“I have,” replied D’Artagnan. “When I saw you at your château at Bragelonne, I made certain proposals to you which you perfectly understood; instead of answering me as a friend, you played with me as a child; the friendship, therefore, that you boast of was not broken yesterday by the shock of swords, but by your dissimulation at your castle.” “D’Artagnan!” said Athos, reproachfully. “You asked for candor and you have it. You ask what I have against you; I tell you. And I have the same sincerity to show you, if you wish, Monsieur d’Herblay; I acted in a similar way to you and you also deceived me.” “Really, monsieur, you say strange things,” said Aramis. “You came seeking me to make to me certain proposals, but did you make them? No, you sounded me, nothing more. Very well what did I say to you? that Mazarin was contemptible and that I wouldn’t serve Mazarin. But that is all. Did I tell you that I wouldn’t serve any other? On the contrary, I gave you to understand, I think, that I adhered to the princes. We even joked very pleasantly, if I remember rightly, on the very probable contingency of your being charged by the cardinal with my arrest. Were you a party man? There is no doubt of that. Well, why should not we, too, belong to a party? You had your secret and we had ours; we didn’t exchange them. So much the better; it proves that we know how to keep our secrets.” “I do not reproach you, monsieur,” said D’Artagnan; “’tis only because Monsieur de la Fère has spoken of friendship that I question your conduct.” “And what do you find in it that is worthy of blame?” asked Aramis, haughtily. The blood mounted instantly to the temples of D’Artagnan, who arose, and replied: “I consider it worthy conduct of a pupil of Jesuits.” On seeing D’Artagnan rise, Porthos rose also; these four men were therefore all standing at the same time, with a menacing aspect, opposite to each other. Upon hearing D’Artagnan’s reply, Aramis seemed about to draw his sword, when Athos prevented him. “D’Artagnan,” he said, “you are here to-night, still infuriated by yesterday’s adventure. I believed your heart noble enough to enable a friendship of twenty years to overcome an affront of a quarter of an hour. Come, do you really think you have anything to say against me? Say it then; if I am in fault I will avow the error.” The grave and harmonious tones of that beloved voice seemed to have still its ancient influence, whilst that of Aramis, which had become harsh and tuneless in his moments of ill-humor, irritated him. He answered therefore: