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The Journey

           Omertheybreathedtheirhorseswiththebridlespassedundertheirarmsforfearofaccident,andateamorselfromtheirhandsonthestonesofthestreet,aftertheydepartedagain.

           AtahundredpacesfromthegatesofCalais,d’Artagnan’shorsegaveout,andcouldnotbyanymeansbemadetogetupagain,thebloodflowingfromhiseyesandhisnose.TherestillremainedPlanchet’shorse;buthestoppedshort,andcouldnotbemadetomoveastep.

           Fortunately,aswehavesaid,theywerewithinahundredpacesofthecity;theylefttheirtwonagsuponthehighroad,andrantowardthequay.Planchetcalledhismaster’sattentiontoagentlemanwhohadjustarrivedwithhislackey,andonlyprecededthembyaboutfiftypaces.Theymadeallspeedtocomeuptothisgentleman,whoappearedtobeingreathaste.Hisbootswerecoveredwithdust,andheinquiredifhecouldnotinstantlycrossovertoEngland.

           "Nothingwouldbemoreeasy,"saidthecaptainofavesselreadytosetsail,"butthismorningcameanordertoletnooneleavewithoutexpresspermissionfromthecardinal."

           "Ihavethatpermission,"saidthegentleman,drawingthepaperfromhispocket;"hereitis."

           "Haveitexaminedbythegovernoroftheport,"saidtheshipmaster,"andgivemethepreference."

           "WhereshallIfindthegovernor?"

           "Athiscountryhouse."

           "Andthatissituated?"

           "Ataquarterofaleaguefromthecity.Look,youmayseeitfromhereatthefootofthatlittlehill,thatslatedroof."

           "Verywell,"saidthegentleman.

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Roboto Lora
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