D’Artagnan, who had his eyes fixed upon this man, became very pale, and let his glass fall.

“What is the matter, monsieur?” said Planchet. “Oh, come, gentlemen, my master is ill!”

The three friends hastened toward d’Artagnan, who, instead of being ill, ran toward his horse. They stopped him at the door.

“Well, where the devil are you going now?” cried Athos.

“It is he!” cried d’Artagnan, pale with anger, and with the sweat on his brow, “it is he! let me overtake him!”

“He? What he?” asked Athos.

“He, that man!”

“What man?”