And D’Artagnan chinked the remainder of his pistoles in his pocket.
“Send your saddle, then, to the hôtel of the Musketeers, and your horse can be brought back with ours.”
“Very well; but it is already five o’clock, so make haste.”
A quarter of an hour afterward Porthos appeared at the end of the Rue Férou on a very handsome genet. Mousqueton followed him upon an Auvergne horse, small but very handsome. Porthos was resplendent with joy and pride.
At the same time, Aramis made his appearance at the other end of the street upon a superb English charger. Bazin followed him upon a roan, holding by the halter a vigorous Mecklenburg horse; this was D’Artagnan’s mount.
The two Musketeers met at the gate. Athos and D’Artagnan watched their approach from the window.
“The devil!” cried Aramis, “you have a magnificent horse there, Porthos.”
“Yes,” replied Porthos, “it is the one that ought to have been sent to me at first. A bad joke of the husband’s substituted the other; but the husband has been punished since, and I have obtained full satisfaction.”
Planchet and Grimaud appeared in their turn, leading their masters’ steeds. D’Artagnan and Athos put themselves into saddle with their companions, and all four set forward; Athos upon a horse he owed to a woman, Aramis on a horse he owed to his mistress, Porthos on a horse he owed to his procurator’s wife, and D’Artagnan on a horse he owed to his good fortune—the best mistress possible.
The lackeys followed.