“But as you spoke to him you must have seen him.”

“Oh, it’s a description you want?”

“Exactly so.”

“A tall, dark man, with black mustaches, dark eyes, and the air of a gentleman.”

“That’s the man!” cried d’Artagnan, “again he, forever he! He is my demon, apparently. And the other?”

“Which?”

“The short one.”

“Oh, he was not a gentleman, I’ll answer for it; besides, he did not wear a sword, and the others treated him with small consideration.”

“Some lackey,” murmured d’Artagnan. “Poor woman, poor woman, what have they done with you?”