“What is that news?” asked D’Artagnan. “News in prison is a fruit so rare that I trust, Monsieur de Comminges, you will excuse my impatience—the more eager since you have given us to understand that the news is good.”
“Should you be glad to hear that the Comte de la Fere is well?” asked De Comminges.
D’Artagnan’s penetrating gray eyes were opened to the utmost.
“Glad!” he cried; “I should be more than glad! Happy—beyond measure!”
“Well, I am desired by him to give you his compliments and to say that he is in good health.”
D’Artagnan almost leaped with joy. A quick glance conveyed his thought to Porthos: “If Athos knows where we are, if he opens communication with us, before long Athos will act.”
Porthos was not very quick to understand the language of glances, but now since the name of Athos had suggested to him the same idea, he understood.
“Do you say,” asked the Gascon, timidly, “that the Comte de la Fere has commissioned you to give his compliments to Monsieur du Vallon and myself?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you have seen him?”