“She is called Milady, but she may be French. Lord de Winter is only her brother-in-law.” “I will see her, D’Artagnan!” “Beware, Athos, beware. You tried to kill her; she is a woman to return you the like, and not to fail.” “She will not dare to say anything; that would be to denounce herself.” “She is capable of anything or everything. Did you ever see her furious?” “No,” said Athos. “A tigress, a panther! Ah, my dear Athos, I am greatly afraid I have drawn a terrible vengeance on both of us!” D’Artagnan then related all—the mad passion of Milady and her menaces of death. “You are right; and upon my soul, I would give my life for a hair,” said Athos. “Fortunately, the day after tomorrow we leave Paris. We are going according to all probability to La Rochelle, and once gone—” “She will follow you to the end of the world, Athos, if she recognizes you. Let her, then, exhaust her vengeance on me alone!” “My dear friend, of what consequence is it if she kills me?” said Athos. “Do you, perchance, think I set any great store by life?” “There is something horribly mysterious under all this, Athos; this woman is one of the cardinal’s spies, I am sure of that.” “In that case, take care! If the cardinal does not hold you in high admiration for the affair of London, he entertains a great hatred for you; but as, considering everything, he cannot accuse you openly, and as hatred must be satisfied, particularly when it’s a cardinal’s hatred, take care of yourself. If you go out, do not go out alone; when you eat, use every precaution. Mistrust everything, in short, even your own shadow.” “Fortunately,” said D’Artagnan, “all this will be only necessary till after tomorrow evening, for when once with the army, we shall have, I hope, only men to dread.” “In the meantime,” said Athos, “I renounce my plan of seclusion, and wherever you go, I will go with you. You must return to the Rue des Fossoyeurs; I will accompany you.” “But however near it may be,” replied D’Artagnan, “I cannot go thither in this guise.” “That’s true,” said Athos, and he rang the bell. Grimaud entered. Athos made him a sign to go to D’Artagnan’s residence, and bring back some clothes. Grimaud replied by another sign that he understood perfectly, and set off. “All this will not advance your outfit,” said Athos; “for if I am not mistaken, you have left the best of your apparel with Milady, and she will certainly not have the politeness to return it to you. Fortunately, you have the sapphire.” “The jewel is yours, my dear Athos! Did you not tell me it was a family jewel?” “Yes, my grandfather gave two thousand crowns for it, as he once told me. It formed part of the nuptial present he made his wife, and it is magnificent. My mother gave it to me, and I, fool as I was, instead of keeping the ring as a holy relic, gave it to this wretch.” “Then, my friend, take back this ring, to which I see you attach much value.”