“My faith! But this is droll,” cried d’Artagnan, consoled, and holding his sides with laughter.
“You may guess, finding the luck turned, that I again staked the diamond.”
“The devil!” said d’Artagnan, becoming angry again.
“I won back your harness, then your horse, then my harness, then my horse, and then I lost again. In brief, I regained your harness and then mine. That’s where we are. That was a superb throw, so I left off there.”
D’Artagnan breathed as if the whole hostelry had been removed from his breast.
“Then the diamond is safe?” said he, timidly.
“Intact, my dear friend; besides the harness of your Bucephalus and mine.”