“We shall soon see that by the road he takes,” answered Porthos.
“If he is set at liberty,” said Grimaud, “they will conduct him home.”
“True,” rejoined Porthos.
“The carriage does not take that way,” cried Raoul; and indeed the horses were just disappearing down the Faubourg St. Antoine.
“Let us hasten,” said Porthos; “we will attack the carriage on the road, and tell Athos to flee.”
“Rebellion,” murmured Raoul.
Porthos darted a second glance at Raoul, quite worthy of the first. Raoul replied only by spurring the flanks of his steed. In a few moments the three cavaliers had overtaken the carriage, and followed it so closely that their horses’ breath moistened the back of it. D’Artagnan, whose senses were ever on the alert, heard the trot of the horses at the moment when Raoul was telling Porthos to pass the chariot so as to see who was the person accompanying Athos. Porthos complied, but could not see anything, for the blinds were lowered. Rage and impatience were gaining mastery over Raoul. He had just noticed the mystery preserved by Athos’s companion, and determined on proceeding to extremities. On his part d’Artagnan had clearly recognized Porthos, and Raoul also, from under the blinds, and had communicated to the count the result of his observation. They were desirous only of seeing whether Raoul and Porthos would push the affair to the uttermost. And this they speedily did. Raoul, presenting his pistol, threw himself on the leader, commanding the coachman to stop. Porthos seized the coachman and dragged him from his seat. Grimaud already had hold of the carriage door. Raoul threw open his arms, exclaiming, “Monsieur the Count! Monsieur the Count!”
“Ah! is it you, Raoul?” said Athos, intoxicated with joy.
“Not bad, indeed!” added d’Artagnan, with a burst of laughter; and they both embraced the young man and Porthos, who had captured them.
“My brave Porthos, best of friends!” cried Athos, “it is still the same with you.
“He is still only twenty,” said d’Artagnan. “Bravo, Porthos!”
“Confound it!” answered Porthos, slightly confused, “we thought that you were arrested.”
“While,” rejoined Athos, “I was, in fact, only taking a drive in M. d’Artagnan’s carriage.”
“But we followed you from the Bastille,” returned Raoul, with a tone of suspicion and reproach.
“Where we had been to take supper with our good friend M. Baisemeaux. You recollect Baisemeaux, Porthos?”
“Very well, indeed.”
“And there we saw Aramis.”
“In the Bastille?”
“At supper.”
“Ah!” said Porthos, again breathing freely.
“He gave us a thousand messages for you.”
“Thanks.”
“And where is Monsieur the Count going?” asked Grimaud, already recompensed by a smile from his master.
“We are going home to Blois.”
“How is that,- at once?”
“Yes; right forward.”
“Without any luggage?”
“Oh! Raoul would have been instructed to forward me mine, or to bring it with him on his return, if he returns.”
“If nothing detains him longer in Paris,” said d’Artagnan, with a glance firm and cutting as steel, and as painful (for it reopened the poor young fellow’s wounds), “he will do well to follow you, Athos.”
“There is nothing to keep me any longer in Paris,” said Raoul.
“Then we will go immediately,” replied Athos.
“And M. d’Artagnan?”
“Oh! as for me, I was only accompanying Athos as far as the barrier, and I return with Porthos.”
“Very good,” said the latter.
“Come, my son,” added the count, gently passing his arm round Raoul’s neck to draw him into the carriage, and again embracing him. “Grimaud,” continued the count, “you will return quietly to Paris with your horse and M. du Vallon’s, for Raoul and I will mount here and give up the carriage to these two gentlemen to return to Paris in; and then, as soon as you arrive, you will take my clothes and letters, and forward the whole to me at home.”
“But,” observed Raoul, who was anxious to make the count converse, “when you return to Paris, there will not be a single thing there for you,- which will be very inconvenient.”
“I think it will be a very long time, Raoul, ere I return to Paris. The last sojourn we have made there has not been of a nature to encourage me to repeat it.”