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“Yes,” said the wounded man, who could hardly believe in so much magnanimity, “but isn’t it just to have me hanged?”

“You have my word,” said d’Artagnan, “and I am granting you your life for the second time.”

The wounded man dropped to his knees and once again kissed the feet of his savior. But d’Artagnan, who no longer had any motive for remaining so close to the enemy, cut short the expressions of his gratitude.

The guard who had gone back at the first blast from the Rochelois had announced the death of his four companions. There was thus great astonishment and great joy in the regiment when they saw the young man reappear safe and sound.

D’Artagnan explained his companion’s wound by a sortie of his own improvisation. He told of the death of the other soldier and the dangers they had run. This account was the occasion of a veritable triumph for him. The whole army spoke of the expedition for a day, and Monsieur sent him his compliments on it.

Moreover, as every fair deed brings its own reward, d’Artagnan’s fair deed had the result of restoring to him the tranquillity he had lost. Indeed, d’Artagnan believed he could be tranquil, since, of his two enemies, one was killed and the other was devoted to his interests.

This tranquillity proved one thing: that d’Artagnan did not yet know Milady.

XLII

THE WINE OF ANJOU

After almost despairing news of the king, the rumor of his convalescence began to spread through the camp; and as he was in great haste to come to the siege in person, it was said that, as soon as he could get back on a horse, he would set out on his way again.

During this time, Monsieur, who knew that one day or another he was going to be replaced in his command, either by the duc d’Angoulême, or by Bassompierre or Schomberg,155 who were disputing for the command, did very little, wasted his days in tentative efforts, and did not dare risk any major undertaking to drive the English from the Île de Ré, where they were still besieging the citadel of Saint-Martin and the fort of La Prée, while the French, for their part, were besieging La Rochelle.

D’Artagnan, as we have said, had become more tranquil, as always happens after passing through danger, when the danger seems to have vanished. He had only one worry left, which was that he had had no news of his friends.

But, one morning at the beginning of the month of November, everything was explained to him by this letter, dated from Villeroi:

Monsieur d’Artagnan,

MM. Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, after having a good time at my place and becoming quite lively, made so great a racket that the provost of the castle, a very rigid man, has confined them to barracks for several days. But I am carrying out the orders they gave me to send you a dozen bottles of my Anjou wine, which they made much of. They wish you to drink their health with their favorite wine.

I have done so, and remain, Monsieur, with great respect,

Your most humble and obedient servant,

Godeau,

Hosteler to the gentlemen musketeers

“Excellent!” cried d’Artagnan. “They think of me in their pleasures as I think of them in my troubles. I’ll certainly drink their health, and wholeheartedly, but I won’t drink alone.”

And d’Artagnan ran to two of the guards with whom he had become more friendly than with the others to invite them to drink the delicious little Anjou wine that had just arrived from Villeroi. One of the two guards already had an invitation for that evening, and the other for the next. The gathering was thus set for the day after that.

On returning, d’Artagnan sent the twelve bottles of wine to the guards’ pothouse, ordering that they be carefully kept. Then, on the day of the solemnity, as the dinner hour had been set for noon, d’Artagnan sent Planchet at nine o’clock to prepare everything.

Planchet, quite proud to be raised to the dignity of maître d’hôtel, intended to prepare everything like an intelligent man. To that end, he took on the valet of one of his master’s guests, named Fourreau, and that false soldier who