“It was I who was going to shoot you, and if the governor missed you, I should not have missed you, my dear friends. How fortunate it is that I am accustomed to take a long aim, instead of firing at the instant I raise my weapon! I thought I recognized you. Ah! my dear friends, how fortunate!” And D’Artagnan wiped his brow, for he had run fast, and emotion with him was not feigned.
“How!” said Athos. “And is the gentleman who fired at us the governor of the fortress?”
“In person.”
“And why did he fire at us? What have we done to him?”
“Pardieu! You received what the prisoner threw to you?”
“That is true.”
“That plate—the prisoner has written something on it, has he not?”
“Yes.”
“Good heavens! I was afraid he had.”
And D’Artagnan, with all the marks of mortal disquietude, seized the plate, to read the inscription. When he had read it, a fearful pallor spread across his countenance. “Oh! good heavens!” repeated he. “Silence!—Here is the governor.”