In short, Groslow seemed to be pleased with his reception.

Athos and Aramis kept themselves to their role.  At midnight they withdrew to their chamber, the door of which was left open on the pretext of kindly consideration.  Furthermore, D’Artagnan went with them, leaving Porthos at play with Groslow.

Porthos gained fifty pistoles from Groslow, and found him a more agreeable companion than he had at first believed him to be.

As to Groslow, he promised himself that on the following evening he would recover from D’Artagnan what he had lost to Porthos, and on leaving reminded the Gascon of his appointment.

The next day was spent as usual.  D’Artagnan went from Captain Groslow to Colonel Harrison and from Colonel Harrison to his friends.  To any one not acquainted with him he seemed to be in his normal condition; but to his friends —­ to Athos and Aramis —­ was apparent a certain feverishness in his gayety.

“What is he contriving?” asked Aramis.

“Wait,” said Athos.

Porthos said nothing, but he handled in his pocket the fifty pistoles he had gained from Groslow with a degree of satisfaction which betrayed itself in his whole bearing.

Arrived at Ryston, D’Artagnan assembled his friends.  His face had lost the expression of careless gayety it had worn like a mask the whole day.  Athos pinched Aramis’s hand.

“The moment is at hand,” he said.

“Yes,” returned D’Artagnan, who had overheard him, “to-night, gentlemen, we rescue the king.”

“D’Artagnan,” said Athos, “this is no joke, I trust?  It would quite cut me up.”

“You are a very odd man, Athos,” he replied, “to doubt me thus.  Where and when have you seen me trifle with a friend’s heart and a king’s life?  I have told you, and I repeat it, that to-night we rescue Charles I. You left it to me to discover the means and I have done so.”

Porthos looked at D’Artagnan with an expression of profound admiration.  Aramis smiled as one who hopes.  Athos was pale, and trembled in every limb.

“Speak,” said Athos.

“We are invited,” replied D’Artagnan, “to pass the night with M. Groslow.  But do you know where?”

“No.”

“In the king’s room.”

“The king’s room?” cried Athos.

“Yes, gentlemen, in the king’s room.  Groslow is on guard there this evening, and to pass the time away he has invited us to keep him company.”

“All four of us?” asked Athos.

“Pardieu! certainly, all four; we couldn’t leave our prisoners, could we?”

“Ah! ah!” said Aramis.

“Tell us about it,” said Athos, palpitating.

“We are going, then, we two with our swords, you with daggers.  We four have got to master these eight fools and their stupid captain.  Monsieur Porthos, what do you say to that?”

“I say it is easy enough,” answered Porthos.

“We dress the king in Groslow’s clothes.  Mousqueton, Grimaud and Blaisois have our horses saddled at the end of the first street.  We mount them and before daylight are twenty leagues distant.”