Monsieur du Vallon,” added the other.
“You will see what a fellow he is; a man who nearly killed Mazarin between two doors. They employ him because they are afraid of him. Ah, there he is calling me now. You’ll excuse me, I know.”
They exchanged bows and D’Artagnan returned to his companions.
“What on earth can you have been saying to that bulldog?” exclaimed Porthos.
“My dear fellow, don’t speak like that of Monsieur Groslow. He’s one of my most intimate friends.”
“One of your friends!” cried Porthos, “this butcher of unarmed farmers!”
“Hush! my dear