“What! his Majesty?”
“Certainly. Farewell, Perigord.”
The innkeeper groaned. Then he went out and took down his sign. Then remarked to his wife,—
“I am a plain man, and don’t understand politics. It seems, however, that the country is in a troubled state. Between his Eminence the Cardinal, his Majesty the King, and her Majesty the Queen, I am a ruined man.”
“Stay,” said Dame Perigord, “I have an idea.”
“And that is”—
“Become yourself a musketeer.”
CHAPTER II
THE COMBAT