ted Porthos to dress, piece by piece, with as much
celerity as the most skillful _valet de chambre_ could have done.
Porthos, half stupefied, let him do as he liked, and confounded himself
in excuses. When he was ready, Aramis took him by the hand, and led him,
making him place his foot with precaution on every step of the stairs,
preventing him running against door-frames, turning him this way and
that, as if Aramis had been the giant and Porthos the dwarf. Soul set
fire to and animated matter. A horse was waiting, ready saddled, in the
courtyard. Porthos mounted. Then Aramis himself took the horse by the
bridle, and led him over some dung spread in the yard, with the evident
intention of suppressing noise. He, at the same time, held tight the
horse's nose, to prevent him neighing. When arrived at the outward gate,
drawing Porthos towards him, who was going off without even asking him
what for: "Now, friend Porthos, now; without drawing bridle, till you
get to Paris," whispered he in his ears; "eat on horseback, drink on
horseback, but lose not a minute."

"That's enough; I will not stop."

"This letter to M. Fouquet; cost what it may, he must have it to-morrow
before mid-day."

"He shall."

"And do not forget _one_ thing, my friend."

"What is that?"

"That you are riding out on a hunt for your _brevet_ of _duc_ and peer."

"Oh! oh!" said Porthos, with his eyes sparkling; "I will do it in
twenty-four hours, in that case."

"Try."

"Then let go the bridle--and forward, Goliath!"

Aramis did let go, not the bridle, but the horse's nose. Porthos
released his hand, clapped spurs to his horse, which set off at a
gallop. As long as he could distinguish Porthos through the darkness,
Aramis followed him with his eyes: when he was completely out of sight,
he re-entered the yard. Nothing had stirred in D'Artagnan's apartment.
The _valet_ placed on watch at the door had neither seen any light, nor
heard any noise. Aramis closed his door carefully, sent the lackey to
bed, and quickly sought his own. D'Artagnan really suspected nothing,
therefore thought he had gained everything, when he awoke in the
morning, about half-past four. He ran to the window in his shirt.
The window looked out upon the court. Day was dawning. The court was
deserted; the fowls, even, had not left their roosts. Not a servant
appeared. Every door was closed.

"Good! all is still," said D'Artagnan to himself. "Never mind: I am
up first in the