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 assemble 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 principal 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. The galloping of hoofs caused them to withdraw from each other’s embraces. A gigantic figure rapidly approached. “The innkeeper of Provins!” they cried, drawing their swords. “Perigord! down with him!” shouted D’Artagnan. “Stay,” said Athos. The gigantic figure was beside them. He uttered a cry. “Athos, Aramis, D’Artagnan!” “Porthos!” exclaimed the astonished trio. “The same.” They all fell in each other’s arms. The Count de la Fere slowly raised his hands to heaven. “Bless you! Bless us, my children! However different our opinion may be in regard to politics, we have but one opinion in regard to our own merits. Where can you find a better man than Aramis?” “Than Porthos?” said Aramis. “Than D’Artagnan?” said Porthos. “Than Athos?” said D’Artagnan. CHAPTER III SHOWING HOW THE KING OF FRANCE WENT UP A LADDER The King descended into the garden. Proceeding cautiously along the terraced walk, he came to the wall immediately below the windows of Madame. To the left were two windows, concealed by vines. They opened into the apartments of La Valliere. The King sighed. “It is about nineteen feet to that window,” said the King. “If I had a ladder about nineteen feet long, it would reach to that window. This is logic.” Suddenly the King stumbled over something. “St. Denis!” he exclaimed, looking down. It was a ladder, just nineteen feet long.