agnan rushed
out of his hiding place and arrived in time to see Bazin turn down the
Rue de la Juiverie and enter, in the Rue de la Calandre, a respectable
looking house; and this D'Artagnan felt no doubt was the habitation
of the worthy beadle. Afraid of making any inquiries at this house,
D'Artagnan entered a small tavern at the corner of the street and
asked for a cup of hypocras. This beverage required a good half-hour to
prepare. And D'Artagnan had time, therefore, to watch Bazin unsuspected.

He perceived in the tavern a pert boy between twelve and fifteen years
of age whom he fancied he had seen not twenty minutes before under the
guise of a chorister. He questioned him, and as the boy had no interest
in deceiving, D'Artagnan learned that he exercised, from six o'clock in
the morning until nine, the office of chorister, and from nine o'clock
till midnight that of a waiter in the tavern.

Whilst he was talking to this lad a horse was brought to the door of
Bazin's house. It was saddled and bridled. Almost immediately Bazin came
downstairs.

"Look!" said the boy, "there's our beadle, who is going a journey."

"And where is he going?" asked D'Artagnan.

"Forsooth, I don't know."

"Half a pistole if you can find out," said D'Artagnan.

"For me?" cried the boy, his eyes sparkling with joy, "if I can find
out where Bazin is going? That is not difficult. You are not joking, are
you?"

"No, on the honor of an officer; there is the half-pistole;" and he
showed him the seductive coin, but did not give it him.

"I shall ask him."

"Just the very way not to know. Wait till he is set out and then, marry,
come up, ask, and find out. The half-pistole is ready," and he put it
back again into his pocket.

"I understand," said the child, with that jeering smile which marks
especially the "gamin de Paris." "Well, we must wait."

They had not long to wait. Five minutes afterward Bazin set off on a
full trot, urging on his horse by the blows of a parapluie, which he was
in the habit of using instead of a riding whip.

Scarcely had he turned the corner of the Rue de la Juiverie when the boy
rushed after him like a bloodhound on full scent.

Before ten minutes had elapsed the child returned.

"Well!" said D'Artagnan.

"Well!" answered the boy, "the thing is done."

"Where is he gone?"

"The half-pistole is for me?"

"Doubtless, answer me."

"I want to see it. Give it me, that I may see it is not false."

"The