They turned round and saw D’Artagnan, who, with a smiling eye and a cheerful face, had just placed his hand on De Wardes’s shoulder. Raoul stepped back to make room for the musketeer. De Wardes trembled from head to foot, turned pale, but did not move. D’Artagnan, still with the same smile, took the place which Raoul abandoned to him.
“Thank you, my dear Raoul,” he said. “M. de Wardes, I wish to talk with you. Do not leave us Raoul; every one can hear what I have to say to M. de Wardes.” His smile immediately faded away, and his glance became cold and sharp as a sword.
“I am at your orders, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
“For a very long time,” resumed D’Artagnan, “I have sought an opportunity of conversing with you; to-day is the first time I have found it. The place is badly chosen, I admit, but you will perhaps have the goodness to accompany me to my apartments, which are on the staircase at the end of this gallery.”
“I follow you, monsieur,” said De Wardes.
“Are you alone here?” said D’Artagnan.
“No; I have M. Manicamp and M. de Guiche, two of my friends.”
“That’s well,” said D’Artagnan; “but two persons are not sufficient; you will be able to find a few others, I trust.”
“Certainly,” said the young man, who did not know what object D’Artagnan had in view. “As many as you please.”
“Are they friends?”