during which the queen pressed her hand to her side, evidently to still the beatings of her heart.
(“Porthos,” murmured D’Artagnan, “look well at that priest.”
“Yes,” said Porthos, “I see him. What then?”
“Well, he is a man.”
Porthos looked at D’Artagnan in astonishment.
Evidently he did not understand his meaning.)
“Your majesty,” continued the coadjutor, pitilessly, “is about to take such measures as seem good to you, but I foresee that they will be violent and such as will still further exasperate the rioters.