“Ah!” said the sergeant, with a cunning smile, “you are Mazarinists, who are sent as spies.”
“My dear friend,” here Athos spoke, “rest assured, if we were Mazarinists we should come well prepared with every sort of passport. In your situation distrust those who are well provided with every formality.”
“Enter the guardroom,” said the sergeant; “we will lay your case before the commandant of the post.”
The guardroom was filled with citizens and common people, some playing, some drinking, some talking. In a corner, almost hidden from view, were three gentlemen, who had preceded Athos and Aramis, and an officer was examining their passports.