“To a certainty, Athos,” said Aramis, “you were meant to be a general of the army! What do you think of the plan, gentlemen?”
“Admirable!” replied the young men in chorus.
“Well,” said Porthos, “I will run to the hôtel, and engage our comrades to hold themselves in readiness by eight o’clock; the rendezvous, the Place du Palais-Cardinal. Meantime, you see that the lackeys saddle the horses.”
“I have no horse,” said D’Artagnan; “but that is of no consequence, I can take one of Monsieur de Tréville’s.”
“That is not worth while,” said Aramis, “you can have one of mine.”
“One of yours! how many have you, then?” asked D’Artagnan.
“Three,” replied Aramis, smiling.
“Certes,” cried Athos, “you are the best-mounted poet of France or Navarre.”
“Well, my dear Aramis, you don’t want three horses? I cannot comprehend what induced you to buy three!”
“Therefore I only purchased two,” said Aramis.