On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the market townof Meung, in which the author of ROMANCE OF THE ROSE was born,appeared to be in as perfect a state of revolution as if theHuguenots had just made a second La Rochelle of it. Manycitizens, seeing the women flying toward the High Street, leavingtheir children crying at the open doors, hastened to don thecuirass, and supporting their somewhat uncertain courage with amusket or a partisan, directed their steps toward the hostelry ofthe Jolly Miller, before which was gathered, increasing everyminute, a compact group, vociferous and full of curiosity.

In those times panics were common, and few days passed withoutsome city or other registering in its archives an event of thiskind. There were nobles, who made war against each other; therewas the king, who made war against the cardinal; there was Spain,which made war against the king. Then, in addition to theseconcealed or public, secret or open wars, there were robbers,mendicants, Huguenots, wolves, and scoundrels, who made war uponeverybody. The citizens always took up arms readily againstthieves, wolves or scoundrels, often against nobles or Huguenots,sometimes against the king, but never against cardinal or Spain.It resulted, then, from this habit that on the said first Mondayof April, 1625, the citizens, on hearing the clamor, and seeingneither the red-and-yellow standard nor the livery of the Duc deRichelieu, rushed toward the hostel of the Jolly Miller. Whenarrived there, the cause of the hubbub was apparent to all.

A young man - we can sketch his portrait at a dash. Imagine toyourself a Don Quixote of eighteen; a Don Quixote without hiscorselet, without his coat of mail, without his cuisses; a DonQuixote clothed in a wooden doublet, the blue color of which hadfaded into a nameless shade between lees of wine and a heavenlyazure; face long and brown; high cheek bones, a sign of sagacity;the maxillary muscles enormously developed, an infallible sign bywhich a Gascon may always be detected, even without his cap - andour young man wore a cap set off with a sort of feather; the eyeopen and intelligent; the nose hooked, but finely chiseled. Toobig for a youth, too small for a grown man, an experienced eyemight have taken him for a farmer's son upon a journey had it notbeen for the long sword which, dangling from a leather baldric,hit against the calves of its owner as he walked, and against therough side of his steed when he was on horseback.

For our young man had a steed which was the observed of allobservers. It was a Bearn pony, from twelve to fourteen yearsold, yellow in his hide, without a hair in his tail, but notwithout windgalls on his legs, which, though going with his headlower than his knees, rendering a martingale quite unnecessary,contrived nevertheless to perform his eight leagues a day.Unfortunately, the qualities of this horse were so well concealedunder his strange-colored hide and his unaccountable gait, thatat a time when everybody was a connoisseur in horseflesh, theappearance of the aforesaid pony at Meung - which place he hadentered about a quarter of an hour before, by the gate ofBeaugency - produced an unfavorable feeling, which extended to hisrider.

And this feeling had been more painfully perceived by youngD'Artagnan - for so was the Don Quixote of this second Rosinantenamed - from his not being able to conceal from himself theridiculous appearance that such a steed gave him, good horsemanas he was. He had sighed deeply, therefore, when accepting thegift of the pony from M. D'Artagnan the elder. He was notignorant that such a beast was worth at least twenty livres; andthe words which had accompanied the present were above all price.

"My son," said the old Gascon gentleman, in that pure BearnPATOIS of which Henry IV could never rid himself, "this horse wasborn in the house of your father about thirteen years ago, andhas remained in it ever since, which ought to make you love it.Never sell it; allow it to die tranquilly and honorably of oldage, and if you make a campaign with it, take as much care of itas you would of an old servant. At court, provided you have everthe honor to go there," continued M. D'Artagnan the elder, " - anhonor to which, remember, your ancient nobility gives you theright - sustain worthily your name of gentleman, which has beenworthily borne by your ancestors for five hundred years, both foryour own sake and the sake of those who belong to you. By thelatter I mean your relatives and friends. Endure nothing fromanyone except Monsieur the Cardinal and the king. It is by hiscourage, please observe, by his courage alone, that a gentlemancan make his way nowadays. Whoever hesitates for a secondperhaps allows the bait to escape which during that exact secondfortune held out to him. You are young. You ought to be bravefor two reasons: the first is that you are a Gascon, and thesecond is that you are my son. Never fear quarrels, but seekadventures. I have taught you how to handle a sword; you havethews of iron, a wrist of steel. Fight on all occasions. Fightthe more for duels being forbidden, since consequently there istwice as much courage in fighting. I have nothing to give you,my son, but fifteen crowns, my horse, and the counsels you havejust heard. Your mother will add to them a recipe for a certainbalsam, which she had from a Bohemian and which has themiraculous virtue of curing all wounds that do not reach theheart. Take advantage of all, and live happily and long. I havebut one word to add, and that is to propose an example to you - not mine, for I myself have never appeared at court, and haveonly taken part in religious wars as a volunteer; I speak ofMonsieur de Treville, who was formerly my neighbor, and who hadthe honor to be, as a child, the play-fellow of our king, LouisXIII, whom God preserve! Sometimes their play degenerated intobattles, and in these battles the king was not always thestronger. The blows which he received increased greatly hisesteem and friendship for Monsieur de Treville. Afterward,Monsieur de Treville fought with others: in his first journey toParis, five times; from the death of the late king till the youngone came of age, without reckoning wars and sieges, seven times;and from that date up to the present day, a hundred times,perhaps! So that in spite of edicts, ordinances, and decrees,there he is, captain of the Musketeers; that is to say, chief ofa legion of Caesars, whom the king holds in great esteem and whomthe cardinal dreads - he who dreads nothing, as it is said. Stillfurther, Monsieur de Treville gains ten thousand crowns a year;he is therefore a great noble. He began as you begin. Go to himwith this letter, and make him your model in order that you maydo as he has done."

Upon which M. D'Artagnan the elder girded his own sword round hisson, kissed him tenderly on both cheeks, and gave him hisbenediction.

On leaving the paternal chamber, the young man found his mother,who was waiting for him with the famous recipe of which thecounsels we have just repeated would necessitate frequentemployment. The adieux were on this side longer and more tenderthan they had been on the other - not that M. D'Artagnan did notlove his son, who was his only offspring, but M. D'Artagnan was aman, and he would have considered it unworthy of a man to giveway to his feelings; whereas Mme. D'Artagnan was a woman, andstill more, a mother. She wept abundantly; and - let us speak itto the praise of M. D'Artagnan the younger - notwithstanding theefforts he made to remain firm, as a future Musketeer ought,nature prevailed, and he shed many tears, of which he succeededwith great difficulty in concealing the half.

The same day the young man set forward on his journey, furnishedwith the three paternal gifts, which consisted, as we have said,of fifteen crowns, the horse, and the letter for M. de Treville - the counsels being thrown into the bargain.

With such a VADE MECUM D'Artagnan was morally and physically anexact copy of the hero of Cervantes, to whom we so happilycompared him when our duty of an historian placed us under thenecessity of sketching his portrait. Don Quixote took windmillsfor giants, and sheep for armies; D'Artagnan took every smile foran insult, and every look as a provocation - whence it resultedthat from Tarbes to Meung his fist was constantly doubled, or hishand on the hilt of his sword; and yet the fist did not descendupon any jaw, nor did the sword issue from its scabbard. It wasnot that the sight of the wretched pony did not excite numeroussmiles on the countenances of passers-by; but as against the sideof this pony rattled a sword of respectable length, and as overthis sword gleamed an eye rather ferocious than haughty, thesepassers-by repressed their hilarity, or if hilarity prevailedover prudence, they endeavored to laugh only on one side, likethe masks of the ancients. D'Artagnan, then, remained majesticand intact in his susceptibility, till he came to this unluckycity of Meung.

But there, as he was alighting from his horse at the gate of theJolly Miller, without anyone - host, waiter, or hostler - coming tohold his stirrup or take his horse, D'Artagnan spied, though anopen window on the ground floor, a gentleman, well-made and ofgood carriage, although of rather a stern countenance, talkingwith two persons who appeared to listen to him with respect.D'Artagnan fancied quite naturally, according to his custom, thathe must be the object of their conversation, and listened. Thistime D'Artagnan was only in part mistaken; he himself was not inquestion, but his horse was. The gentleman appeared to beenumerating all his qualities to his auditors; and, as I havesaid, the auditors seeming to have great deference for thenarrator, they every moment burst into fits of laughter. Now, asa half-smile was sufficient to awaken the irascibility of theyoung man, the effect produced upon him by this vociferous mirthmay be easily imagined.

Nevertheless, D'Artagnan was desirous of examining the appearanceof this impertinent personage who ridiculed him. He fixed hishaughty eye upon the stranger, and perceived a man of from fortyto forty-five years of age, with black and piercing eyes, palecomplexion, a strongly marked nose, and a black and well-shapedmustache. He was dressed in a doublet and hose of a violetcolor, with aiguillettes of the same color, without any otherornaments than the customary slashes, through which the shirtappeared. This doublet and hose, though new, were creased, liketraveling clothes for a long time packed in a portmanteau.D'Artagnan made all these remarks with the rapidity of a mostminute observer, and doubtless from an instinctive feeling thatthis stranger was destined to have a great influence over hisfuture life.

Now, as at the moment in which D'Artagnan fixed his eyes upon thegentleman in the violet doublet, the gentleman made one of hismost knowing and profound remarks respecting the Bearnese pony,his two auditors laughed even louder than before, and he himself,though contrary to his custom, allowed a pale smile (if I mayallowed to use such an expression) to stray over his countenance.This time there could be no doubt; D'Artagnan was reallyinsulted. Full, then, of this conviction, he pulled his cap downover his eyes, and endeavoring to copy some of the court airs hehad picked up in Gascony among young traveling nobles, headvanced with one hand on the hilt of his sword and the otherresting on his hip. Unfortunately, as he advanced, his angerincreased at every step; and instead of the proper and loftyspeech he had prepared as a prelude to his challenge, he foundnothing at the tip of his tongue but a gross personality, whichhe accompanied with a furious gesture.

"I say, sir, you sir, who are hiding yourself behind thatshutter - yes, you, sir, tell me what you are laughing at, and wewill laugh together!"

The gentleman raised his eyes slowly from the nag to hiscavalier, as if he required some time to ascertain whether itcould be to him that such strange reproaches were addressed;then, when he could not possibly entertain any doubt of thematter, his eyebrows slightly bent, and with an accent of ironyand insolence impossible to be described, he replied toD'Artagnan, "I was not speaking to you, sir."

"But I am speaking to you!" replied the young man, additionallyexasperated with this mixture of insolence and good manners, ofpoliteness and scorn.

The stranger looked at him again with a slight smile, andretiring from the window, came out of the hostelry with a slowstep, and placed himself before the horse, within two paces ofD'Artagnan. His quiet manner and the ironical expression of hiscountenance redoubled the mirth of the persons with whom he hadbeen talking, and who still remained at the window.

D'Artagnan, seeing him approach, drew his sword a foot out of thescabbard.

"This horse is decidedly, or rather has been in his youth, abuttercup," resumed the stranger, continuing the remarks he hadbegun, and addressing himself to his auditors at the window,without paying the least attention to the exasperation ofD'Artagnan, who, however placed himself between him and them."It is a color very well known in botany, but till the presenttime very rare among horses."

"There are people who laugh at the horse that would not dare tolaugh at the master," cried the young emulator of the furiousTreville.

"I do not often laugh, sir," replied the stranger, "as you mayperceive by the expression of my countenance; but nevertheless Iretain the privilege of laughing when I please."

"And I," cried D'Artagnan, "will allow no man to laugh when itdispleases me!"

"Indeed, sir," continued the stranger, more calm than ever;"well, that is perfectly right!" and turning on his heel, wasabout to re-enter the hostelry by the front gate, beneath whichD'Artagnan on arriving had observed a saddled horse.

But, D'Artagnan was not of a character to allow a man to escapehim thus who had the insolence to ridicule him. He drew hissword entirely from the scabbard, and followed him, crying,"Turn, turn, Master Joker, lest I strike you behind!"

"Strike me!" said the other, turning on his heels, and surveyingthe young man with as much astonishment as contempt. "Why, mygood fellow, you must be mad!" Then, in a suppressed tone, as ifspeaking to himself, "This is annoying," continued he. "What agodsend this would be for his Majesty, who is seeking everywherefor brave fellows to recruit for his Musketeers!"

He had scarcely finished, when D'Artagnan made such a furiouslunge at him that if he had not sprung nimbly backward, it isprobable he would have jested for the last time. The stranger,then perceiving that the matter went beyond raillery, drew hissword, saluted his adversary, and seriously placed himself onguard. But at the same moment, his two auditors, accompanied bythe host, fell upon D'Artagnan with sticks, shovels and tongs.This caused so rapid and complete a diversion from the attackthat D'Artagnan's adversary, while the latter turned round toface this shower of blows, sheathed his sword with the sameprecision, and instead of an actor, which he had nearly been,became a spectator of the fight - a part in which he acquittedhimself with his usual impassiveness, muttering, nevertheless, "Aplague upon these Gascons! Replace him on his orange horse, andlet him begone!"

"Not before I have killed you, poltroon!" cried D'Artagnan,making the best face possible, and never retreating one stepbefore his three assailants, who continued to shower blows uponhim.

"Another gasconade!" murmured the gentleman. "By my honor, theseGascons are incorrigible! Keep up the dance, then, since he willhave it so. When he is tired, he will perhaps tell us that hehas had enough of it."

But the stranger knew not the headstrong personage he had to dowith; D'Artagnan was not the man ever to cry for quarter. Thefight was therefore prolonged for some seconds; but at lengthD'Artagnan dropped his sword, which was broken in two pieces bythe blow of a stick. Another blow full upon his forehead at thesame moment brought him to the ground, covered with blood andalmost fainting.

It was at this moment that people came flocking to the scene ofaction from all sides. The host, fearful of consequences, withthe help of his servants carried the wounded man into thekitchen, where some trifling attentions were bestowed upon him.

As to the gentleman, he resumed his place at the window, andsurveyed the crowd with a certain impatience, evidently annoyedby their remaining undispersed.

"Well, how is it with this madman?" exclaimed he, turning roundas the noise of the door announced the entrance of the host, whocame in to inquire if he was unhurt.

"Your excellency is safe and sound?" asked the host.

"Oh, yes! Perfectly safe and sound, my good host; and I wish toknow what has become of our young man."

"He is better," said the host, "he fainted quite away."

"Indeed!" said the gentleman.

"But before he fainted, he collected all his strength tochallenge you, and to defy you while challenging you."

"Why, this fellow must be the devil in person!" cried thestranger.

"Oh, no, your Excellency, he is not the devil," replied the host,with a grin of contempt; "for during his fainting we rummaged hisvalise and found nothing but a clean shirt and eleven crowns - which however, did not prevent his saying, as he was fainting,that if such a thing had happened in Paris, you should have causeto repent of it at a later period."

"Then," said the stranger coolly, "he must be some prince indisguise."

"I have told you this, good sir," resumed the host, "in orderthat you may be on your guard."

"Did he name no one in his passion?"

"Yes; he struck his pocket and said, 'We shall see what Monsieurde Treville will think of this insult offered to his protege.'"

"Monsieur de Treville?" said the stranger, becoming attentive,"he put his hand upon his pocket while pronouncing the name ofMonsieur de Treville? Now, my dear host, while your young manwas insensible, you did not fail, I am quite sure, to ascertainwhat that pocket contained. What was there in it?"

"A letter addressed to Monsieur de Treville, captain of theMusketeers."

"Indeed!"

"Exactly as I have the honor to tell your Excellency."

The host, who was not endowed with great perspicacity, did notobserve the expression which his words had given to thephysiognomy of the stranger. The latter rose from the front ofthe window, upon the sill of which he had leaned with his elbow,and knitted his brow like a man disquieted.

"The devil!" murmured he, between his teeth. "Can Treville haveset this Gascon upon me? He is very young; but a sword thrust isa sword thrust, whatever be the age of him who gives it, and ayouth is less to be suspected than an older man," and thestranger fell into a reverie which lasted some minutes. "A weakobstacle is sometimes sufficient to overthrow a great design.

"Host," said he, "could you not contrive to get rid of thisfrantic boy for me? In conscience, I cannot kill him; and yet,"added he, with a coldly menacing expression, "he annoys me.Where is he?"

"In my wife's chamber, on the first flight, where they aredressing his wounds."

"His things and his bag are with him? Has he taken off hisdoublet?"

"On the contrary, everything is in the kitchen. But if he annoysyou, this young fool - "

"To be sure he does. He causes a disturbance in your hostelry,which respectable people cannot put up with. Go; make out mybill and notify my servant."

"What, monsieur, will you leave us so soon?"

"You know that very well, as I gave my order to saddle my horse.Have they not obeyed me?"

"It is done; as your Excellency may have observed, your horse isin the great gateway, ready saddled for your departure."

"That is well; do as I have directed you, then."

"What the devil!" said the host to himself. "Can he be afraid ofthis boy?" But an imperious glance from the stranger stopped himshort; he bowed humbly and retired.

"It is not necessary for Milady* to be seen by this fellow,"continued the stranger. "She will soon pass; she is alreadylate. I had better get on horseback, and go and meet her. Ishould like, however, to know what this letter addressed toTreville contains."

*We are well aware that this term, milady, is only properly used when followed by a family name. But we find it thus in the manuscript, and we do not choose to take upon ourselves to alter it.

And the stranger, muttering to himself, directed his steps towardthe kitchen."

In the meantime, the host, who entertained no doubt that it wasthe presence of the young man that drove the stranger from hishostelry, re-ascended to his wife's chamber, and found D'Artagnanjust recovering his senses. Giving him to understand that thepolice would deal with him pretty severely for having sought aquarrel with a great lord - for the opinion of the host thestranger could be nothing less than a great lord - he insistedthat notwithstanding his weakness D'Artagnan should get up anddepart as quickly as possible. D'Artagnan, half stupefied,without his doublet, and with his head bound up in a linen cloth,arose then, and urged by the host, began to descend the stairs;but on arriving at the kitchen, the first thing he saw was hisantagonist talking calmly at the step of a heavy carriage, drawnby two large Norman horses.

His interlocutor, whose head appeared through the carriagewindow, was a woman of from twenty to two-and-twenty years. Wehave already observed with what rapidity D'Artagnan seized theexpression of a countenance. He perceived then, at a glance,that this woman was young and beautiful; and her style of beautystruck him more forcibly from its being totally different fromthat of the southern countries in which D'Artagnan had hithertoresided. She was pale and fair, with long curls falling inprofusion over her shoulders, had large, blue, languishing eyes,rosy lips, and hands of alabaster. She was talking with greatanimation with the stranger.

"His Eminence, then, orders me - " said the lady.

"To return instantly to England, and to inform him as soon as theduke leaves London."

"And as to my other instructions?" asked the fair traveler.

"They are contained in this box, which you will not open untilyou are on the other side of the Channel."

"Very well; and you - what will you do?"

"I - I return to Paris."

"What, without chastising this insolent boy?" asked the lady.

The stranger was about to reply; but at the moment he opened hismouth, D'Artagnan, who had heard all, precipitated himself overthe threshold of the door.

"This insolent boy chastises others," cried he; "and I hope thatthis time he whom he ought to chastise will not escape him asbefore."

"Will not escape him?" replied the stranger, knitting his brow.

"No; before a woman you would dare not fly, I presume?"

"Remember," said Milady, seeing the stranger lay his hand on hissword, "the least delay may ruin everything."

"You are right," cried the gentleman; "begone then, on your part,and I will depart as quickly on mine." And bowing to the lady,sprang into his saddle, while her coachman applied his whipvigorously to his horses. The two interlocutors thus separated,taking opposite directions, at full gallop.

"Pay him, booby!" cried the stranger to his servant, withoutchecking the speed of his horse; and the man, after throwing twoor three silver pieces at the foot of mine host, galloped afterhis master.

"Base coward! false gentleman!" cried D'Artagnan, springingforward, in his turn, after the servant. But his wound hadrendered him too weak to support such an exertion. Scarcely hadhe gone ten steps when his ears began to tingle, a faintnessseized him, a cloud of blood passed over his eyes, and he fell inthe middle of the street, crying still, "Coward! coward! coward!"

"He is a coward, indeed," grumbled the host, drawing near toD'Artagnan, and endeavoring by this little flattery to make upmatters with the young man, as the heron of the fable did withthe snail he had despised the evening before.

"Yes, a base coward," murmured D'Artagnan; "but she - she was verybeautiful."

"What she?" demanded the host.

"Milady," faltered D'Artagnan, and fainted a second time.

"Ah, it's all one," said the host; "I have lost two customers,but this one remains, of whom I am pretty certain for some daysto come. There will be eleven crowns gained."

It is to be remembered that eleven crowns was just the sum thatremained in D'Artagnan's purse.

The host had reckoned upon eleven days of confinement at a crowna day, but he had reckoned without his guest. On the followingmorning at five o'clock D'Artagnan arose, and descending to thekitchen without help, asked, among other ingredients the list ofwhich has not come down to us, for some oil, some wine, and somerosemary, and with his mother's recipe in his hand composed abalsam, with which he anointed his numerous wounds, replacing hisbandages himself, and positively refusing the assistance of anydoctor, D'Artagnan walked about that same evening, and was almostcured by the morrow.

But when the time came to pay for his rosemary, this oil, and thewine, the only expense the master had incurred, as he hadpreserved a strict abstinence - while on the contrary, the yellowhorse, by the account of the hostler at least, had eaten threetimes as much as a horse of his size could reasonably supposed tohave done - D'Artagnan found nothing in his pocket but his littleold velvet purse with the eleven crowns it contained; for as tothe letter addressed to M. de Treville, it had disappeared.

The young man commenced his search for the letter with thegreatest patience, turning out his pockets of all kinds over andover again, rummaging and rerummaging in his valise, and openingand reopening his purse; but when he found that he had come tothe conviction that the letter was not to be found, he flew, forthe third time, into such a rage as was near costing him a freshconsumption of wine, oil, and rosemary - for upon seeing this hot-headed youth become exasperated and threaten to destroyeverything in the establishment if his letter were not found, thehost seized a spit, his wife a broom handle, and the servants thesame sticks they had used the day before.

"My letter of recommendation!" cried D'Artagnan, "my letter ofrecommendation! or, the holy blood, I will spit you all likeortolans!"

Unfortunately, there was one circumstance which created apowerful obstacle to the accomplishment of this threat; whichwas, as we have related, that his sword had been in his firstconflict broken in two, and which he had entirely forgotten.Hence, it resulted when D'Artagnan proceeded to draw his sword inearnest, he found himself purely and simply armed with a stump ofa sword about eight or ten inches in length, which the host hadcarefully placed in the scabbard. As to the rest of the blade,the master had slyly put that on one side to make himself alarding pin.

But this deception would probably not have stopped our fieryyoung man if the host had not reflected that the reclamationwhich his guest made was perfectly just.

"But, after all," said he, lowering the point of his spit, "whereis this letter?"

"Yes, where is this letter?" cried D'Artagnan. "In the firstplace, I warn you that that letter is for Monsieur de Treville,and it must be found, he will not know how to find it."

His threat completed the intimidation of the host. After theking and the cardinal, M. de Treville was the man whose name wasperhaps most frequently repeated by the military, and even bycitizens. There was, to be sure, Father Joseph, but his name wasnever pronounced but with a subdued voice, such was the terrorinspired by his Gray Eminence, as the cardinal's familiar wascalled.

Throwing down his spit, and ordering his wife to do the same withher broom handle, and the servants with their sticks, he set thefirst example of commencing an earnest search for the lostletter.

"Does the letter contain anything valuable?" demanded the host,after a few minutes of useless investigation.

"Zounds! I think it does indeed!" cried the Gascon, who reckonedupon this letter for making his way at court. "It contained myfortune!"

"Bills upon Spain?" asked the disturbed host.

"Bills upon his Majesty's private treasury," answered D'Artagnan,who, reckoning upon entering into the king's service inconsequence of this recommendation, believed he could make thissomewhat hazardous reply without telling of a falsehood.

"The devil!" cried the host, at his wit's end.

"But it's of no importance," continued D'Artagnan, with naturalassurance; "it's of no importance. The money is nothing; thatletter was everything. I would rather have lost a thousandpistoles than have lost it." He would not have risked more if hehad said twenty thousand; but a certain juvenile modestyrestrained him.

A ray of light all at once broke upon the mind of the host as hewas giving himself to the devil upon finding nothing.

"That letter is not lost!" cried he.

"What!" cried D'Artagnan.

"No, it has been stolen from you."

"Stolen? By whom?"

"By the gentleman who was here yesterday. He came down into thekitchen, where your doublet was. He remained there some timealone. I would lay a wager he has stolen it."

"Do you think so?" answered D'Artagnan, but little convinced, ashe knew better than anyone else how entirely personal the valueof this letter was, and was nothing in it likely to temptcupidity. The fact was that none of his servants, none of thetravelers present, could have gained anything by being possessedof this paper.

"Do you say," resumed D'Artagnan, "that you suspect thatimpertinent gentleman?"

"I tell you I am sure of it," continued the host. "When Iinformed him that your lordship was the protege of Monsieur deTreville, and that you even had a letter for that illustriousgentleman, he appeared to be very much disturbed, and asked mewhere that letter was, and immediately came down into thekitchen, where he knew your doublet was."

"Then that's my thief," replied D'Artagnan. "I will complain toMonsieur de Treville, and Monsieur de Treville will complain tothe king." He then drew two crowns majestically from his purseand gave them to the host, who accompanied him, cap in hand, tothe gate, and remounted his yellow horse, which bore him withoutany further accident to the gate of St. Antoine at Paris, wherehis owner sold him for three crowns, which was a very good price,considering that D'Artagnan had ridden him hard during the laststage. Thus the dealer to whom D'Artagnan sold him for the ninelivres did not conceal from the young man that he only gave thatenormous sum for him on the account of the originality of hiscolor.

Thus D'Artagnan entered Paris on foot, carrying his little packetunder his arm, and walked about till he found an apartment to belet on terms suited to the scantiness of his means. This chamberwas a sort of garret, situated in the Rue des Fossoyeurs, nearthe Luxembourg.

As soon as the earnest money was paid, D'Artagnan took possessionof his lodging, and passed the remainder of the day in sewingonto his doublet and hose some ornamental braiding which hismother had taken off an almost-new doublet of the elder M.D'Artagnan, and which she had given her son secretly. Next hewent to the Quai de Feraille to have a new blade put to hissword, and then returned toward the Louvre, inquiring of thefirst Musketeer he met for the situation of the hotel of M. deTreville, which proved to be in the Rue du Vieux-Colombier; thatis to say, in the immediate vicinity of the chamber hired byD'Artagnan - a circumstance which appeared to furnish a happyaugury for the success of his journey.

After this, satisfied with the way in which he had conductedhimself at Meung, without remorse for the past, confident in thepresent, and full of hope for the future, he retired to bed andslept the sleep of the brave.

This sleep, provincial as it was, brought him to nine o'clock inthe morning; at which hour he rose, in order to repair to theresidence of M. de Treville, the third personage in the kingdompaternal estimation.