Athos shook his head.
“Alas! I would it were so. But blood must flow. It is ever our fate to spill it. Two gentlemen must die to-night; we owe it to the Master.”
“Their names?” cried Aramis.
“Messieurs Sydney Grundy and Henry Hamilton.”
A look of terrible meaning flashed from eye to eye, and the avengers clasped each other’s hands.
Then Porthos flung two pistoles upon the table, and arm-in-arm the musketeers clanged and clashed out of the Criterion, to the relief of everybody present.
Their lackeys awaited them.
Mousqueton and Grimaud were directed to go into the pit of the theatre and join their masters on the stage at the critical moment; while Planchet and Bazin were to have the horses in readiness at the stage-door.
“And now?” said Porthos.
“Pardieu! To Her Majesty’s Theatre!” answered D’Artagnan.