"Why so?" D'Artagnan ventured to ask.
"Because I should lose half the pleasure I expect to enjoy," replied Planchet.
And thereupon he rose from his sack of Indian corn, stretching himself, and making all his bones crack, one after the other, with a sort of harmony.
"Planchet! Planchet!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, "I do declare that there is no sybarite upon the whole face of the globe who can for a moment be compared to you. Oh, Planchet, it is very clear that we have never yet eaten a ton of salt together."
"Why so, monsieur?"
"Because, even now I can scarcely say I know you," said D'Artagnan, "and because, in point of fact, I return to the opinion which, for a moment, I had formed of you that day at Boulogne, when you strangled, or did so as nearly as possible, Monsieur de Wardes' valet, Lubin; in plain language, Planchet, that you are a man of great resources."
Planchet began to laugh with a laugh full of self-conceit, bid the musketeer good-night, and went downstairs to his back shop, which he used as a bedroom. D'Artagnan resumed his original position upon his chair, and his brow, which had been unruffled for a moment, became more pensive than ever. He had already forgotten the whims and dreams of Planchet.
"Yes," said he, taking up again the thread of his thoughts, which had been broken by the agreeable conversation in which we have just permitted our readers to participate. "Yes, yes, those three points include everything: First, to ascertain what Baisemeaux wanted with Aramis; secondly, to learn why Aramis does not let me hear from him; and, thirdly, to ascertain where Porthos is. The whole mystery lies in these three points. Since, therefore," continued D'Artagnan, "our friends tell us nothing, we must have recourse to our own poor intelligence. I must do what I can, mordioux, or, rather, Malaga, as Planchet would say."
CHAPTER II.
A LETTER FROM M. BAISEMEAUX.
D'Artagnan, faithful to his plan, went the very next morning to pay a visit to M. de Baisemeaux. It was the
