, my
friend D'Artagnan has something to say to me privately, have you not,
D'Artagnan?"

D'Artagnan nodded his head and Bazin retired, after placing on the table
the Spanish wine.

The two friends, left alone, remained silent, face to face. Aramis
seemed to await a comfortable digestion; D'Artagnan, to be preparing his
exordium. Each of them, when the other was not looking, hazarded a sly
glance. It was Aramis who broke the silence.

"What are you thinking of, D'Artagnan?" he began.

"I was thinking, my dear old friend, that when you were a musketeer you
turned your thoughts incessantly to the church, and now that you are an
abbe you are perpetually longing to be once more a musketeer."

"'Tis true; man, as you know," said Aramis, "is a strange animal, made
up of contradictions. Since I became an abbe I dream of nothing but
battles."

"That is apparent in your surroundings; you have rapiers here of every
form and to suit the most exacting taste. Do you still fence well?"

"I--I fence as well as you did in the old time--better still, perhaps; I
do nothing else all day."

"And with whom?"

"With an excellent master-at-arms that we have here."

"What! here?"

"Yes, here, in this convent, my dear fellow. There is everything in a
Jesuit convent."

"Then you would have killed Monsieur de Marsillac if he had come alone
to attack you, instead of at the head of twenty men?"

"Undoubtedly," said Aramis, "and even at the head of his twenty men, if
I could have drawn without being recognized."

"God pardon me!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "I believe he has become
more Gascon than I am!" Then aloud: "Well, my dear Aramis, do you ask me
why I came to seek you?"

"No, I have not asked you that," said Aramis, with his subtle manner;
"but I have expected you to tell me."

"Well, I sought you for the single purpose of offering you a chance to
kill Monsieur de Marsillac whenever you please, prince though he is."

"Hold on! wait!" said Aramis; "that is an idea!"

"Of which I invite you to take advantage, my friend. Let us see; with
your thousand crowns from the abbey and the twelve thousand francs you
make by selling sermons, are you rich? Answer frankly."

"I? I am as poor as Job, and were you to search my pockets and my boxes
I don't believe you would find a hundred pistoles."

"Peste! a hundred pistoles!" said D'Artagnan to himself; "he calls that
being as poor as Job! If I had them I should think myself as ric