"Monsieur, you will find me without running after me. Do you understand?"
"And where, if you please?"
"Near Carmes-Deschaux."
"At what hour?"
"Very good. At twelve I will be there."
"And don't be late, for at a quarter-past twelve I will cut off your ears for you."
"All right," called out D'Artagnan, dashing on down-stairs after his man; "you may expect me at ten minutes before the hour."
But he was not to escape so easily. At the street door stood Porthos, talking to a sentry, and between the two men there was barely space for a man to pass. D'Artagnan took it for granted that he could get through, and darted on, swift as an arrow, but he had not reckoned on the gale that was blowing. As he passed, a sudden gust wrapt Porthos's mantle tight round him; and tho the owner of the garment could easily have freed him had he so chosen, for reasons of his own he preferred to draw the folds still closer.
D'Artagnan, hearing the volley of oaths let fall by the musketeers, feared he might have damaged the splendor of the belt, and struggled to unwind himself; but when he at length freed his head, he found that like most things in this world the belt had two sides, and while the front bristled with gold, the back was mere leather; which explains why Porthos always had a cold and could not part from his mantle.