by going away without having sat down."

"If we had known you had a lady upstairs," replied Athos, with his
customary coolness, "we would have asked permission to pay our respects
to her."

Planchet was so disconcerted by this little extravagance, that he forced
the passage, and himself opened the door to admit the comte and his son.
Truechen was quite dressed: costume of the shopkeeper's wife, rich and
coquettish; German eyes attacking French eyes. She ceded the apartment
after two curtseys, and went down into the shop--but not without having
listened at the door, to know what Planchet's gentlemen visitors would
say of her. Athos suspected that, and therefore turned the conversation
accordingly. Planchet, on his part, was burning to give explanations,
which Athos avoided. But, as certain tenacities are stronger than all
others, Athos was forced to hear Planchet recite his idols of felicity,
translated into a language more chaste than that of Longus. So Planchet
related how Truechen had charmed his ripe age, and brought good luck to
his business, as Ruth did to Boaz.

"You want nothing now, then, but heirs to your property."

"If I had one, he would have three hundred thousand livres," said
Planchet.

"Humph! you must have one then," said Athos, phlegmatically; "if only to
prevent your little fortune being lost."

This word _little fortune_ placed Planchet in his rank, like the voice
of the sergeant when Planchet was but a _piqueur_ in the regiment of
Piedmont, in which Rochefort had placed him. Athos perceived that the
grocer would marry Truechen, and, in spite of fate, establish a family.
This appeared the more evident to him when he learned that the young man
to whom Planchet was selling his business was her cousin. Having heard
all that was necessary of the happy prospects of the retiring grocer,
"What is M. d'Artagnan about," said he, "he is not at the Louvre?"

"Ah! Monsieur le Comte, Monsieur d'Artagnan has disappeared."

"Disappeared!" said Athos, with surprise.

"Oh! monsieur, we know what that means."

"But I do not know."

"Whenever M. d'Artagnan disappears it is always for some mission or some
great affair."

"Has he said anything to you about it?"

"Never."

"You were acquainted with his departure for England formerly, were you
not?"

"On account of the speculation," said Planchet, heedlessly.

"The speculation!"

"I mean--" interrupted Planchet, quite confused.

"Well, well; neithe