And he took hold of one within his reach; his two companions did the same thing.
“Sir,” cried the groom, “they have traversed six leagues and have only been unsaddled half an hour.”
“Half an hour’s rest is enough,” replied the Gascon.
The groom cried aloud for help. A kind of steward appeared, just as D’Artagnan and his companions were prepared to mount. The steward attempted to expostulate.
“My dear friend,” cried the lieutenant, “if you say a word I will blow out your brains.”
“But, sir,” answered the steward, “do you know that these horses belong to Monsieur de Montbazon?”
“So much the better; they must be good animals, then.”
“Sir, I shall call my people.”
“And I, mine; I’ve ten guards behind me, don’t you hear them gallop? and I’m one of the king’s musketeers. Come, Porthos; come, Mousqueton.”
They all mounted the horses as quickly as possible.