In short, Groslow seemed to be pleased with his reception.
Athos and Aramis kept themselves to their role. At midnight they withdrew to their chamber, the door of which was left open on the pretext of kindly consideration. Furthermore, D’Artagnan went with them, leaving Porthos at play with Groslow.
Porthos gained fifty pistoles from Groslow, and found him a more agreeable companion than he had at first believed him to be.
As to Groslow, he promised himself that on the following evening he would recover from D’Artagnan what he had lost to Porthos, and on leaving reminded the Gascon of his appointment.
The next day was spent as usual. D’Artagnan went from Captain Groslow to Colonel Harrison and from Colonel Harrison to his friends. To any one not acquainted with him he seemed to be in his normal condition; but to his friends—to Athos and Aramis—was apparent a certain feverishness in his gayety.
“What is he contriving?” asked Aramis.
“Wait,” said Athos.
Porthos said nothing, but he handled in his pocket the fifty pistoles he had gained from Groslow with a degree of satisfaction which betrayed itself in his whole bearing.
Arrived at Ryston, D’Artagnan assembled his friends. His face had lost the expression of careless gayety it had worn like a mask the whole day. Athos pinched Aramis’s hand.
“The moment is at hand,” he said.