Aramis called Bazin, and, after having ordered him to join them at Athos’s residence, said “Let us go then,” at the same time taking his cloak, sword, and three pistols, opening uselessly two or three drawers to see if he could not find stray coin. When well assured this search was superfluous, he followed D’Artagnan, wondering to himself how this young Guardsman should know so well who the lady was to whom he had given hospitality, and that he should know better than himself what had become of her. Only as they went out Aramis placed his hand upon the arm of D’Artagnan, and looking at him earnestly, “You have not spoken of this lady?” said he. “To nobody in the world.” “Not even to Athos or Porthos?” “I have not breathed a syllable to them.” “Good enough!” Tranquil on this important point, Aramis continued his way with D’Artagnan, and both soon arrived at Athos’s dwelling. They found him holding his leave of absence in one hand, and M. de Tréville’s note in the other. “Can you explain to me what signify this leave of absence and this letter, which I have just received?” said the astonished Athos. MY DEAR ATHOS, I wish, as your health absolutely requires it, that you should rest for a fortnight. Go, then, and take the waters of Forges, or any that may be more agreeable to you, and recuperate yourself as quickly as possible. Yours affectionate, DE TRÉVILLE “Well, this leave of absence and that letter mean that you must follow me, Athos.” “To the waters of Forges?” “There or elsewhere.” “In the king’s service?” “Either the king’s or the queen’s. Are we not their Majesties’ servants?” At that moment Porthos entered. “_Pardieu!_” said he, “here is a strange thing! Since when, I wonder, in the Musketeers, did they grant men leave of absence without their asking for it?” “Since,” said D’Artagnan, “they have friends who ask it for them.” “Ah, ah!” said Porthos, “it appears there’s something fresh here.” “Yes, we are going—” said Aramis. “To what country?” demanded Porthos. “My faith! I don’t know much about it,” said Athos. “Ask D’Artagnan.” “To London, gentlemen,” said D’Artagnan. “To London!” cried Porthos; “and what the devil are we going to do in London?” “That is what I am not at liberty to tell you, gentlemen; you must trust to me.” “But in order to go to London,” added Porthos, “money is needed, and I have none.” “Nor I,” said Aramis. “Nor I,” said Athos. “I have,” replied D’Artagnan, pulling out his treasure from his pocket, and placing it on the table. “There are in this bag three hundred pistoles. Let each take seventy-five; that is enough to take us to London and back. Besides, make yourselves easy; we shall not all arrive at London.” “Why so?” “Because, in all probability, some one of us will be left on the road.” “Is this, then, a campaign upon which we are now entering?” “One of a most dangerous kind, I give you notice.”