“My cousin, My sister and I are skillful in interpreting dreams, and even entertain great fear of them; but of yours it may be said, I hope, every dream is an illusion.  Adieu!  Take care of yourself, and act so that we may from time to time hear you spoken of.

“Marie Michon”

“And what dream does she mean?” asked the dragoon, who had approached during the reading.

“Yez; what’s the dream?” said the Swiss.

“Well, pardieu!” said Aramis, “it was only this:  I had a dream, and I related it to her.”

“Yez, yez,” said the Swiss; “it’s simple enough to dell a dream, but I neffer dream.”

“You are very fortunate,” said Athos, rising; “I wish I could say as much!”

“Neffer,” replied the Swiss, enchanted that a man like Athos could envy him anything.  “Neffer, neffer!”

D’Artagnan, seeing Athos rise, did likewise, took his arm, and went out.

Porthos and Aramis remained behind to encounter the jokes of the dragoon and the Swiss.

As to Bazin, he went and lay down on a truss of straw; and as he had more imagination than the Swiss, he dreamed that Aramis, having become pope, adorned his head with a cardinal’s hat.

But, as we have said, Bazin had not, by his fortunate return, removed more than a part of the uneasiness which weighed upon the four friends.  The days of expectation are long, and d’Artagnan, in particular, would have wagered that the days were forty-four hours.  He forgot the necessary slowness of navigation; he exaggerated to himself the power of Milady.  He credited this woman, who appeared to him the equal of a demon, with agents as supernatural as herself; at the least noise, he imagined himself about to be arrested, and that Planchet was being brought back to be confronted with himself and his friends.  Still further, his confidence in the worthy Picard, at one time so great, diminished day by day.  This anxiety became so great that it even extended to Aramis and Porthos.  Athos alone remained unmoved, as if no danger hovered over him, and as if he breathed his customary atmosphere.

On the sixteenth day, in particular, these signs were so strong in d’Artagnan and his two friends that they could not remain quiet in one place, and wandered about like ghosts on the road by which Planchet was expected.

“Really,” said Athos to them, “you are not men but children, to let a woman terrify you so!  And what does it amount to, after all?  To be imprisoned.  Well, but we should be taken out of prison; Madame Bonacieux was released.  To be decapitated?  Why, every day in the trenches we go cheerfully to expose ourselves to worse than that—­for a bullet may break a leg, and I am convinced a surgeon would give us more pain in cutting off a thigh than an executioner in cutting off a head.  Wait quietly, then; in two hours, in four, in six hours at latest, Planchet will be here.  He promised to be here, and I have very great faith in Planchet, who appears to me to be a very good lad.”