, following in that respect
the very judicious example of Athos, who has none any more than I have."

"But what the devil! You are not a priest, you are a Musketeer!"

"A Musketeer for a time, my friend, as the cardinal says, a Musketeer
against my will, but a churchman at heart, believe me. Athos and
Porthos dragged me into this to occupy me. I had, at the moment of being
ordained, a little difficulty with--But that would not interest you, and
I am taking up your valuable time."

"Not at all; it interests me very much," cried d'Artagnan; "and at this
moment I have absolutely nothing to do."

"Yes, but I have my breviary to repeat," answered Aramis; "then some
verses to compose, which Madame d'Aiguillon begged of me. Then I must
go to the Rue St. Honore in order to purchase some rouge for Madame de
Chevreuse. So you see, my dear friend, that if you are not in a hurry, I
am very much in a hurry."

Aramis held out his hand in a cordial manner to his young companion, and
took leave of him.

Notwithstanding all the pains he took, d'Artagnan was unable to learn
any more concerning his three new-made friends. He formed, therefore,
the resolution of believing for the present all that was said of their
past, hoping for more certain and extended revelations in the future. In
the meanwhile, he looked upon Athos as an Achilles, Porthos as an Ajax,
and Aramis as a Joseph.

As to the rest, the life of the four young friends was joyous enough.
Athos played, and that as a rule unfortunately. Nevertheless, he never
borrowed a sou of his companions, although his purse was ever at their
service; and when he had played upon honor, he always awakened his
creditor by six o'clock the next morning to pay the debt of the
preceding evening.

Porthos had his fits. On the days when he won he was insolent and
ostentatious; if he lost, he disappeared completely for several days,
after which he reappeared with a pale face and thinner person, but with
money in his purse.

As to Aramis, he never played. He was the worst Musketeer and the most
unconvivial companion imaginable. He had always something or other
to do. Sometimes in the midst of dinner, when everyone, under the
attraction of wine and in the warmth of conversation, believed they had
two or three hours longer to enjoy themselves at table, Aramis looked at
his watch, arose with a bland smile, and took leave of the company, to
go, as he said, to consult a casuist with whom he had an