He tore himself from the arms of Porthos and Aramis, and threw himself like a madman on his mistress’s dead body.

Athos rose, walked up to his friend with a slow and solemn step, kissed him tenderly, and as he burst into violent sobs, said to him, with his noble and persuasive voice,

“Friend, be a man! Women weep for the dead; men avenge them!”

And affectionate as a father, consoling as a priest, great as a man who has suffered much, he drew away his friend.

All five, followed by their lackeys leading their horses, took their way to the town of Béthune, the outlying houses of which they saw, and stopped at the first inn to which they came.

“But,” said D’Artagnan, “are we not to pursue that woman?”

“Presently,” said Athos; “I have certain measures to take.”

“She will escape us,” replied the young man—“she will escape us, Athos, and it will be your fault.”

“I will answer for her,” said Athos.

D’Artagnan had such trust in his friend’s word that he bowed his head, and entered the inn without making a reply.

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other, not at all understanding Athos’s confidence.

Lord Winter thought he spoke in this way to assuage D’Artagnan’s sorrow.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Athos, when he had ascertained there were five vacant rooms in the hotel, “let us each retire to his own chamber. D’Artagnan needs to be alone, to weep and to sleep. I take charge of everything. Do not worry.”

“It seems to me, however,” said Lord Winter, “that if there are any measures to be taken against the countess, it concerns me; she is my sister-in-law.”

“Me also!” said Athos; “she is my wife.

D’Artagnan smiled, for he realized that Athos was sure of his vengeance since he revealed such a secret. Porthos and Aramis looked at each other. Lord Winter thought Athos was mad.

“Now, all go to your rooms,” said Athos, “and leave me to act. You must perceive that in my quality of a husband this concerns me. Only, D’Artagnan, if you have not lost it, give me the piece of paper which fell from that man’s hat. The name of the village of—is written on it.”

“Ah!” said D’Artagnan, “I understand now. That name written in her hand—”

“You see,” said Athos, “there is a God in heaven!”