“But wait a minute,” said M. de Tréville, stopping him. “I promised you a letter for the director of the Academy. Are you too proud to accept it, young gentleman?”

“No, sir,” said d’Artagnan; “and I will guard it so carefully that I will be sworn it shall arrive at its address, and woe be to him who shall attempt to take it from me!”

M. de Tréville smiled at this flourish; and leaving his young man compatriot in the embrasure of the window, where they had talked together, he seated himself at a table in order to write the promised letter of recommendation. While he was doing this, d’Artagnan, having no better employment, amused himself with beating a march upon the window and with looking at the musketeers, who went away, one after another, following them with his eyes until they disappeared.