“My love for you. Speak! Command! What is to be done?”
“My God, my God!” murmured the young woman, “ought I to confide such a secret to you, Monsieur? You are almost a boy.”
“I see that you require someone to answer for me?”
“I admit that would reassure me greatly.”
“Do you know Athos?”
“No.”
“Porthos?”
“No.”
“Aramis?”
“No. Who are these gentleman?”
“Three of the king’s Musketeers. Do you know M. de Tréville, their captain?”
“Oh, yes, him! I know him; not personally, but from having heard the queen speak of him more than once as a brave and loyal gentleman.”
“You do not fear lest he should betray you to the cardinal?”
“Oh, no, certainly not!”
“Well, reveal your secret to him, and ask him whether, however important, however valuable, however terrible it may be, you may not confide it to me.”
“But this secret is not mine, and I cannot reveal it in this manner.”