"Mockery," muttered Athos, savagely; "royal honors to one whom they have
murdered!"

"Well, cheer up!" said a loud voice from the staircase, which Porthos
had just mounted. "We are all mortal, my poor friends."

"You are late, my dear Porthos."

"Yes, there were some people on the way who delayed me. The wretches
were dancing. I took one of them by the throat and three-quarters
throttled him. Just then a patrol rode up. Luckily the man I had had
most to do with was some minutes before he could speak, so I took
advantage of his silence to walk off."

"Have you seen D'Artagnan?"

"We got separated in the crowd and I could not find him again."

"Oh!" said Athos, satirically, "I saw him. He was in the front row of
the crowd, admirably placed for seeing; and as on the whole the sight
was curious, he probably wished to stay to the end."

"Ah Comte de la Fere," said a calm voice, though hoarse with running,
"is it your habit to calumniate the absent?"

This reproof stung Athos to the heart, but as the impression produced
by seeing D'Artagnan foremost in a coarse, ferocious crowd had been very
strong, he contented himself with replying:

"I am not calumniating you, my friend. They were anxious about you here;
I simply told them where you were. You didn't know King Charles; to you
he was only a foreigner and you were not obliged to love him."

So saying, he stretched out his hand, but the other pretended not to see
it and he let it drop again slowly by his side.

"Ugh! I am tired," cried D'Artagnan, sitting down.

"Drink a glass of port," said Aramis; "it will refresh you."

"Yes, let us drink," said Athos, anxious to make it up by hobnobbing
with D'Artagnan, "let us drink and get away from this hateful country.
The felucca is waiting for us, you know; let us leave to-night, we have
nothing more to do here."

"You are in a hurry, sir count," said D'Artagnan.

"But what would you have us to do here, now that the king is dead?"

"Go, sir count," replied D'Artagnan, carelessly; "you see nothing
to keep you a little longer in England? Well, for my part, I, a
bloodthirsty ruffian, who can go and stand close to a scaffold, in order
to have a better view of the king's execution--I remain."

Athos turned pale. Every reproach his friend uttered struck deeply in
his heart.

"Ah! you remain in London?" said Porthos.

"Yes. And you?"

"Hang it!" said Porthos, a little perplexed between the two, "I suppose,
as I cam