The soldier resumed his route towards Saint-Mande, his mind occupied with the gentleman who had implored his protection.

Suddenly he thought of his letter, and, looking at his belt, saw that it was no longer there.

D'Artagnan derived no little satisfaction from his sudden, terrified cry.

The poor soldier in the greatest anguish of mind looked round him on every side, and at last, about twenty paces behind him, he perceived the lucky envelope.

He pounced on it like a falcon on its prey.