“The devil take Mazarin, who does not know when to sleep at the proper time.
What does he want with me? Is it to make me a captain? In that case I will forgive him.”
And the musketeer rose, grumbling, took his sword, hat, pistols, and cloak, and followed the officer, whilst Porthos, alone and sole possessor of the bed, endeavored to follow the good example of falling asleep, which his predecessor had set him.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal, on perceiving him, “I have not forgotten with what zeal you have served me. I am going to prove to you that I have not.”
“Good,” thought the Gascon, “this is a promising beginning.”