we may say. Are our lackeys sufficiently
devoted to us to risk their lives for us? No."

"My faith," said d'Artagnan. "I would almost answer for Planchet."

"Well, my dear friend, add to his natural devotedness a good sum of
money, and then, instead of answering for him once, answer for him
twice."

"Why, good God! you will be deceived just the same," said Athos, who was
an optimist when things were concerned, and a pessimist when men were in
question. "They will promise everything for the sake of the money, and
on the road fear will prevent them from acting. Once taken, they will be
pressed; when pressed, they will confess everything. What the devil!
we are not children. To reach England"--Athos lowered his voice--"all
France, covered with spies and creatures of the cardinal, must be
crossed. A passport for embarkation must be obtained; and the party must
be acquainted with English in order to ask the way to London. Really, I
think the thing very difficult."

"Not at all," cried d'Artagnan, who was anxious the matter should be
accomplished; "on the contrary, I think it very easy. It would be, no
doubt, parbleu, if we write to Lord de Winter about affairs of vast
importance, of the horrors of the cardinal--"

"Speak lower!" said Athos.

"--of intrigues and secrets of state," continued d'Artagnan, complying
with the recommendation. "There can be no doubt we would all be broken
on the wheel; but for God's sake, do not forget, as you yourself said,
Athos, that we only write to him concerning a family affair; that we
only write to him to entreat that as soon as Milady arrives in London
he will put it out of her power to injure us. I will write to him, then,
nearly in these terms."

"Let us see," said Athos, assuming in advance a critical look.

"Monsieur and dear friend--"

"Ah, yes! Dear friend to an Englishman," interrupted Athos; "well
commenced! Bravo, d'Artagnan! Only with that word you would be quartered
instead of being broken on the wheel."

"Well, perhaps. I will say, then, Monsieur, quite short."

"You may even say, My Lord," replied Athos, who stickled for propriety.

"My Lord, do you remember the little goat pasture of the Luxembourg?"

"Good, the Luxembourg! One might believe this is an allusion to the
queen-mother! That's ingenious," said Athos.

"Well, then, we will put simply, My Lord, do you remember a certain
little enclosure where your life was spared?"

"My dear d'Artagnan, you will nev