obeyed.

"And open the window, because the noise of the passers-by and the
carts will deafen all who might hear us." Planchet opened the window
as desired, and the gust of tumult which filled the chamber with cries,
wheels, barkings, and steps deafened D'Artagnan himself, as he had
wished. He then swallowed a glass of white wine, and began in these
terms: "Planchet, I have an idea."

"Ah! monsieur, I recognize you so well in that!" replied Planchet,
panting with emotion.

Chapter XX. Of the Society which was formed in the Rue des Lombards, at
the Sign of the Pilon d'Or, to carry out M. d'Artagnan's Idea.

After a moment's silence, in which D'Artagnan appeared to be collecting,
not one idea but all his ideas,--"It cannot be, my dear Planchet," said
he, "that you have not heard of his majesty Charles I. of England?"

"Alas! yes, monsieur, since you left France in order to assist him, and
that, in spite of that assistance, he fell, and was near dragging you
down in his fall."

"Exactly so; I see you have a good memory, Planchet."

"_Peste!_ the astonishing thing would be, if I could have lost that
memory, however bad it might have been. When one has heard Grimaud, who,
you know, is not given to talking, relate how the head of King Charles
fell, how you sailed the half of a night in a scuttled vessel, and saw
floating on the water that good M. Mordaunt with a certain gold-hafted
dagger buried in his breast, one is not very likely to forget such
things."

"And yet there are people who forget them, Planchet."

"Yes, such as have not seen them, or have not heard Grimaud relate
them."

"Well, it is all the better that you recollect all that; I shall only
have to remind you of one thing, and that is that Charles I. had a son."

"Without contradicting you, monsieur, he had two," said Planchet; "for
I saw the second one in Paris, M. le Duke of York, one day, as he was
going to the Palais Royal, and I was told that he was not the eldest son
of Charles I. As to the eldest, I have the honor of knowing him by name,
but not personally."

"That is exactly the point, Planchet, we must come to: it is to this
eldest son, formerly called the Prince of Wales, and who is now styled
Charles II., king of England."

"A king without a kingdom, monsieur," replied Planchet, sententiously.

"Yes, Planchet, and you may add an unfortunate prince, more unfortunate
than the poorest man of the people lost in the worst quarter of Par