“That is it, my son.”
The young king slowly raised his little hand and held it out to the musketeer; the latter bent on his knee and kissed it.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” repeated Louis; “very well, madame.”
At this moment they were startled by a noise as if a tumult were approaching.
“What is that?” exclaimed the queen.
“Oh, oh!” replied D’Artagnan, straining both at the same time his quick ear and his intelligent glance, “it is the murmur of the populace in revolution.”
“We must fly,” said the queen.