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"Ah, the bill. Charge it!"
"To whom?"
"The Queen!"
"What, Madame?"
"The same. Adieu, my good Perigord." And the graceful stranger rode away. An interval of quiet succeeded, in which the innkeeper gazed wofully at his wife. Suddenly he was startled by a clatter of hoofs, and an aristocratic figure stood in the doorway.
"Ah," said the courtier good-naturedly. "What, do my eyes deceive me?
No, it is the festive and luxurious Perigord. Perigord, listen. I famish. I languish. I would dine."
The innkeeper again covered the table with viands. Again it was swept clean as the fields of Egypt before the miraculous swarm of locusts.
The stranger looked up.
"Bring me another fowl, my Perigord."
"Impossible, your excellency; the larder is stripped clean."
"Another flitch of bacon, then."
"Impossible, your highness; there is no more."
"Well, then, wine!"
The landlord brought one hundred and forty-four bottles. The courtier drank them all.
"One may drink if one cannot eat," said the aristocratic stranger, good-humoredly.
The innkeeper shuddered.
The guest rose to depart. The innkeeper came slowly forward with his bill, to which he had covertly added the losses which he had suffered from the previous strangers.
"Ah, the bill. Charge it."
"Charge it! to whom?"
"To the King," said the guest.
"What! his Majesty?"
"Certainly. Farewell, Perigord."
The innkeeper groaned. Then he went out and took down his sign. Then remarked to his wife:--
"I am a plain man, and don't understand politics. It seems, however, that the country is in a troubled state. Between his Eminence the Cardinal, his Majesty the King, and her Majesty the Queen, I am a ruined man."
"Stay," said Dame Perigord, "I have an idea."
"And that is--"
"Become yourself a musketeer."
CHAPTER II.
THE COMBAT.
On leaving Provins the first musketeer proceeded to Nangis, where he was reinforced by thirty-three followers. The second musketeer, arriving at Nangis at the same moment, placed himself at the head of thirty-three more. The third guest of the landlord of Provins arrived at Nangis in time to a.s.semble together thirty-three other musketeers.
The first stranger led the troops of his Eminence.
The second led the troops of the Queen.
The third led the troops of the King.
The fight commenced. It raged terribly for seven hours. The first musketeer killed thirty of the Queen's troops. The second musketeer killed thirty of the King's troops. The third musketeer killed thirty of his Eminence's troops.
By this time it will be perceived the number of musketeers had been narrowed down to four on each side.
Naturally the three princ.i.p.al warriors approached each other.
They simultaneously uttered a cry.
"Aramis!"
"Athos!"
"D'Artagnan!"
They fell into each other's arms.
"And it seems that we are fighting against each other, my children,"
said the Count de la Fere, mournfully.
"How singular!" exclaimed Aramis and D'Artagnan.
"Let us stop this fratricidal warfare," said Athos.
"We will!" they exclaimed together.
"But how to disband our followers?" queried D'Artagnan.
Aramis winked. They understood each other. "Let us cut 'em down!"
They cut 'em down. Aramis killed three. D'Artagnan three. Athos three.
The friends again embraced. "How like old times," said Aramis. "How touching!" exclaimed the serious and philosophic Count de la Fere.
