“You are right. Then they will fancy it is an ambuscade， they will deliberate； and by the time they find out the joke we shall be out of range. That’s why it is useless to get a pleurisy by going too fast.”
“Oh， I understand now，” said the astonished Porthos.
“That’s very lucky，” said Athos， shrugging his shoulders.
The French， seeing the four friends returning leisurely， uttered shouts of enthusiasm.
At length a fresh discharge was heard， and this time the balls came rattling among the stones around the four friends， and whistling sharply in their ears. The Rochellais had just taken possession of the bastion.
“What bunglers！” said Athos. “How many have we killed of them—a dozen？”
“Or fifteen.”
“How many did we crush under the wall？”
“Eight or ten.”
“And in exchange for all that， not a scratch！ Ah！ but what is the matter with your hand， D’Artagnan？ It seems to me it is bleeding.”
“Oh， it’s nothing，” said D’Artagnan.
“A spent ball？”
“Not even that.”
“What is it， then？”
We have said that Athos loved D’Artagnan as though he was his son， and this sombre and inflexible character sometimes felt a parent’s anxiety for the young man.
“Only grazed a little，” replied D’Artagnan. “My fingers were caught between the stone of the wall and the stone of my ring， and the skin was broken.”
“That comes of wearing diamonds， my master，” said Athos disdainfully.
“Ah， to be sure，” cried Porthos； “there is really a diamond. Why the devil， then， do we plague ourselves about money when there is a diamond？”
“Well， then，” said D’Artagnan gaily， “let us sell the diamond， and say no more about it.”
The fusillade was still going on； but the friends were out of range， and the Rochellais only fired to soothe their consciences.
“Faith！ it was time that idea came into Porthos’s head. Here we are in camp； therefore， gentlemen， not a word more of this affair. We are observed； they are coming to meet us； we shall be borne in in triumph.”
In fact， as we have said， the whole camp was in commotion. More than two thousand persons had been present， as at a play， at this fortunate escapade of the four friends—an escapade of the real motive of which no one had a suspicion. Nothing was heard but cries of “Hurrah for the musketeers！ Hurrah for the guards！” M. de Busigny was the first to come and shake Athos by the hand， and acknowledge that the wager was lost. The dragoon and the Swiss followed him， and all their comrades followed the dragoon and the Swiss. There was no end to the congratulations， pressures of the hand， and embraces； there was inextinguishable laughter at the Rochellais. The tumult at length became so great that the cardinal fancied there was a riot， and sent La Houdinière， his captain of the guards， to find out what was going on.
The affair was described to the messenger with all the effervescence of enthusiasm.
“Well？” asked the cardinal， on seeing La Houdinière return.
“Well， monseigneur，” replied the latter， “three musketeers and a guardsman laid a wager with M. de Busigny that they would go and breakfast in the Bastion St. Gervais， and while breakfasting they held it for two hours against the enemy， and have killed I don’t know how many Rochellais.”
“Did you inquire the names of the three musketeers？”
“Yes， monseigneur.”
“What are their names？”
“MM. Athos， Porthos， and Aramis.”
“Always my three brave fellows！” murmured the cardinal. “And the guard？”
“M. d’Artagnan.”
“Still my young scapegrace. Positively， these four men must be mine.”
That same evening the cardinal spoke to M. de Trèville of the morning’s exploit， which was the talk of the whole camp. M. de Tréville， who had received the account of the adventure from the very mouths of the heroes of it， related it in all its details to his Eminence， not forgetting the episode of the napkin.
“Very well， Monsieur de Tréville，” said the cardinal； “pray let me have that napkin. I will have three fleurs-de-lis embroidered on it in gold， and will give it to your company as a standard.”
“Monseigneur，” said M. de Tréville， “that will hardly be doing justice to the guards. M. d’Artagnan is not mine； he serves under M. des Essarts.”
“Well， then， take him，” said the cardinal； “when four men are so much attached to one another， it is only fair that they should serve in the same company.”
That same evening M. de Tréville announced this good news to the three musketeers and D’Artagnan， inviting all four to breakfast with him next morning.
D’Artagnan was beside himself with joy. We know that the dream of his life had been to become a musketeer.
The three friends were likewise greatly delighted.
That evening D’Artagnan went to present his compliments to M. des Essarts， and to inform him of his promotion.
M. des Essarts， who esteemed D’Artagnan， offered to aid him in any way， as this change of corps would entail expenses for outfit.
D’Artagnan respectfully declined， but thinking the opportunity a good one， he begged him to have the diamond he put into his hand valued， as he wished to turn it into money.
By eight o’clock next morning M. des Essarts’s valet came to D’Artagnan’s lodging， and gave him a purse containing seven thousand livres.
This was the price of the queen’s diamond.