The three friends ordered breakfast, and went into a room in which the host said they would not be disturbed.
Unfortunately, the hour was badly chosen for a private conference.

The morning drum had just been beaten; everyone shook off the drowsiness of night, and to dispel the humid morning air, came to take a drop at the inn.

Dragoons, Swiss, Guardsmen, Musketeers, light-horsemen, succeeded one another with a rapidity which might answer the purpose of the host very well, but agreed badly with the views of the four friends.

Thus they applied very curtly to the salutations, healths, and jokes of their companions.
"I see how it will be," said Athos: "we shall get into some pretty quarrel or other, and we have no need of one just now.

D'Artagnan, tell us what sort of a night you have had, and we will describe ours afterward." "Ah, yes," said a light-horseman, with a glass of brandy in his hand, which he sipped slowly.