“Well, from whom?”

“From Mademoiselle — de — ”

“Out with it!”

“De Laval.”

“That is quite sufficient,” interrupted Porthos. “I believe you, monsieur le comte.”

Saint-Aignan dismissed the valet, and followed him to the door, in order to close it after him; and when he had done so, looking straight before him, he happened to see in the keyhole of the adjoining apartment the paper which Bragelonne had slipped in there as he left. “What is this?” he said.

Porthos, who was sitting with his back to the room, turned round. “Aha!” he said.