“Come in, gentlemen, come in,” called d’Artagnan; “you are here in my apartment, and we are all faithful servants of the king and cardinal.”
“Then, gentlemen, you will not oppose our executing the orders we have received?” asked one who appeared to be the leader of the party.
“On the contrary, gentlemen, we would assist you if it were necessary.”
“What does he say?” grumbled Porthos.
“You are a simpleton,” said Athos. “Silence!”
“But you promised me—” whispered the poor mercer.
“We can only save you by being free ourselves,” replied d’Artagnan, in a rapid, low tone; “and if we appear inclined to defend you, they will arrest us with you.”
“It seems, nevertheless—”
“Come, gentlemen, come!” said d’Artagnan, aloud; “I have no motive for defending Monsieur. I saw him today for the first time, and he can tell you on what occasion; he came to demand the rent of my lodging. Is that not true, M. Bonacieux? Answer!”
“That is the very truth,” cried the mercer; “but M. does not tell you—”
“Silence, with respect to me, silence, with respect to my friends; silence about the queen, above all, or you will ruin everybody without saving yourself! Come, come, gentlemen, remove the fellow.” And d’Artagnan pushed the half-stupefied mercer among the guards, saying to him, “You are a shabby old fellow, my dear. You come to demand money of me—of a musketeer! To prison with him! Gentlemen, once more, take