“What, then, has Monsieur de Flamarens been telling me?”
“Monsieur de Flamarens?”
“Yes, he has just gone out.”
Athos smiled. “With two companions?” he said.
“With two companions, yes,” replied the duke. Then he added with a certain uneasiness, “Did you meet them?”
“Why, yes, I think so—in the street,” said Athos; and he looked smilingly at Aramis, who looked at him with an expression of surprise.
“The devil take this gout!” cried Monsieur de Bouillon, evidently ill at ease.
“My lord,” said Athos, “we admire your devotion to the cause you have espoused, in remaining at the head of the army whilst so ill, in so much pain.”
“One must,” replied Monsieur de Bouillon, “sacrifice one’s comfort to the public good; but I confess to you I am now almost exhausted. My spirit is willing, my head is clear, but this demon, the gout, o’ercrows me. I confess, if the court would do justice to my claims and give the head of my house the title of prince, and if my brother De Turenne were reinstated in his command I would return to my estates and leave the court and parliament to settle things between themselves as they might.”
“You are perfectly right, my lord.”