lackeys know to be millionaires. It is true we plundered
them a little when we took them, and I will even confess
that it is their purse that Monsieur du Vallon and I draw on
in our nightly play. Still, they may have concealed some
precious stone, some valuable diamond; so that we are like
those misers who are unable to absent themselves from their
treasures. We have made ourselves the constant guardians of
our men, and while I sleep Monsieur du Vallon watches.”
“Ah! ah!” said Groslow.
“You see, then, why I must decline your polite invitation,
which is especially attractive to me, because nothing is so
wearisome as to play night after night with the same person;
the chances always balance and at the month’s end nothing is
gained or lost.”
“Ah!” said Groslow, sighing; “there is something still more
wearisome, and that is not to play at all.”
“I can understand that,” said D’Artagnan.
“But, come,” resumed the Englishman, “are these men of yours
dangerous?”
“In what respect?”
“Are they capable of attempting violence?”
D’Artagnan burst out laughing at the idea.
“Jesus Dieu!” he cried; “one of them is trembling with
fever, having failed to adapt himself to this charming
country of yours, and the other is a knight of Malta, as
timid as a young girl; and for greater security we have
taken from them even their penknives and pocket scissors.”
“Well, then,” said Groslow, “bring them with you.”
“But really —- ” said D’Artagnan.
“I have eight men on guard, you know. Four of them can guard
the king and the other four your prisoners. I’ll manage it
somehow, you will see.”
“But,” said D’Artagnan, “now I think of it — what is to
prevent our beginning to-night?”
“Nothing at all,” said Groslow.
“Just so. Come to us this evening and to-morrow we’ll return
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your visit.”
“Capital! This evening with you, to-morrow at Stuart’s, the
next day with me.”
“You see, that with a little forethought one can lead a
merry life anywhere and everywhere,” said D’Artagnan.
“Yes, with Frenchmen, and Frenchmen like you.”
“And Monsieur du Vallon,” added the other. “You will see
what a fellow he is; a man who nearly killed Mazarin between
two doors. They employ him because they are afraid of him.
Ah, there he is calling me now. You’ll excuse me, I know.”
They exchanged bows and D’Artagnan returned to his
companions.
“What on earth can you have been saying to that bulldog?”
exclaimed Porthos.
“My dear fellow, don’t speak like that of Monsieur Groslow.
He’s one of my most intimate friends.”
“One of your friends!” cried Porthos, “this butcher of
unarmed farmers!”
“Hush! my dear Porthos. Monsieur Groslow is perhaps rather
hasty, it’s true, but at bottom I have discovered two good
qualities in him — he is conceited and stupid.”
Porthos opened his eyes in amazement; Athos and Aramis
looked at one another and smiled; they knew D’Artagnan, and
knew that he did nothing without a purpose.
“But,” continued D’Artagnan, “you shall judge of him for
yourself. He is coming to play with us this evening.”
“Oho!” said Porthos, his eyes glistening at the news. “Is he
rich?”
“He’s the son of one of the wealthiest merchants in London.”
“And knows lansquenet?”
“Adores it.”
“Basset?”
“His mania.’
“Biribi?”
“Revels in it.”
“Good,” said Porthos; “we shall pass an agreeable evening.”
“The more so, as it will be the prelude to a better.”
“How so?”
“We invite him to play to-night; he has invited us in return
to-morrow. But wait. To-night we stop at Derby; and if there
is a bottle of wine in the town let Mousqueton buy it. It
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will be well to prepare a light supper, of which you, Athos
and Aramis, are not to partake — Athos, because I told him
you had a fever; Aramis, because you are a knight of Malta
and won’t mix with fellows like us. Do you understand?”
“That’s no doubt very fine,” said Porthos; “but deuce take
me if I understand at all.”
“Porthos, my friend, you know I am descended on the father’s