“What! His Greatness is not at home? where is he, then?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes.”
“Whither?”
“I don’t know; but perhaps he tells monsieur le chevalier.”
“And how? where? in what fashion?”
“In this letter, which he gave me for monsieur le chevalier.” And the valet de chambre drew a letter form his pocket.
“Give it me, then, you rascal,” said D’Artagnan, snatching it from his hand. “Oh, yes,” continued he, at the first line, “yes, I understand;” and he read: —