“Well!” said D’Artagnan, “you see, then, I have in England friends and property, in France a treasure. If your heart tells you so, I offer them to you. That is what I came here for.”

However firm was his look, he could not this time support the look of Aramis. He allowed, therefore, his eye to stray upon Porthos — like the sword which yields to too powerful a pressure, and seeks another road.

“At all events,” said the bishop, “you have assumed a singular traveling costume, old friend.”

“Frightful! I know it is. You may understand why I would not travel as a cavalier or a noble; since I became rich, I am miserly.”

“And you say, then, you came to Belle-Isle?”