o the ground."

"Do you think that likely?"

"No, the other cardinal would have done so, but this one is too mean a
fellow to risk it."

"You reconcile me, D'Artagnan."

"Well, then, assume a cheerful manner, as I do; we must joke with the
guards, we must gain the good-will of the soldiers, since we can't
corrupt them. Try, Porthos, to please them more than you are wont to do
when they are under our windows. Thus far you have done nothing but show
them your fist; and the more respectable your fist is, Porthos, the
less attractive it is. Ah, I would give much to have five hundred louis,
only."

"So would I," said Porthos, unwilling to be behind D'Artagnan in
generosity; "I would give as much as a hundred pistoles."

The two prisoners were at this point of their conversation when
Comminges entered, preceded by a sergeant and two men, who brought
supper in a basket with two handles, filled with basins and plates.

"What!" exclaimed Porthos, "mutton again?"

"My dear Monsieur de Comminges," said D'Artagnan, "you will find that
my friend, Monsieur du Vallon, will go to the most fatal lengths if
Cardinal Mazarin continues to provide us with this sort of meat; mutton
every day."

"I declare," said Porthos, "I shall eat nothing if they do not take it
away."

"Remove the mutton," cried Comminges; "I wish Monsieur du Vallon to sup
well, more especially as I have news to give him that will improve his
appetite."

"Is Mazarin dead?" asked Porthos.

"No; I am sorry to tell you he is perfectly well."

"So much the worse," said Porthos.

"What is that news?" asked D'Artagnan. "News in prison is a fruit
so rare that I trust, Monsieur de Comminges, you will excuse my
impatience--the more eager since you have given us to understand that
the news is good."

"Should you be glad to hear that the Comte de la Fere is well?" asked De
Comminges.

D'Artagnan's penetrating gray eyes were opened to the utmost.

"Glad!" he cried; "I should be more than glad! Happy--beyond measure!"

"Well, I am desired by him to give you his compliments and to say that
he is in good health."

D'Artagnan almost leaped with joy. A quick glance conveyed his thought
to Porthos: "If Athos knows where we are, if he opens communication with
us, before long Athos will act."

Porthos was not very quick to understand the language of glances, but
now since the name of Athos had suggested to him the same idea, he
understood.

"Do you say," asked t