Unfortunately, there was one circumstance which created a powerful obstacle to the accomplishment of this threat; which was, as we have related, that his sword had been in his first conflict broken in two, and which he had entirely forgotten. Hence, it resulted when d’Artagnan proceeded to draw his sword in earnest, he found himself purely and simply armed with a stump of a sword about eight or ten inches in length, which the host had carefully placed in the scabbard. As to the rest of the blade, the master had slyly put that on one side to make himself a larding pin.

But this deception would probably not have stopped our fiery young man if the host had not reflected that the reclamation which his guest made was perfectly just.

“But, after all,” said he, lowering the point of his spit, “where is this letter?”

“Yes, where is this letter?” cried d’Artagnan. “In the first place, I warn you that that letter is for M. de Tréville, and it must be found, or if it is not found, he will know how to find it.”