ortal strife against him.

"What consoles me," said the cardinal after reading the letter, "is
that, at least, in this chase, D'Artagnan has done me one good turn--he
has destroyed Broussel. This Gascon is a precious fellow; even his
misadventures are of use."

The cardinal referred to that man whom D'Artagnan upset at the corner
of the Cimetiere Saint Jean in Paris, and who was no other than the
Councillor Broussel.

27. The four old Friends prepare to meet again.

"Well," said Porthos, seated in the courtyard of the Hotel de la
Chevrette, to D'Artagnan, who, with a long and melancholy face, had
returned from the Palais Royal; "did he receive you ungraciously, my
dear friend?"

"I'faith, yes! a brute, that cardinal. What are you eating there,
Porthos?"

"I am dipping a biscuit in a glass of Spanish wine; do the same."

"You are right. Gimblou, a glass of wine."

"Well, how has all gone off?"

"Zounds! you know there's only one way of saying things, so I went in
and said, 'My lord, we were not the strongest party.'

"'Yes, I know that,' he said, 'but give me the particulars.'

"You know, Porthos, I could not give him the particulars without naming
our friends; to name them would be to commit them to ruin, so I merely
said they were fifty and we were two.

"'There was firing, nevertheless, I heard,' he said; 'and your
swords--they saw the light of day, I presume?'

"'That is, the night, my lord,' I answered.

"'Ah!' cried the cardinal, 'I thought you were a Gascon, my friend?'

"'I am a Gascon,' said I, 'only when I succeed.' The answer pleased him
and he laughed.

"'That will teach me,' he said, 'to have my guards provided with better
horses; for if they had been able to keep up with you and if each one of
them had done as much as you and your friend, you would have kept your
word and would have brought him back to me dead or alive.'"

"Well, there's nothing bad in that, it seems to me," said Porthos.

"Oh, mon Dieu! no, nothing at all. It was the way in which he spoke.
It is incredible how these biscuit soak up wine! They are veritable
sponges! Gimblou, another bottle."

The bottle was brought with a promptness which showed the degree of
consideration D'Artagnan enjoyed in the establishment. He continued:

"So I was going away, but he called me back.

"'You have had three horses foundered or killed?' he asked me.

"'Yes, my lord.'

"'How much were they worth?'"

"Why," said Port