting till D'Artagnan, who went to thank M. de
Treville, had shut the door, "besides, there is that beautiful ring which
beams from the finger of our friend.  What the devil!  D'Artagnan is too good
a comrade to leave his brothers in embarrassment while he wears the ransom
of a king on his finger."