The two friends were crouching down, meantime, behind a tub in the side alley.
Mazarin came within three steps of D’Artagnan and pushed a spring in the wall; the slab turned and the orange tree resumed its place.
Then the cardinal put out the waxlight, slipped it into his pocket, and taking up the lantern: “Now,” he said, “for Monsieur de la Fere.”
“Very good,” thought D’Artagnan, “’tis our road likewise; we will go together.”
All three set off on their walk, Mazarin taking the middle alley and the friends the side ones.
The cardinal reached a second door without perceiving he was being followed; the sand with which the alleys were covered deadened the sound of footsteps.
He then turned to the left, down a corridor which had escaped the attention of the two friends, but as he opened the door he paused, as if in thought.
“Ah! Diavolo!” he exclaimed, “I forgot the recommendation of De Comminges, who advised me to take a guard and place it at this door, in order not to put myself at the mercy of that four-headed combination of devils.” And with a movement of impatience he turned to retrace his steps.
“Do not give yourself the trouble, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, with his right foot forward, his beaver in his hand, a smile on his face, “we have followed your eminence step by step and here we are.”
“Yes—here we are,” said Porthos.