At the foot of the staircase De Winter stopped.

“Not to arouse suspicions, gentlemen,” said he, “go your way and I will go mine, and this evening at nine o’clock we will assemble again at the Gate Saint Denis.  We will travel on horseback as far as our horses can go and afterward we can take the post.  Once more, let me thank you, my good friends, both in my own name and the queen’s.”

The three gentlemen then shook hands, Lord de Winter taking the Rue Saint Honore, and Athos and Aramis remaining together.

“Well,” said Aramis, when they were alone, “what do you think of this business, my dear count?”

“Bad,” replied Athos, “very bad.”

“But you received it with enthusiasm.”

“As I shall ever receive the defense of a great principle, my dear D’Herblay.  Monarchs are only strong by the assistance of the aristocracy, but aristocracy cannot survive without the countenance of monarchs.  Let us, then, support monarchy, in order to support ourselves.

“We shall be murdered there,” said Aramis.  “I hate the English —­ they are coarse, like every nation that swills beer.”

“Would it be better to remain here,” said Athos, “and take a turn in the Bastile or the dungeon of Vincennes for having favored the escape of Monsieur de Beaufort?  I’faith, Aramis, believe me, there is little left to regret.  We avoid imprisonment and we play the part of heroes; the choice is easy.”

“It is true; but in everything, friend, one must always return to the same question —­ a stupid one, I admit, but very necessary —­ have you any money?”

“Something like a hundred pistoles, that my farmer sent to me the day before I left Bragelonne; but out of that sum I ought to leave fifty for Raoul —­ a young man must live respectably.  I have then about fifty pistoles.  And you?”

“As for me, I am quite sure that after turning out all my pockets and emptying my drawers I shall not find ten louis at home.  Fortunately Lord de Winter is rich.”

“Lord de Winter is ruined for the moment; Oliver Cromwell has annexed his income resources.”

“Now is the time when Baron Porthos would be useful.”

“Now it is that I regret D’Artagnan.”

“Let us entice them away.”

“This secret, Aramis, does not belong to us; take my advice, then, and let no one into our confidence.  And moreover, in taking such a step we should appear to be doubtful of ourselves.  Let us regret their absence to ourselves for our own sakes, but not speak of it.”

“You are right; but what are you going to do until this evening?  I have two things to postpone.”

“And what are they?”

“First, a thrust with the coadjutor, whom I met last night at Madame de Rambouillet’s and whom I found particular in his remarks respecting me.”

“Oh, fie —­ a quarrel between priests, a duel between allies!”