“Nevertheless, I confess I still doubt.”

“But the fleur-de-lis on her shoulder?”

“She is some Englishwoman who has committed a crime in France, and has been branded in consequence.”

“Athos, she is your wife, I tell you,” repeated d’Artagnan; “only reflect how much the two descriptions resemble each other.”

“Yes; but I should think the other must be dead, I hanged her so effectually.”

It was d’Artagnan who now shook his head in his turn.

“But in either case, what is to be done?” said the young man.

“The fact is, one cannot remain thus, with a sword hanging eternally over his head,” said Athos.  “We must extricate ourselves from this position.”

“But how?”

“Listen!  You must try to see her, and have an explanation with her.  Say to her:  ’Peace or war!  My word as a gentleman never to say anything of you, never to do anything against you; on your side, a solemn oath to remain neutral with respect to me.  If not, I will apply to the chancellor, I will apply to the king, I will apply to the hangman, I will move the courts against you, I will denounce you as branded, I will bring you to trial; and if you are acquitted, well, by the faith of a gentleman, I will kill you at the corner of some wall, as I would a mad dog.’”

“I like the means well enough,” said d’Artagnan, “but where and how to meet with her?”

“Time, dear friend, time brings round opportunity; opportunity is the martingale of man.  The more we have ventured the more we gain, when we know how to wait.”

“Yes; but to wait surrounded by assassins and poisoners.”

“Bah!” said Athos.  “God has preserved us hitherto, God will preserve us still.”

“Yes, we.  Besides, we are men; and everything considered, it is our lot to risk our lives; but she,” asked he, in an undertone.

“What she?” asked Athos.

“Constance.”

“Madame Bonacieux!  Ah, that’s true!” said Athos.  “My poor friend, I had forgotten you were in love.”

“Well, but,” said Aramis, “have you not learned by the letter you found on the wretched corpse that she is in a convent?  One may be very comfortable in a convent; and as soon as the siege of La Rochelle is terminated, I promise you on my part—­”

“Good,” cried Athos, “good!  Yes, my dear Aramis, we all know that your views have a religious tendency.”

“I am only temporarily a Musketeer,” said Aramis, humbly.

“It is some time since we heard from his mistress,” said Athos, in a low voice.  “But take no notice; we know all about that.”

“Well,” said Porthos, “it appears to me that the means are very simple.”

“What?” asked d’Artagnan.

“You say she is in a convent?” replied Porthos.

“Yes.”

“Very well.  As soon as the siege is over, we’ll carry her off from that convent.”