At this moment Grimaud came in. He had stanched the wound and the man was better.
The four friends took leave of him and asked if they could deliver any message for him to his brother.
“Tell him,” answered the brave man, “to let the king know that they have not killed me outright. However insignificant I am, I am sure that his majesty is concerned for me and blames himself for my death.”
“Be easy,” said D’Artagnan, “he will know all before night.”
The little troop recommenced their march, and at the end of two hours perceived a considerable body of horsemen about half a league ahead.
“My dear friends,” said D’Artagnan, “give your swords to Monsieur Mouston, who will return them to you at the proper time and place, and do not forget you are our prisoners.”
It was not long before they joined the escort. The king was riding in front, surrounded by troopers, and when he saw Athos and Aramis a glow of pleasure lighted his pale cheeks.
D’Artagnan passed to the head of the column, and leaving his friends under the guard of Porthos, went straight to Harrison, who recognized him as having met him at Cromwell’s and received him as politely as a man of his breeding and disposition could. It turned out as D’Artagnan had foreseen. The colonel neither had nor could have any suspicion.
They halted for the king to dine. This time, however, due precautions were taken to prevent any attempt at escape. In the large room of the hotel a small table was placed for him and a large one for the officers.
“Will you dine with me?” asked Harrison of D’Artagnan.