that is nothing; we are well mounted, are we not, Porthos?”

Porthos breathed a sigh; he thought of what was in store for his poor horses.

“Very good,” said D’Artagnan; “and now in what direction did they set out?”

“That I am forbidden to tell.”

D’Artagnan drew from his pocket a paper.

“Order of the king,” he said.

“Speak to the governor, then.”

“And where is the governor?”

“In the country.”

Anger mounted to D’Artagnan’s face; he frowned and his cheeks were colored.