No signature.
“That’s a snare,” said Athos; “don’t go, D’Artagnan.”
“And yet,” replied D’Artagnan, “I think I recognize the writing.”
“It may be counterfeit,” said Athos. “Between six and seven o’clock the road of Chaillot is quite deserted; you might as well go and ride in the forest of Bondy.”
“But suppose we all go,” said D’Artagnan; “what the devil! They won’t devour us all four, four lackeys, horses, arms, and all!”
“And besides, it will be a chance for displaying our new equipments,” said Porthos.
“But if it is a woman who writes,” said Aramis, “and that woman desires not to be seen, remember, you compromise her, D’Artagnan; which is not the part of a gentleman.”
“We will remain in the background,” said Porthos, “and he will advance alone.”
“Yes; but a pistol shot is easily fired from a carriage which goes at a gallop.”
“Bah!” said D’Artagnan, “they will miss me; if they fire we will ride after the carriage, and exterminate those who may be in it. They must be enemies.”