ear his tent, reclining on a truss
of hay, of which his horse stole some mouthfuls; the young man's eyes
were red and he seemed dejected. The Marechal de Grammont and the Comte
de Guiche had returned to Paris and he was quite lonely. And as soon as
he saw the two cavaliers he ran to them with open arms.

"Oh, is it you, dear friends? Did you come here to fetch me? Will you
take me away with you? Do you bring me tidings of my guardian?"

"Have you not received any?" said D'Artagnan to the youth.

"Alas! sir, no, and I do not know what has become of him; so that I am
really so unhappy that I weep."

In fact, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Porthos turned aside, in order not to show by his honest round face what
was passing in his mind.

"Deuce take it!" cried D'Artagnan, more moved than he had been for
a long time, "don't despair, my friend, if you have not received any
letters from the count, we have received one."

"Oh, really!" cried Raoul.

"And a comforting one, too," added D'Artagnan, seeing the delight that
his intelligence gave the young man.

"Have you it?" asked Raoul

"Yes--that is, I had it," repined the Gascon, making believe to find it.
"Wait, it ought to be there in my pocket; it speaks of his return, does
it not, Porthos?"

All Gascon as he was, D'Artagnan could not bear alone the weight of that
falsehood.

"Yes," replied Porthos, coughing.

"Eh, give it to me!" said the young man.

"Eh! I read it a little while since. Can I have lost it? Ah! confound
it! yes, my pocket has a hole in it."

"Oh, yes, Monsieur Raoul!" said Mousqueton, "the letter was very
consoling. These gentlemen read it to me and I wept for joy."

"But at any rate, you know where he is, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" asked
Raoul, somewhat comforted.

"Ah! that's the thing!" replied the Gascon. "Undoubtedly I know it, but
it is a mystery."

"Not to me, I hope?"

"No, not to you, so I am going to tell you where he is."

Porthos devoured D'Artagnan with wondering eyes.

"Where the devil shall I say that he is, so that he cannot try to rejoin
him?" thought D'Artagnan.

"Well, where is he, sir?" asked Raoul, in a soft and coaxing voice.

"He is at Constantinople."

"Among the Turks!" exclaimed Raoul, alarmed. "Good heavens! how can you
tell me that?"

"Does that alarm you?" cried D'Artagnan. "Pooh! what are the Turks to
such men as the Comte de la Fere and the Abbe d'Herblay?"

"Ah, his friend is with him?" said Raoul.