“Oh!” said Aramis, “suppose the master is a Puritan?”
“So much the better, mordioux!” replied D’Artagnan; “if he is a Puritan we will inform him of the capture of the king, and in honor of the news he will kill for us his fatted hens.”
“But if he should be a cavalier?” said Porthos.
“In that case we will put on an air of mourning and he will pluck for us his black fowls.”
“You are very happy,” exclaimed Athos, laughing, in spite of himself, at the sally of the irresistible Gascon; “for you see the bright side of everything.”
“What would you have?” said D’Artagnan. “I come from a land where there is not a cloud in the sky.”
“It is not like this, then,” said Porthos stretching out his hand to assure himself whether a chill sensation he felt on his cheek was not really caused by a drop of rain.
“Come, come,” said D’Artagnan, “more reason why we should start on our journey. Halloo, Grimaud!”
Grimaud appeared.
“Well, Grimaud, my friend, have you seen anything?” asked the Gascon.