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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 757/849
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"
My
faith
,
monsieur
,
with
great
pleasure
!
Here
it
is
!
"
The
hostler
,
enchanted
with
the
good
day
's
work
he
had
done
,
returned
to
the
yard
.
D'Artagnan
unfolded
the
paper
.
"
Well
?
"
eagerly
demanded
all
his
three
friends
.
"
Nothing
but
one
word
!
"
said
d'Artagnan
.
"
Yes
,
"
said
Aramis
,
"
but
that
one
word
is
the
name
of
some
town
or
village
"
"
Armentieres
,
"
read
Porthos
;
"
Armentieres
?
I
do
n't
know
such
a
place
.
"
"
And
that
name
of
a
town
or
village
is
written
in
her
hand
!
"
cried
Athos
.
"
Come
on
,
come
on
!
"
said
d'Artagnan
;
"
let
us
keep
that
paper
carefully
,
perhaps
I
have
not
thrown
away
my
half-pistole
.
To
horse
,
my
friends
,
to
horse
!
"
And
the
four
friends
flew
at
a
gallop
along
the
road
to
Bethune
.
Great
criminals
bear
about
them
a
kind
of
predestination
which
makes
them
surmount
all
obstacles
,
which
makes
them
escape
all
dangers
,
up
to
the
moment
which
a
wearied
Providence
has
marked
as
the
rock
of
their
impious
fortunes
.
