D’Artagnan, who for an hour past had been gnawing his nails with impatience, was beginning to attack the quick. The two men in black rose, bowed to Aramis and D’Artagnan, and advanced toward the door. Bazin, who had been standing listening to all this controversy with a pious jubilation, sprang toward them, took the breviary of the curate and the missal of the Jesuit, and walked respectfully before them to clear their way. Aramis conducted them to the foot of the stairs, and then immediately came up again to D’Artagnan, whose senses were still in a state of confusion. When left alone, the two friends at first kept an embarrassed silence. It however became necessary for one of them to break it first, and as D’Artagnan appeared determined to leave that honor to his companion, Aramis said, “you see that I am returned to my fundamental ideas.” “Yes, efficacious grace has touched you, as that gentleman said just now.” “Oh, these plans of retreat have been formed for a long time. You have often heard me speak of them, have you not, my friend?” “Yes; but I confess I always thought you jested.” “With such things! Oh, D’Artagnan!” “The devil! Why, people jest with death.” “And people are wrong, D’Artagnan; for death is the door which leads to perdition or to salvation.” “Granted; but if you please, let us not theologize, Aramis. You must have had enough for today. As for me, I have almost forgotten the little Latin I have ever known. Then I confess to you that I have eaten nothing since ten o’clock this morning, and I am devilish hungry.” “We will dine directly, my friend; only you must please to remember that this is Friday. Now, on such a day I can neither eat flesh nor see it eaten. If you can be satisfied with my dinner—it consists of cooked tetragones and fruits.” “What do you mean by tetragones?” asked D’Artagnan, uneasily. “I mean spinach,” replied Aramis; “but on your account I will add some eggs, and that is a serious infraction of the rule—for eggs are meat, since they engender chickens.” “This feast is not very succulent; but never mind, I will put up with it for the sake of remaining with you.” “I am grateful to you for the sacrifice,” said Aramis; “but if your body be not greatly benefited by it, be assured your soul will.” “And so, Aramis, you are decidedly going into the Church? What will our two friends say? What will Monsieur de Tréville say? They will treat you as a deserter, I warn you.” “I do not enter the Church; I re-enter it. I deserted the Church for the world, for you know that I forced myself when I became a Musketeer.” “I? I know nothing about it.” “You don’t know I quit the seminary?” “Not at all.” “This is my story, then. Besides, the Scriptures say, ‘Confess yourselves to one another,’ and I confess to you, D’Artagnan.” “And I give you absolution beforehand. You see I am a good sort of a man.” “Do not jest about holy things, my friend.” “Go on, then, I listen.”