really wish it?”
“But he is dead; I am sure of it.”
“He was a very contrary fellow and might come back on purpose to have us hanged.”
“All right; if he comes back you will kill him, you are so skillful and so brave.”
“Peste!
my darling! another way of getting hanged.”
“So you refuse my request?”
“To be sure I do — furiously!”
The pretty landlady was desolate. She would have taken D’Artagnan not only as her husband, but as her God, he was so handsome and had so fierce a mustache.