"Yes, yes," continued M. de Treville, growing warmer as he spoke,
"and his majesty was right; for, upon my honor, it is true that
the Musketeers make but a miserable figure at court. The
cardinal related yesterday while playing with the king, with an
air of condolence very displeasing to me, that the day before
yesterday those DAMNED MUSKETEERS, those DAREDEVILS--he dwelt
upon those words with an ironical tone still more displeasing to
me--those BRAGGARTS, added he, glancing at me with his tiger-
cat's eye, had made a riot in the Rue Ferou in a cabaret, and
that a party of his Guards (I thought he was going to laugh in my
face) had been forced to arrest the rioters! MORBLEU! You must
know something about it. Arrest Musketeers! You were among
them--you were! Don't deny it; you were recognized, and the
cardinal named you. But it's all my fault; yes, it's all my
fault, because it is myself who selects my men. You, Aramis, why
the devil did you ask me for a uniform when you would have been
so much better in a cassock? And you, Porthos, do you only wear
such a fine golden baldric to suspend a sword of straw from it?
And Athos--I don't see Athos. Where is he?"

"Ill--"

"Very ill, say you? And of what malady?"

"It is feared that it may be the smallpox, sir," replied Porthos,
desirous of taking his turn in the conversation; "and what is
serious is that it will certainly spoil his face."

"The smallpox! That's a great story to tell me, Porthos! Sick
of the smallpox at his age! No, no; but wounded without doubt,