“Sir, have the kindness also to awaken Monsieur du Vallon and to say ’tis by his eminence’s order, and that I shall await him at the stables.”
The officer went off with an eagerness that showed the Gascon that he had some personal interest in the matter.
Porthos was snoring most musically when some one touched him on the shoulder.
“I come from the cardinal,” said the officer.
“Heigho!” said Porthos, opening his large eyes; “what have you got to say?”
“That his eminence has ordered you to England and that Monsieur d’Artagnan is waiting for you in the stables.”
Porthos sighed heavily, arose, took his hat, his pistols, and his cloak, and departed, casting a look of regret upon the couch where he had hoped to sleep so well.
No sooner had he turned his back than the officer laid himself down in it, and he had scarcely crossed the threshold before his successor, in his turn, was snoring immoderately. It was very natural, he being the only person in the whole assemblage, except the king, the queen, and the Duke of Orleans, who slept gratuitously.
Chapter LIV.
In which we hear Tidings of Aramis.
D’Artagnan went straight to the stables; day was just dawning. He found his horse and that of Porthos fastened to the manger, but to an empty manger. He took pity on these poor animals and went to a corner of the stable, where he saw a little straw, but in doing so he struck his foot against a human body, which uttered a cry and arose on its knees, rubbing its eyes. It was Mousqueton, who, having no straw to lie upon, had helped himself to that of the horses.