“Sell it, then.”
“Sell a jewel which came from my mother! I vow I should consider it a profanation.”
“Pledge it, then; you can borrow at least a thousand crowns on it. With that sum you can extricate yourself from your present difficulties; and when you are full of money again, you can redeem it, and take it back cleansed from its ancient stains, as it will have passed through the hands of usurers.”
Athos smiled.
“You are a capital companion, D’Artagnan,” said he; “your never-failing cheerfulness raises poor souls in affliction. Well, let us pledge the ring, but upon one condition.”
“What?”
“That there shall be five hundred crowns for you, and five hundred crowns for me.”
“Don’t dream it, Athos. I don’t need the quarter of such a sum—I who am still only in the Guards—and by selling my saddles, I shall procure it. What do I want? A horse for Planchet, that’s all. Besides, you forget that I have a ring likewise.”
“To which you attach more value, it seems, than I do to mine; at least, I have thought so.”
“Yes, for in any extreme circumstance it might not only extricate us from some great embarrassment, but even a great danger. It is not only a valuable diamond, but it is an enchanted talisman.”