“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?”