he murmured, absorbed in thought. Porthos left him to his reflections; but after a while returned to the mission he had undertaken.

“Shall we return to our little affair?” Porthos resumed, addressing Saint-Aignan after a brief pause.

“I think I can now understand it, from this note, which has arrived here in so singular a manner. Monsieur de Bragelonne says that a friend will call.”

“I am his friend.

I am the person he alludes to.”

“For the purpose of giving me a challenge?”

“Precisely.”

“And he complains that I have insulted him?”