D’Artagnan, meantime, went into the house, whistling a tune which he had begun before Porthos went away.

“My dear Athos, I have reflected on your arguments and I am convinced.  I am sorry to have had anything to do with this matter.  As you say, Mazarin is a knave.  I have resolved to fly with you, not a word —­ be ready.  Your swords are in the corner; do not forget them, they are in many circumstances very useful; there is Porthos’s purse, too.”

He put it into his pocket.  The two friends were perfectly stupefied.

“Well, pray, is there anything to be so surprised at?” he said.  “I was blind; Athos has made me see, that’s all; come here.”

The two friends went near him.

“Do you see that street?  There are the horses.  Go out by the door, turn to the right, jump into your saddles, all will be right; don’t be uneasy at anything except mistaking the signal.  That will be the signal when I call out —­ Jesus Seigneur!”

“But give us your word that you will come too, D’Artagnan,” said Athos.

“I swear I will, by Heaven.”

“‘Tis settled,” said Aramis; “at the cry `Jesus Seigneur’ we go out, upset all that stands in our way, run to our horses, jump into our saddles, spur them; is that all?”

“Exactly.”

“See, Aramis, as I have told you, D’Artagnan is first amongst us all,” said Athos.

“Very true,” replied the Gascon, “but I always run away from compliments.  Don’t forget the signal:  `Jesus Seigneur!’” and he went out as he came in, whistling the self-same air.

The soldiers were playing or sleeping; two of them were singing in a corner, out of tune, the psalm:  “On the rivers of Babylon.”

D’Artagnan called the sergeant.  “My dear friend, General Cromwell has sent Monsieur Mordaunt to fetch me.  Guard the prisoners well, I beg of you.”

The sergeant made a sign, as much as to say he did not understand French, and D’Artagnan tried to make him comprehend by signs and gestures.  Then he went into the stable; he found the five horses saddled, his own amongst the rest.

“Each of you take a horse by the bridle,” he said to Porthos and Mousqueton; “turn to the left, so that Athos and Aramis may see you clearly from the window.”

“They are coming, then?” said Porthos.

“In a moment.”

“You didn’t forget my purse?”

“No; be easy.”

“Good.”

Porthos and Mousqueton each took a horse by the bridle and proceeded to their post.

Then D’Artagnan, being alone, struck a light and lighted a small bit of tinder, mounted his horse and stopped at the door in the midst of the soldiers.  There, caressing as he pretended, the animal with his hand, he put this bit of burning tinder in his ear.  It was necessary to be as good a horseman as he was to risk such a scheme, for no sooner had the animal felt the burning tinder than he uttered a cry of pain and reared and jumped as if he had been mad.