cardinal? You are quite upset! Come, come, tell me; I am dying with curiosity and uneasiness!”
“Athos,” said d’Artagnan, getting rid of his female garments, and appearing in his shirt, “prepare yourself to hear an incredible, an unheard-of story.”
“Well, but put on this dressing gown first,” said the musketeer to his friend.
D’Artagnan donned the robe as quickly as he could, mistaking one sleeve for the other, so greatly was he still agitated.
“Well?” said Athos.
“Well,” replied d’Artagnan, bending his mouth to Athos’s ear, and lowering his voice, “Milady is marked with a fleur-de-lis upon her shoulder!”
“Ah!” cried the musketeer, as if he had received a ball in his heart.
“Let us see,” said d’Artagnan. “Are you sure that the other is dead?”
“ The other? ” said Athos, in so stifled a voice that d’Artagnan scarcely heard him.
“Yes, she of whom you told me one day at Amiens.”
Athos uttered a groan, and let his head sink on his hands.
“This is a woman of twenty-six or twenty-eight years.”
“Fair,” said Athos, “is she not?”
“Very.”