Then, leaning over the banister of the staircase, of which Aramis was beginning to ascend the first steps,—
“Ah, dear friend!” said he, “you, so soon!”
“Yes; I, myself, monsieur! but bruised, battered, as you see.”
“Oh! my poor friend,” said Fouquet, presenting him his arm, on which Aramis leant, whilst the servants drew back respectfully.
“Bah!” replied Aramis, “it is nothing, since I am here; the principal thing was that I should get here, and here I am.”
“Speak quickly,” said Fouquet, closing the door of the cabinet behind Aramis and himself.
“Are we alone?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
“No one observes us?—no one can hear us?”
“Be satisfied; nobody.”