Suddenly the bells rang.
"Midnight!" Aramis turned to them. "We have ten minuets!"
They pressed on, going deeper and deeper into the Bastille.
Anne had returned from the chapel and was pacing in her room. At last she stepped out through some double doors, into the garden. She stopped still.
At the other end of the garden, was D'Artagnan on horseback, waiting. His horse pranced slightly, his hot breath making a rolling steam.
Their eyes met and their gazes held for a long moment.
He had a single red rose in his hand. He raised the rose to his lips and then, never taking his eyes from hers, he leaned down and placed the rose on the stone bench. He rose and held her gaze for a moment more. Then he turned his horse and disappeared.
Tears streamed from Anne's eyes as she ran through the garden. She grabbed the rose and held it like a lifeline. She watched until she could no longer see him. And she prayed to God like she had never prayed before. That she would see him again.
D'Artagnan rode away quickly, never seeing Andre watching him from the shadows. His mind was focused on his destination. The Bastille!
Not long after he passed, the great gates of the palace swung open slowly and a whole platoon of young musketeers rode out. In their midst was Louis.
The three musketeers and Celeste hurried down a flight of stairs, through a corridor and down another stairway.
Suddenly, they came upon a jailer.
"Hey!"
Porthos clubbed him heavily over the back of the head with his fist.
The man fell like a stone.
Celeste grabbed his ring of keys and they hurried on.