M. de Tréville entertained good company, wholly anticardinalist, though. It may easily be understood, therefore, that the conversation during the whole of dinner turned upon the two checks that his Eminence’s Guardsmen had received. Now, as d’Artagnan had been the hero of these two fights, it was upon him that all the felicitations fell, which Athos, Porthos, and Aramis abandoned to him, not only as good comrades, but as men who had so often had their turn that they could very well afford him his.
Toward six o’clock M. de Tréville announced that it was time to go to the Louvre; but as the hour of audience granted by His Majesty was past, instead of claiming the entrée by the back stairs, he placed himself with the four young men in the antechamber. The king had not yet returned from hunting. Our young men had been waiting about half an hour, amid a crowd of courtiers, when all the doors were thrown open, and His Majesty was announced.
At his announcement d’Artagnan felt himself tremble to the very marrow of his bones. The coming instant would in all probability decide the rest of his life. His eyes therefore were fixed in a sort of agony upon the door through which the king must enter.
Louis XIII appeared, walking fast. He was in hunting costume covered with dust, wearing large boots, and holding a whip in his hand. At the first glance, d’Artagnan judged that the mind of the king was stormy.
This disposition, visible as it was in His Majesty, did not prevent the courtiers from ranging themselves along his pathway. In royal antechambers it is worth more to be viewed with an angry eye than not to be seen at all. The three musketeers therefore did not hesitate to make a step forward. D’Artagnan on the contrary remained concealed behind them; but although the king knew Athos, Porthos, and Aramis