“Help to put me on the bed; I think I shall feel better there.”
“Have you any one to depend on for assistance?”
“My wife is at Durham and may return at any moment. But you—is there nothing that you want?”
“We came here with the intention of asking for something to eat.”
“Alas, they have taken everything; there isn’t a morsel of bread in the house.”
“You hear, D’Artagnan?” said Athos; “we shall have to look elsewhere for our dinner.”
“It is all one to me now,” said D’Artagnan; “I am no longer hungry.”
“Faith! neither am I,” said Porthos.
They carried the man to his bed and called Grimaud to dress the wound. In the service of the four friends Grimaud had had so frequent occasion to make lint and bandages that he had become something of a surgeon.
In the meantime the fugitives had returned to the first room, where they took counsel together.