“Well, of the four horses of our lackeys we will make two for the masters, for which we will draw lots. With the four hundred livres we will make the half of one for one of the unmounted, and then we will give the turnings out of our pockets to D’Artagnan, who has a steady hand, and will go and play in the first gaming house we come to. There!” “Let us dine, then,” said Porthos; “it is getting cold.” The friends, at ease with regard to the future, did honor to the repast, the remains of which were abandoned to Mousqueton, Bazin, Planchet, and Grimaud. On arriving in Paris, D’Artagnan found a letter from M. de Tréville, which informed him that, at his request, the king had promised that he should enter the company of the Musketeers. As this was the height of D’Artagnan’s worldly ambition—apart, be it well understood, from his desire of finding Mme. Bonacieux—he ran, full of joy, to seek his comrades, whom he had left only half an hour before, but whom he found very sad and deeply preoccupied. They were assembled in council at the residence of Athos, which always indicated an event of some gravity. M. de Tréville had intimated to them his Majesty’s fixed intention to open the campaign on the first of May, and they must immediately prepare their outfits. The four philosophers looked at one another in a state of bewilderment. M. de Tréville never jested in matters relating to discipline. “And what do you reckon your outfit will cost?” said D’Artagnan. “Oh, we can scarcely say. We have made our calculations with Spartan economy, and we each require fifteen hundred livres.” “Four times fifteen makes sixty—six thousand livres,” said Athos. “It seems to me,” said D’Artagnan, “with a thousand livres each—I do not speak as a Spartan, but as a procurator—” This word _procurator_ roused Porthos. “Stop,” said he, “I have an idea.” “Well, that’s something, for I have not the shadow of one,” said Athos coolly; “but as to D’Artagnan, gentlemen, the idea of belonging to _ours_ has driven him out of his senses. A thousand livres! For my part, I declare I want two thousand.” “Four times two makes eight,” then said Aramis; “it is eight thousand that we want to complete our outfits, toward which, it is true, we have already the saddles.” “Besides,” said Athos, waiting till D’Artagnan, who went to thank Monsieur de Tréville, had shut the door, “besides, there is that beautiful ring which beams from the finger of our friend. What the devil! D’Artagnan is too good a comrade to leave his brothers in embarrassment while he wears the ransom of a king on his finger.” Chapter XXIX. HUNTING FOR THE EQUIPMENTS