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a single thing there for you--which will be very inconvenient." "I think it will be a very long time, Raoul, ere I return to Paris. The last sojourn we have made there has not been of a nature to encourage me to repeat it." Raoul hung down his head and said not a word more. Athos descended from the carriage and mounted the horse which had brought Porthos, and which seemed no little pleased at the exchange. Then they embraced, and clasped each other's hands, and interchanged a thousand pledges of eternal friendship. Porthos promised to spend a month with Athos at the first opportunity. D'Artagnan engaged to take advantage of his first leave of absence; and then, having embraced Raoul for the last time: "To you, my boy," said he, "I will write." Coming from D'Artagnan, who he knew wrote very seldom, these words expressed everything. Raoul was moved even to tears. He tore himself away from the musketeer and departed. D'Artagnan rejoined Porthos in the carriage: "Well," said he, "my dear friend, what a day we have had!" "Indeed we have," answered Porthos. "You must be quite worn out." "Not quite; however, I shall retire early to rest, so as to be ready for to-morrow." "And wherefore?" "Why! to complete what I have begun." "You make me shudder, my friend, you seem to me quite angry. What the devil _have_ you begun which is not finished?" "Listen; Raoul has not fought, but _I_ must fight!" "With whom? with the king?" "How!" exclaimed Porthos, astounded, "with the king?" "Yes, I say, you great baby, with the king." "I assure you it is with M. Saint-Aignan." "Look now, this is what I mean; you draw your sword against the king in fighting with this gentleman." "Ah!" said Porthos, staring; "are you sure of it?" "Indeed I am." "What in the world are we to do, then?" "We must try and make a good supper, Porthos. The captain of the musketeers keeps a tolerable table. There you will see the handsome Saint-Aignan, and will drink his health." "I?" cried Porthos, horrified. "What!" said D'Artagnan, "you refuse to drink the king's health?" "But, body alive! I am not talking to you about the king at all; I am speaking of M. de Saint-Aignan." "But when I repeat that it is the same thing?" "Ah, well, well!" said Porthos, overcome. "You understand, don't you?" "No," answered Porthos, "but 'tis all the same." Chapter LXVII. M. de Baisemeaux's "Society." The reader has not
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