Adieu, gentlemen!" And remounting his horse, which Cahusac led to him, he saluted them with his hand, and rode away.
The four young men, standing and motionless, followed him with their eyes without speaking a single word until he had disappeared.

Then they looked at one another.
The countenances of all gave evidence of terror, for notwithstanding the friendly adieu of his Eminence, they plainly perceived that the cardinal went away with rage in his heart.
Athos alone smiled, with a self-possessed, disdainful smile.
When the cardinal was out of hearing and sight, "That Grimaud kept bad watch!" cried Porthos, who had a great inclination to vent his ill-humor on somebody.
Grimaud was about to reply to excuse himself.

Athos lifted his finger, and Grimaud was silent.
"Would you have given up the letter, Aramis ?" said d'Artagnan.
"I," said Aramis, in his most flutelike tone, "I had made up my mind.
If he had insisted upon the letter being given up to him, I would have presented the letter to him with one hand, and with the other I would have run my sword through his body." "I expected as much," said Athos; "and that was why I threw myself between you and him.

Indeed, this man is very much to blame for talking thus to other men; one would say he had never had to do with any but women and children." "My dear Athos, I admire you, but nevertheless we were in the wrong, after all." "How, in the wrong ?" said Athos.

"Whose, then, is the air we breathe?
Whose is the ocean upon which we look?
Whose is the sand upon which we were reclining?
Whose is that letter of your mistress?
Do these belong to the cardinal?
Upon my honor, this man fancies the world belongs to him.