dishonor to all the nobility.”
“Fine sport, by Jove!” cried Porthos, with a laugh that shook the windows.
“Are you still bent on departure, Athos?” asked D’Artagnan.
“No, I remain,” replied Athos, with a threatening gesture that promised no good to whomsoever it was addressed.
“Swords, then!” cried Aramis, “swords! let us not lose a moment.”
The four friends resumed their own clothes, girded on their swords, ordered Mousqueton and Blaisois to pay the bill and to arrange everything for immediate departure, and wrapped in their large cloaks left in search of their game.