In one of those halts he heard the steps of several horses on the road. He had no doubt it was the cardinal and his escort. He immediately made a new point in advance, rubbed his horse down with some heath and leaves of trees, and placed himself across the road, about two hundred paces from the camp.

“Who goes there?” cried he, as soon as he perceived the horsemen.

“That is our brave musketeer, I think,” said the cardinal.

“Yes, monseigneur,” said Porthos, “it is he.”

“Monsieur Athos,” said Richelieu, “receive my thanks for the good guard you have kept. Gentlemen, we are arrived; take the gate on the left. The watchword is, ‘King and Ré.’ ”

Saying these words, the cardinal saluted the three friends with an inclination of his head, and took the right hand, followed by his attendant⁠—for that night he himself slept in the camp.