d'Artagnan.

"And me, too!" said Porthos.

"And me, too!" said Aramis.

"Well, if you will have the truth, and me, too!" said Athos.

49 FATALITY

Meantime Milady, drunk with passion, roaring on the deck like a lioness
that has been embarked, had been tempted to throw herself into the
sea that she might regain the coast, for she could not get rid of the
thought that she had been insulted by d'Artagnan, threatened by Athos,
and that she had quit France without being revenged on them. This
idea soon became so insupportable to her that at the risk of whatever
terrible consequences might result to herself from it, she implored the
captain to put her on shore; but the captain, eager to escape from his
false position--placed between French and English cruisers, like the bat
between the mice and the birds--was in great haste to regain England,
and positively refused to obey what he took for a woman's caprice,
promising his passenger, who had been particularly recommended to him by
the cardinal, to land her, if the sea and the French permitted him, at
one of the ports of Brittany, either at Lorient or Brest. But the wind
was contrary, the sea bad; they tacked and kept offshore. Nine days
after leaving the Charente, pale with fatigue and vexation, Milady saw
only the blue coasts of Finisterre appear.

She calculated that to cross this corner of France and return to the
cardinal it would take her at least three days. Add another day for
landing, and that would make four. Add these four to the nine others,
that would be thirteen days lost--thirteen days, during which so many
important events might pass in London. She reflected likewise that the
cardinal would be furious at her return, and consequently would be more
disposed to listen to the complaints brought against her than to the
accusations she brought against others.

She allowed the vessel to pass Lorient and Brest without repeating her
request to the captain, who, on his part, took care not to remind her
of it. Milady therefore continued her voyage, and on the very day
that Planchet embarked at Portsmouth for France, the messenger of his
Eminence entered the port in triumph.

All the city was agitated by an extraordinary movement. Four large
vessels, recently built, had just been launched. At the end of the
jetty, his clothes richly laced with gold, glittering, as was customary
with him, with diamonds and precious stones, his hat ornamented with
a white fea