“From Tours!” cried Aramis. “A thousand pardons, gentlemen; but no doubt this man brings me the news I expected.” And rising also, he went off at a quick pace. There remained Athos and d’Artagnan.
“I believe these fellows have managed their business. What do you think, d’Artagnan?” said Athos.
“I know that Porthos was in a fair way,” replied d’Artagnan; “and as to Aramis, to tell you the truth, I have never been seriously uneasy on his account. But you, my dear Athos—you, who so generously distributed the Englishman’s pistoles, which were our legitimate property—what do you mean to do?”
“I am satisfied with having killed that fellow, my boy, seeing that it is blessed bread to kill an Englishman; but if I had pocketed his pistoles, they would have weighed me down like a remorse.”
“Go to, my dear Athos; you have truly inconceivable ideas.”
“Let it pass. What do you think of M. de Tréville telling me, when he did me the honor to call upon me yesterday, that you associated with the suspected English, whom the cardinal protects?”
“That is to say, I visit an Englishwoman—the one I named to you.”
“Oh, ay! the fair woman on whose account I gave you advice, which naturally you took care not to adopt.”
“I gave you my reasons.”
“Yes; you look there for your outfit, I think you said.”
“Not at all. I have acquired certain knowledge that that woman was concerned in the abduction of Madame Bonacieux.”