On arriving at the lodgings of his three friends, d'Artagnan found them assembled in the same chamber.

Athos was meditating; Porthos was twisting his mustache; Aramis was saying his prayers in a charming little Book of Hours, bound in blue velvet.
"Pardieu, gentlemen," said he.

"I hope what you have to tell me is worth the trouble, or else, I warn you, I will not pardon you for making me come here instead of getting a little rest after a night spent in taking and dismantling a bastion.

Ah, why were you not there, gentlemen?
It was warm work." "We were in a place where it was not very cold," replied Porthos, giving his mustache a twist which was peculiar to him.
"Hush!" said Athos.
"Oh, oh!" said d'Artagnan, comprehending the slight frown of the Musketeer.

"It appears there is something fresh aboard." "Aramis," said Athos, "you went to breakfast the day before yesterday at the inn of the Parpaillot, I believe ?" "Yes." "How did you fare ?" "For my part, I ate but little.