eight fools and their stupid captain. Monsieur Porthos, what do you say to that?”
“I say it is easy enough,” answered Porthos.
“We dress the king in Groslow’s clothes. Mousqueton, Grimaud and Blaisois have our horses saddled at the end of the first street. We mount them and before daylight are twenty leagues distant.”
Athos placed his two hands on D’Artagnan’s shoulders, and gazed at him with his calm, sad smile.
“I declare, my friend,” said he, “that there is not a creature under the sky who equals you in prowess and in courage. Whilst we thought you indifferent to our sorrows, which you couldn’t share without crime, you alone among us