Those were times in which everybody traveled, but in which, notwithstanding, a journey of a hundred leagues was a problem often solved by death.
"From the land of oranges ?" cried Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.

"From Spain ?" "Eh! eh!" said the musketeer.
"From Malta ?" echoed Montalais.
"_Ma foi!_ You are coming very near, ladies." "Is it an island ?" asked La Valliere.
"Mademoiselle," said D'Artagnan; "I will not give you the trouble of seeking any further; I come from the country where M.de Beaufort is, at this moment, embarking for Algiers." "Have you seen the army ?" asked several warlike fair ones.
"As plainly as I see you," replied D'Artagnan.
"And the fleet ?" "Yes, I saw everything." "Have we any of us any friends there ?" said Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, coldly, but in a manner to attract attention to a question that was not without its calculated aim.
"Why," replied D'Artagnan, "yes; there were M.de la Guillotiere, M.de Manchy, M.de Bragelonne--" La Valliere became pale.

"M.

de Bragelonne!" cried the perfidious Athenais.

"Eh, what!--is he gone to the wars ?--he!" Montalais trod on her toe, but all in vain.
"Do you know what my opinion is ?" continued she, addressing D'Artagnan.
"No, mademoiselle; but I should like very much to know it." "My opinion is, then, that all the men who go to this war are desperate, desponding men, whom love has treated ill; and who go to try if they cannot find jet-complexioned women more kind than fair ones have been." Some of the ladies laughed; La Valliere was evidently confused; Montalais coughed loud enough to waken the dead.
"Mademoiselle," interrupted D'Artagnan, "you are in error when you speak of black women at Gigelli; the women there have not jet faces; it is true they are not white--they are yellow." "Yellow!" exclaimed the bevy of fair beauties.
"Eh! do not disparage it.