round-floor
of this house came a noise, or rather a confusion of voices, like the
chirping of young birds when the brood is just hatched under the down.
One of these voices was spelling the alphabet distinctly. A voice thick,
yet pleasant, at the same time scolded the talkers and corrected the
faults of the reader. D'Artagnan recognized that voice, and as the
window of the ground-floor was open, he leant down from his horse under
the branches and red fibers of the vine and cried, "Bazin, my dear
Bazin! good-day to you."

A short, fat man, with a flat face, a cranium ornamented with a crown
of gray hairs, cut short, in imitation of a tonsure, and covered with an
old black velvet cap, arose as soon as he heard D'Artagnan--we ought not
to say arose, but _bounded up_. In fact, Bazin bounded up, carrying with
him his little low chair, which the children tried to take away, with
battles more fierce than those of the Greeks endeavoring to recover the
body of Patroclus from the hands of the Trojans. Bazin did more than
bound; he let fall both his alphabet and his ferule. "You!" said he;
"you, Monsieur D'Artagnan?"

"Yes, myself! Where is Aramis--no, M. le Chevalier d'Herblay--no, I am
still mistaken--Monsieur le Vicaire-General?"

"Ah, monsieur," said Bazin, with dignity, "monseigneur is at his
diocese."

"What did you say?" said D'Artagnan. Bazin repeated the sentence.

"Ah, ah! but has Aramis a diocese?"

"Yes, monsieur. Why not?"

"Is he a bishop, then?"

"Why, where can you come from," said Bazin, rather irreverently, "that
you don't know that?"

"My dear Bazin, we pagans, we men of the sword, know very well when a
man is made a colonel, or maitre-de-camp, or marshal of France; but if
he be made a bishop, arch-bishop, or pope--devil take me if the news
reaches us before the three quarters of the earth have had the advantage
of it!"

"Hush! hush!" said Bazin, opening his eyes: "do not spoil these poor
children, in whom I am endeavoring to inculcate such good principles."
In fact, the children had surrounded D'Artagnan, whose horse, long
sword, spurs, and martial air they very much admired. But above all,
they admired his strong voice; so that, when he uttered his oath, the
whole school cried out, "The devil take me!" with fearful bursts
of laughter, shouts, and bounds, which delighted the musketeer, and
bewildered the old pedagogue.

"There!" said he, "hold your tongues, you brats! You have come, M.
d'Artagna