e is the sand upon which we
were reclining? Whose is that letter of your mistress? Do these belong
to the cardinal? Upon my honor, this man fancies the world belongs to
him. There you stood, stammering, stupefied, annihilated. One might have
supposed the Bastille appeared before you, and that the gigantic Medusa
had converted you into stone. Is being in love conspiring? You are in
love with a woman whom the cardinal has caused to be shut up, and you
wish to get her out of the hands of the cardinal. That's a match you
are playing with his Eminence; this letter is your game. Why should you
expose your game to your adversary? That is never done. Let him find it
out if he can! We can find out his!"

"Well, that's all very sensible, Athos," said d'Artagnan.

"In that case, let there be no more question of what's past, and let
Aramis resume the letter from his cousin where the cardinal interrupted
him."

Aramis drew the letter from his pocket; the three friends surrounded
him, and the three lackeys grouped themselves again near the wine jar.

"You had only read a line or two," said d'Artagnan; "read the letter
again from the commencement."

"Willingly," said Aramis.

"My dear Cousin, I think I shall make up my mind to set out for Bethune,
where my sister has placed our little servant in the convent of the
Carmelites; this poor child is quite resigned, as she knows she cannot
live elsewhere without the salvation of her soul being in danger.
Nevertheless, if the affairs of our family are arranged, as we hope
they will be, I believe she will run the risk of being damned, and will
return to those she regrets, particularly as she knows they are always
thinking of her. Meanwhile, she is not very wretched; what she most
desires is a letter from her intended. I know that such viands pass with
difficulty through convent gratings; but after all, as I have given you
proofs, my dear cousin, I am not unskilled in such affairs, and I will
take charge of the commission. My sister thanks you for your good and
eternal remembrance. She has experienced much anxiety; but she is now at
length a little reassured, having sent her secretary away in order that
nothing may happen unexpectedly.

"Adieu, my dear cousin. Tell us news of yourself as often as you can;
that is to say, as often as you can with safety. I embrace you.

"Marie Michon."

"Oh, what do I not owe you, Aramis?" said d'Artagnan. "Dear Constance!
I have at length, then, int