the summons which had been made had doubtless furnished fresh
food, had recommenced; when M. de Treville had three or four
times paced in silence, and with a frowning brow, the whole
length of his cabinet, passing each time before Porthos and
Aramis, who were as upright and silent as if on parade--he
stopped all at once full in front of them, and covering them from
head to foot with an angry look, "Do you know what the king said
to me," cried he, "and that no longer ago than yesterday
evening--do you know, gentlemen?"

"No," replied the two Musketeers, after a moment's silence, "no,
sir, we do not."

"But I hope that you will do us the honor to tell us," added
Aramis, in his politest tone and with his most graceful bow.

"He told me that he should henceforth recruit his Musketeers from
among the Guards of Monsieur the Cardinal."

"The Guards of the cardinal! And why so?" asked Porthos, warmly.

"Because he plainly perceives that his piquette* stands in need
of being enlivened by a mixture of good wine."

*A watered liquor, made from the second pressing of the grape.

The two Musketeers reddened to the whites of their eyes.
d'Artagnan did not know where he was, and wished himself a
hundred feet underground.