ch D'Artagnan
took and shook in his.

"Oh!" cried Porthos, as if in pain.

D'Artagnan looked with surprise at his friend.

"What is the matter, then?" he asked.

"I think I have sprained my wrist,' said Porthos.

"The devil! why, you strike like a blind or a deaf man."

"It was necessary; my man was going to fire a pistol at me; but you--how
did you get rid of yours?"

"Oh, mine," replied D'Artagnan, "was not a man."

"What was it then?"

"It was an apparition."

"And----"

"I charmed it away."

Without further explanation D'Artagnan took the pistols which were upon
the front seat, placed them in his belt, wrapped himself in his cloak,
and not wishing to enter by the same gate as that through which they had
left, he took his way toward the Richelieu gate.

52. The Carriage of Monsieur le Coadjuteur.

Instead of returning, then, by the Saint Honore gate, D'Artagnan,
who had time before him, walked around and re-entered by the Porte
Richelieu. He was approached to be examined, and when it was discovered
by his plumed hat and his laced coat, that he was an officer of the
musketeers, he was surrounded, with the intention of making him cry,
"Down with Mazarin!" The demonstration did not fail to make him uneasy
at first; but when he discovered what it meant, he shouted it in such a
voice that even the most exacting were satisfied. He walked down the Rue
Richelieu, meditating how he should carry off the queen in her turn,
for to take her in a carriage bearing the arms of France was not to be
thought of, when he perceived an equipage standing at the door of the
hotel belonging to Madame de Guemenee.

He was struck by a sudden idea.

"Ah, pardieu!" he exclaimed; "that would be fair play."

And approaching the carriage, he examined the arms on the panels and the
livery of the coachman on his box. This scrutiny was so much the more
easy, the coachman being sound asleep.

"It is, in truth, monsieur le coadjuteur's carriage," said D'Artagnan;
"upon my honor I begin to think that Heaven favors us."

He mounted noiselessly into the chariot and pulled the silk cord which
was attached to the coachman's little finger.

"To the Palais Royal," he called out.

The coachman awoke with a start and drove off in the direction he was
desired, never doubting but that the order had come from his master.
The porter at the palace was about to close the gates, but seeing such
a handsome equipage he fancied that i