s born for my damnation; for his flight has caused us to miss a
glorious affair, gentlemen--an affair by which there were a hundred
pistoles, and perhaps more, to be gained."

"How is that?" cried Porthos and Aramis in a breath.

As to Athos, faithful to his system of reticence, he contented himself
with interrogating d'Artagnan by a look.

"Planchet," said d'Artagnan to his domestic, who just then insinuated
his head through the half-open door in order to catch some fragments of
the conversation, "go down to my landlord, Monsieur Bonacieux, and ask
him to send me half a dozen bottles of Beaugency wine; I prefer that."

"Ah, ah! You have credit with your landlord, then?" asked Porthos.

"Yes," replied d'Artagnan, "from this very day; and mind, if the wine is
bad, we will send him to find better."

"We must use, and not abuse," said Aramis, sententiously.

"I always said that d'Artagnan had the longest head of the four," said
Athos, who, having uttered his opinion, to which d'Artagnan replied with
a bow, immediately resumed his accustomed silence.

"But come, what is this about?" asked Porthos.

"Yes," said Aramis, "impart it to us, my dear friend, unless the honor
of any lady be hazarded by this confidence; in that case you would do
better to keep it to yourself."

"Be satisfied," replied d'Artagnan; "the honor of no one will have cause
to complain of what I have to tell."

He then related to his friends, word for word, all that had passed
between him and his host, and how the man who had abducted the wife of
his worthy landlord was the same with whom he had had the difference at
the hostelry of the Jolly Miller.

"Your affair is not bad," said Athos, after having tasted like a
connoisseur and indicated by a nod of his head that he thought the wine
good; "and one may draw fifty or sixty pistoles from this good man. Then
there only remains to ascertain whether these fifty or sixty pistoles
are worth the risk of four heads."

"But observe," cried d'Artagnan, "that there is a woman in the affair--a
woman carried off, a woman who is doubtless threatened, tortured
perhaps, and all because she is faithful to her mistress."

"Beware, d'Artagnan, beware," said Aramis. "You grow a little too warm,
in my opinion, about the fate of Madame Bonacieux. Woman was created for
our destruction, and it is from her we inherit all our miseries."

At this speech of Aramis, the brow of Athos became clouded and he bit
his lips