wife and
daughter were to repose.

"Well, for my part, I shall go to bed," said D'Artagnan; "come,
Porthos."

Porthos followed the lieutenant with that profound confidence he ever
had in the wisdom of his friend. They walked from one end of the chateau
to the other, Porthos looking with wondering eyes at D'Artagnan, who was
counting on his fingers.

"Four hundred, at a pistole each, four hundred pistoles."

"Yes," interposed Porthos, "four hundred pistoles; but who is to make
four hundred pistoles?"

"A pistole is not enough," said D'Artagnan, "'tis worth a louis."

"What is worth a louis?"

"Four hundred, at a louis each, make four hundred louis."

"Four hundred?" said Porthos.

"Yes, there are two hundred of them, and each of them will need two,
which will make four hundred."

"But four hundred what?"

"Listen!" cried D'Artagnan.

But as there were all kinds of people about, who were in a state of
stupefaction at the unexpected arrival of the court, he whispered in his
friend's ear.

"I understand," answered Porthos, "I understand you perfectly, on my
honor; two hundred louis, each of us, would be making a pretty thing of
it; but what will people say?"

"Let them say what they will; besides, how will they know that we are
doing it?"

"But who will distribute these things?" asked Porthos.

"Isn't Mousqueton there?"

"But he wears my livery; my livery will be known," replied Porthos.

"He can turn his coat inside out."

"You are always in the right, my dear friend," cried Porthos; "but where
the devil do you discover all the notions you put into practice?"

D'Artagnan smiled. The two friends turned down the first street they
came to. Porthos knocked at the door of a house to the right, whilst
D'Artagnan knocked at the door of a house to the left.

"Some straw," they said.

"Sir, we don't keep any," was the reply of the people who opened the
doors; "but please ask at the hay dealer's."

"Where is the hay dealer's?"

"At the last large door in the street."

"Are there any other people in Saint Germain who sell straw?"

"Yes; there's the landlord of the Lamb, and Gros-Louis the farmer; they
both live in the Rue des Ursulines."

"Very well."

D'Artagnan went instantly to the hay dealer and bargained with him for
a hundred and fifty trusses of straw, which he obtained, at the rate of
three pistoles each. He went afterward to the innkeeper and bought from
him two hundred trusses at the