"Oh, oh! sir! you really vilify me!" cried Olivain.
"The deuce!" cried D'Artagnan. "Pray learn, Monsieur Olivain, that people like us are not to be served by cowards. Rob your master, eat his sweetmeats, and drink his wine; but, by Jove! don't be a coward, or I shall cut off your ears. Look at Monsieur Mouston, see the honorable wounds he has received, observe how his habitual valor has given dignity to his countenance."
Musqueton was in the third heaven and would have embraced D'Artagnan had he dared; meanwhile he resolved to sacrifice his life for him on the next occasion that presented itself.
"Send away that fellow, Raoul," said the Gascon; "for if he's a coward he will disgrace thee some day."
"Monsieur says I am coward," cried Olivain, "because he wanted the other day to fight a cornet in Grammont's regiment and I refused to accompany him."
"Monsieur Olivain, a lackey ought never to disobey," said D'Artagnan, sternly; then taking him aside, he whispered to him: "Thou hast done right; thy master was in the wrong; here's a crown for thee, but should he ever be insulted and thou cost not let thyself be cut in quarters for him, I will cut out thy tongue. Remember that."
Olivain bowed and slipped the crown into his pocket.
"And now, Raoul," said the Gascon, "Monsieur du Vallon and I are going away as ambassadors, where, I know not; but should you want anything, write to Madame Turquaine, at La Chevrette, Rue Tiquetonne and draw upon her purse as on a banker -- with economy; for it is not so well filled as that of Monsieur d'Emery."
And having, meantime, embraced his ward, he passed him into the robust arms of Porthos, who lifted him up from the ground and held him a moment suspended near the noble heart of the formidable giant.
"Come," said D'Artagnan, "let us go."
And they set out for Boulogne, where toward evening they arrived, their horses flecked with foam and dark with perspiration.
At ten steps from the place where they halted was a young man in black, who seemed waiting for some one, and who, from the moment he saw them enter the town, never took his eyes off them.
D'Artagnan approached him, and seeing him stare so fixedly, said:
"Well, friend! I don't like people to quiz me!"
"Sir," said the young man, "do you not come from Paris, if you please?"
D'Artagnan thought it was some gossip who wanted news from the capital.
"Yes, sir," he said, in a softened tone.
"Are you not going to put up at the `Arms of England'?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you not charged with a mission from his eminence, Cardinal Mazarin?"
"Yes, sir."
"In that case, I am the man you have to do with. I am M.
Mordaunt."
"Ah!" thought D'Artagnan, "the man I am warned against by Athos."
"Ah!" thought Porthos, "the man Aramis wants me to strangle."
They both looked searchingly at the young man, who misunderstood the meaning of that inquisition.
"Do you doubt my word?" he said. "In that case I can give you proofs."
"No, sir," said D'Artagnan; "and we place ourselves at your orders."
