“Have you any friends?”
“I had three, two of whom have left Paris, to go I know not where. One alone is left to me, but he is one of those known, I believe, to the cavalier of whom your majesty did me the honor to speak.”
“Very good,” said the queen; “you and your friend are worth an army.”
“What am I to do, madame?”
“Return at five o’clock and I will tell you; but do not breathe to a living soul, sir, the rendezvous which I give you.”
“No, madame.”
“Swear it upon the cross.”
“Madame, I have never been false to my word; when I say I will not do a thing, I mean it.”
The queen, although astonished at this language, to which she was not accustomed from her courtiers, argued from it a happy omen of the zeal with which D’Artagnan would serve her in the accomplishment of her project. It was one of the Gascon’s artifices to hide his deep cunning occasionally under an appearance of rough loyalty.
“Has the queen any further commands for me now?” asked D’Artagnan.