Before taking his place at table, D'Artagnan acquired, aswas his custom, all the information he could; but it is anaxiom of curiosity, that every man who wishes to questionwell and fruitfully ought in the first place to lay himselfopen to questions. D'Artagnan sought, then, with his usualskill, a promising questioner in the hostelry of LaRoche-Bernard. At the moment, there were in the house, onthe first story, two travelers either preparing for supper,or at supper itself. D'Artagnan had seen their nags in thestable, and their equipages in the salle. One traveled witha lackey, undoubtedly a person of consideration; - twoPerche mares, sleek, sound beasts, were suitable means oflocomotion. The other, a little fellow, a traveler of meagreappearance, wearing a dusty surtout, dirty linen, and bootsmore worn by the pavement than the stirrup, had come fromNantes with a cart drawn by a horse so like Furet in color,that D'Artagnan might have gone a hundred miles withoutfinding a better match. This cart contained divers largepackets wrapped in pieces of old stuff.

"That traveler yonder," said D'Artagnan to himself, "is theman for my money. He will do, he suits me; I ought to do forand suit him; M. Agnan, with the gray doublet and the rustycalotte, is not unworthy of supping with the gentleman ofthe old boots and still older horse."

This said, D'Artagnan called the host, and desired him tosend his teal, tourteau, and cider up to the chamber of thegentleman of modest exterior. He himself climbed, a plate inhis hand, the wooden staircase which led to the chamber, andbegan to knock at the door.

"Come in!" said the unknown. D'Artagnan entered, with asimper on his lips, his plate under his arm, his hat in onehand, his candle in the other.

"Excuse me, monsieur," said he, "I am, as you are, atraveler; I know no one in the hotel, and I have the badhabit of losing my spirits when I eat alone, so that myrepast appears a bad one to me, and does not nourish me.Your face, which I saw just now, when you came down to havesome oysters opened, - your face pleased me much. Besides,I have observed you have a horse just like mine, and thatthe host, no doubt on account of that resemblance, hasplaced them side by side in the stable, where they appear toagree amazingly well together. I therefore, monsieur, do notsee any reason why the masters should be separated when thehorses are united. Accordingly, I am come to request thepleasure of being admitted to your table. My name is Agnan,at your service, monsieur, the unworthy steward of a richseigneur, who wishes to purchase some salt-mines in thiscountry, and sends me to examine his future acquisitions. Intruth, monsieur, I should be well pleased if my countenancewere as agreeable to you as yours is to me; for, upon myhonor, I am quite at your service."

The stranger, whom D'Artagnan saw for the first time - forbefore he had only caught a glimpse of him, - the strangerhad black and brilliant eyes, a yellow complexion, a brow alittle wrinkled by the weight of fifty years, bonhomie inhis features collectively, but some cunning in his look.

"One would say," thought D'Artagnan, "that this merry fellowhas never exercised more than the upper part of his head,his eyes, and his brain. He must be a man of science: hismouth, nose, and chin signify absolutely nothing."

"Monsieur," replied the latter, with whose mind and personwe have been making so free, "you do me much honor; not thatI am ever ennuye, for I have," added he, smiling, "a companywhich amuses me always; but never mind that, I am very happyto receive you." But when saying this, the man with the wornboots cast an uneasy look at his table, from which theoysters had disappeared, and upon which there was nothingleft but a morsel of salt bacon.

"Monsieur," D'Artagnan hastened to say, "the host isbringing me up a pretty piece of roasted poultry and asuperb tourteau." D'Artagnan had read in the look of hiscompanion, however rapid it disappeared, the fear of anattack by a parasite: he divined justly. At this opening,the features of the man of modest exterior relaxed; and, asif he had watched the moment for his entrance, as D'Artagnanspoke, the host appeared, bearing the announced dishes. Thetourteau and the teal were added to the morsel of broiledbacon; D'Artagnan and his guest bowed, sat down opposite toeach other, and, like two brothers, shared the bacon and theother dishes.

"Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "you must confess thatassociation is a wonderful thing."

"How so?" replied the stranger, with his mouth full.

"Well, I will tell you," replied D'Artagnan.

The stranger gave a short truce to the movement of his jaws,in order to hear the better.

"In the first place," continued D'Artagnan, "instead of onecandle, which each of us had, we have two."

"That is true!" said the stranger, struck with the extremelucidity of the observation.

"Then I see that you eat my tourteau in preference, whilstI, in preference, eat your bacon."

"That is true again."

"And then, in addition to being better lighted and eatingwhat we prefer, I place the pleasure of your company."

"Truly, monsieur, you are very jovial," said the unknown,cheerfully.

"Yes, monsieur; jovial, as all people are who carry nothingon their minds, or, for that matter, in their heads. Oh! Ican see it is quite another sort of thing with you,"continued D'Artagnan; "I can read in your eyes all sorts ofgenius."

"Oh, monsieur!"

"Come, confess one thing."

"What is that?"

"That you are a learned man."

"Ma foi! monsieur."

"Hein?"

"Almost."

"Come, then!"

"I am an author."

"There!" cried D'Artagnan, clapping his hands, "I knew Icould not be deceived! It is a miracle!"

"Monsieur - - "

"What, shall I have the honor of passing the evening in thesociety of an author, of a celebrated author perhaps?"

"Oh!" said the unknown, blushing, "celebrated, monsieur,celebrated is not the word."

"Modest!" cried D'Artagnan, transported, "he is modest!"Then, turning towards the stranger, with a character ofblunt bonhomie: "But tell me at least the name of yourworks, monsieur; for you will please to observe you have nottold me your name, and I have been forced to divine yourgenius."

"My name is Jupenet, monsieur," said the author.

"A fine name! a grand name! upon my honor; and I do not knowwhy - pardon me the mistake, if it be one - but surely Ihave heard that name somewhere."

"I have made verses," said the poet modestly.

"Ah! that is it, then, I have heard them read."

"A tragedy."

"I must have seen it played."

The poet blushed again, and said: "I do not think that canbe the case, for my verses have never been printed."

"Well, then, it must have been the tragedy which informed meof your name."

"You are again mistaken, for MM. the comedians of the Hotelde Bourgogne, would have nothing to do with it," said thepoet, with a smile, the receipt for which certain sorts ofpride alone knew the secret. D'Artagnan bit his lips. "Thus,then, you see, monsieur," continued the poet, "you are inerror on my account, and that not being at all known to you,you have never heard tell of me."

"Ah! that confounds me. That name, Jupenet, appears to me,nevertheless, a fine name, and quite as worthy of beingknown as those of MM. Corneille, or Rotrou, or Garnier. Ihope, monsieur, you will have the goodness to repeat to me apart of your tragedy presently, by way of dessert, forinstance. That will be sugared roast meat, - mordioux! Ah!pardon me, monsieur, that was a little oath which escapedme, because it is a habit with my lord and master. Isometimes allow myself to usurp that little oath, as itseems in pretty good taste. I take this liberty only in hisabsence, please to observe, for you may understand that inhis presence - but, in truth, monsieur, this cider isabominable; do you not think so? And besides, the pot is ofsuch an irregular shape it will not stand on the table."

"Suppose we were to make it level?"

"To be sure; but with what?"

"With this knife."

"And the teal, with what shall we cut that up? Do you not,by chance, mean to touch the teal?"

"Certainly."

"Well, then - - "

"Wait."

And the poet rummaged in his pocket, and drew out a piece ofbrass, oblong, quadrangular, about a line in thickness, andan inch and a half in length. But scarcely had this littlepiece of brass seen the light, than the poet appeared tohave committed an imprudence, and made a movement to put itback again in his pocket. D'Artagnan perceived this, for hewas a man that nothing escaped. He stretched forth his handtowards the piece of brass: "Humph! that which you hold inyour hand is pretty; will you allow me to look at it?"

"Certainly," said the poet, who appeared to have yielded toosoon to a first impulse. "Certainly, you may look at it: butit will be in vain for you to look at it," added he, with asatisfied air; "if I were not to tell you its use, you wouldnever guess it."

D'Artagnan had seized as an avowal the hesitation of thepoet, and his eagerness to conceal the piece of brass whicha first movement had induced him to take out of his pocket.His attention, therefore, once awakened on this point, hesurrounded himself with a circumspection which gave him asuperiority on all occasions. Besides, whatever M. Jupenetmight say about it, by a simple inspection of the object, heperfectly well knew what it was. It was a character inprinting.

"Can you guess, now, what this is?" continued the poet.

"No," said D'Artagnan, "no, ma foi!"

"Well, monsieur," said M. Jupenet, "this little piece ofmetal is a printing letter."

"Bah!

"A capital."

"Stop, stop, stop;" said D'Artagnan, opening his eyes veryinnocently.

"Yes, monsieur, a capital; the first letter of my name."

"And this is a letter, is it?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Well, I will confess one thing to you.

"And what is that?"

"No, I will not, I was going to say something stupid."

"No, no," said Master Jupenet, with a patronizing air.

"Well then, I cannot comprehend, if that is a letter, howyou can make a word."

"A word?"

"Yes, a printed word."

"Oh, that's very easy."

"Let me see."

"Does it interest you?"

"Enormously."

"Well, I will explain the thing to you. Attend."

"I am attending."

"That is it."

"Good."

"Look attentively."

"I am looking." D'Artagnan, in fact, appeared absorbed inobservations. Jupenet drew from his pocket seven or eightother pieces of brass smaller than the first.

"Ah, ah," said D'Artagnan.

"What!"

"You have, then, a whole printing-office in your pocket.Peste! that is curious, indeed."

"Is it not?"

"Good God, what a number of things we learn by traveling."

"To your health!" said Jupenet, quite enchanted.

"To yours, mordioux, to yours. But - an instant - not inthis cider. It is an abominable drink, unworthy of a man whoquenches his thirst at the Hippocrene fountain - is not itso you call your fountain, you poets?"

"Yes, monsieur, our fountain is so called. That comes fromtwo Greek words - hippos, which means a horse, and - - "

"Monsieur," interrupted D'Artagnan, "you shall drink of aliquor which comes from one single French word, and is nonethe worse for that - from the word grape; this cider givesme the heartburn. Allow me to inquire of your host if thereis not a good bottle of Beaugency, or of the Ceran growth,at the back of the large bins in his cellar."

The host, being sent for, immediately attended.

"Monsieur," interrupted the poet, "take care, we shall nothave time to drink the wine, unless we make great haste, forI must take advantage of the tide to secure the boat."

"What boat?" asked D'Artagnan.

"Why the boat which sets out for Belle-Isle!"

"Ah - for Belle-Isle," said the musketeer, "that is good."

"Bah! you will have plenty of time, monsieur," replied thehotelier, uncorking the bottle, "the boat will not leavethis hour."

"But who will give me notice?" said the poet.

"Your fellow-traveler," replied the host.

"But I scarcely know him."

"When you hear him departing, it will be time for you togo."

"Is he going to Belle-Isle, likewise, then?"

"The traveler who has a lackey?" asked D'Artagnan. "He issome gentleman, no doubt?"

"I know nothing of him."

"What! - know nothing of him?"

"No, all I know is, that he is drinking the same wine asyou."

"Peste! - that is a great honor for us," said D'Artagnan,filling his companion's glass, whilst the host went out.

"So," resumed the poet, returning to his dominant ideas,"you never saw any printing done?"

"Never."

"Well, then, take the letters thus, which compose the word,you see: A B; ma foi! here is an R, two E E, then a G." Andhe assembled the letters with a swiftness and skill whichdid not escape the eye of D'Artagnan.

"Abrege," said he, as he ended.

"Good!" said D'Artagnan; "here are plenty of letters gottogether; but how are they kept so?" And he poured out asecond glass for the poet. M. Jupenet smiled like a man whohas an answer for everything; then he pulled out - stillfrom his pocket - a little metal ruler, composed of twoparts, like a carpenter's rule, against which he puttogether, and in a line, the characters, holding them underhis left thumb.

"And what do you call that little metal ruler?" saidD'Artagnan, "for, I suppose, all these things have names."

"This is called a composing-stick," said Jupenet; "it is bythe aid of this stick that the lines are formed."

"Come, then, I was not mistaken in what I said; you have apress in your pocket," said D'Artagnan, laughing with an airof simplicity so stupid, that the poet was completely hisdupe.

"No," replied he; "but I am too lazy to write, and when Ihave a verse in my head, I print it immediately. That is alabor spared."

"Mordioux!" thought D'Artagnan to himself, "this must becleared up." And under a pretext, which did not embarrassthe musketeer, who was fertile in expedients, he left thetable, went downstairs, ran to the shed under which stoodthe poet's little cart, poked the point of his poniard intothe stuff which enveloped one of the packages, which hefound full of types, like those which the poet had in hispocket.

"Humph!" said D'Artagnan, "I do not yet know whether M.Fouquet wishes to fortify Belle-Isle; but, at all events,here are some spiritual munitions for the castle." Then,enchanted with his rich discovery he ran upstairs again, andresumed his place at the table.

D'Artagnan had learnt what he wished to know. He, however,remained, none the less, face to face with his partner, tothe moment when they heard from the next room symptoms of aperson's being about to go out. The printer was immediatelyon foot; he had given orders for his horse to be got ready.His carriage was waiting at the door. The second travelergot into his saddle, in the courtyard, with his lackey.D'Artagnan followed Jupenet to the door; he embarked hiscart and horse on board the boat. As to the opulenttraveler, he did the same with his two horses and servant.But all the wit D'Artagnan employed in endeavoring to findout his name was lost - he could learn nothing. Only hetook such notice of his countenance, that it was impressedupon his mind forever. D'Artagnan had a great inclination toembark with the two travelers, but an interest more powerfulthan curiosity - that of success - repelled him from theshore, and brought him back again to the hostelry. Heentered with a sigh and went to bed directly in order to beready early in the morning with fresh ideas and the sagecounsel of sufficing sleep.