is a miracle that heart has not been dried up
by the wind of poverty which passed through the holes of my cloak, or
pierced by the swords of all shapes which passed through the holes in my
poor flesh."

"Do not regret our friendship," said Athos, "that will only die with
ourselves. Friendship is composed, above all things, of memories and
habits, and if you have just now made a little satire upon mine, because
I hesitate to tell you the nature of my mission into France----"

"Who! I?--Oh! heavens! if you knew, my dear friend, how indifferent all
the missions of the world will henceforth become to me!" And he laid his
hand upon the parchment in his vest pocket.

Athos rose from the table and called the host in order to pay the
reckoning.

"Since I have known you, my friend," said D'Artagnan, "I have never
discharged the reckoning. Porthos often did, Aramis sometimes, and you,
you almost always drew out your purse with the dessert. I am now rich
and should like to try if it is heroic to pay."

"Do so," said Athos; returning his purse to his pocket.

The two friends then directed their steps towards the port, not,
however, without D'Artagnan's frequently turning round to watch the
transportation of his dear crowns. Night had just spread her thick veil
over the yellow waters of the Thames; they heard those noises of casks
and pulleys, the preliminaries of preparing to sail which had so many
times made the hearts of the musketeers beat when the dangers of the sea
were the least of those they were going to face. This time they were
to embark on board a large vessel which awaited them at Gravesend,
and Charles II., always delicate in small matters, had sent one of
his yachts, with twelve men of his Scotch guard, to do honor to the
ambassador he was sending to France. At midnight the yacht had deposited
its passengers on board the vessel, and at eight o'clock in the
morning, the vessel landed the ambassador and his friend on the wharf at
Boulogne. Whilst the comte, with Grimaud, was busy procuring horses
to go straight to Paris, D'Artagnan hastened to the hostelry where,
according to his orders, his little army was to wait for him. These
gentlemen were at breakfast upon oysters, fish, and spiced brandy, when
D'Artagnan appeared. They were all very gay, but not one of them had
yet exceeded the bounds of reason. A hurrah of joy welcomed the general.
"Here I am," said D'Artagnan, "the campaign is ended. I am come to bring