, my
good friends, both in my own name and the queen's."

The three gentlemen then shook hands, Lord de Winter taking the Rue
Saint Honore, and Athos and Aramis remaining together.

"Well," said Aramis, when they were alone, "what do you think of this
business, my dear count?"

"Bad," replied Athos, "very bad."

"But you received it with enthusiasm."

"As I shall ever receive the defense of a great principle, my
dear D'Herblay. Monarchs are only strong by the assistance of the
aristocracy, but aristocracy cannot survive without the countenance of
monarchs. Let us, then, support monarchy, in order to support ourselves.

"We shall be murdered there," said Aramis. "I hate the English--they are
coarse, like every nation that swills beer."

"Would it be better to remain here," said Athos, "and take a turn in
the Bastile or the dungeon of Vincennes for having favored the escape of
Monsieur de Beaufort? I'faith, Aramis, believe me, there is little left
to regret. We avoid imprisonment and we play the part of heroes; the
choice is easy."

"It is true; but in everything, friend, one must always return to the
same question--a stupid one, I admit, but very necessary--have you any
money?"

"Something like a hundred pistoles, that my farmer sent to me the day
before I left Bragelonne; but out of that sum I ought to leave fifty
for Raoul--a young man must live respectably. I have then about fifty
pistoles. And you?"

"As for me, I am quite sure that after turning out all my pockets and
emptying my drawers I shall not find ten louis at home. Fortunately Lord
de Winter is rich."

"Lord de Winter is ruined for the moment; Oliver Cromwell has annexed
his income resources."

"Now is the time when Baron Porthos would be useful."

"Now it is that I regret D'Artagnan."

"Let us entice them away."

"This secret, Aramis, does not belong to us; take my advice, then, and
let no one into our confidence. And moreover, in taking such a step we
should appear to be doubtful of ourselves. Let us regret their absence
to ourselves for our own sakes, but not speak of it."

"You are right; but what are you going to do until this evening? I have
two things to postpone."

"And what are they?"

"First, a thrust with the coadjutor, whom I met last night at Madame de
Rambouillet's and whom I found particular in his remarks respecting me."

"Oh, fie--a quarrel between priests, a duel between allies!"

"What can I do, friend? he is a b