“We will share,” said Porthos.
“A paltry piece of business!” murmured D’Artagnan crumpling his note.
“Pooh!” said Porthos, “it is always that. But tell me——”
“What?”
“Didn’t he speak of me in any way?”
“Ah! yes, indeed!” cried D’Artagnan, who was afraid of disheartening his friend by telling him that the cardinal had not breathed a word about him; “yes, surely, he said——”
“He said?” resumed Porthos.
“Stop, I want to remember his exact words. He said, ‘As to your friend, tell him he may sleep in peace.’”
“Good, very good,” said Porthos; “that signified as clear as daylight that he still intends to make me a baron.”
At this moment nine o’clock struck. D’Artagnan started.