“Monsieur,” said Porthos, “I have a horse below: be good enough to mount him; he is a very good one and will play you no tricks.”
“Mount on horseback! what for?” inquired Saint-Aignan, with no little curiosity.
“To accompany me to where M. de Bragelonne is waiting us.”
“Ah! he wishes to speak to me, I suppose? I can well believe that; he wishes to have the details, very likely; alas! it is a very delicate matter; but at the present moment I cannot, for the king is waiting for me.”
“The king must wait, then,” said Porthos.
“What do you say? the king must wait!” interrupted the finished courtier, with a smile of utter amazement, for he could not understand that the king could under any circumstances be supposed to have to wait.
“It is merely the affair of a very short hour,” returned Porthos.
“But where is M. de Bragelonne waiting for me?”
“At the Minimes, at Vincennes.”
“Ah, indeed! but are we going to laugh over the affair when we get there?”