nied his master in
his attempt to conquer the said empire,--they certainly will have no
hesitation in extending the same judgment to D'Artagnan and Planchet.
And yet the first passed for one of the most subtle spirits among the
astute spirits of the court of France. As to the second, he had acquired
by good right the reputation of having one of the longest heads
among the grocers of the Rue des Lombards; consequently of Paris, and
consequently of France. Now, to consider these two men from the point of
view from which you would consider other men, and the means by the aid
of which they contemplated to restore a monarch to his throne, compared
with other means, the shallowest brains of the country where brains are
most shallow must have revolted against the presumptuous madness of the
lieutenant and the stupidity of his associate. Fortunately, D'Artagnan
was not a man to listen to the idle talk of those around him, or to the
comments that were made on himself. He had adopted the motto, "Act well,
and let people talk." Planchet, on his part had adopted this, "Act and
say nothing." It resulted from this, that, according to the custom
of all superior geniuses, these two men flattered themselves, _intra
pectus_, with being in the right against all who found fault with them.

As a beginning, D'Artagnan set out in the finest of possible weather,
without a cloud in the heavens--without a cloud on his mind, joyous
and strong, calm and decided, great in his resolution, and consequently
carrying with him a tenfold dose of that potent fluid which the shocks
of mind cause to spring from the nerves, and which procure for the
human machine a force and an influence of which future ages will render,
according to all probability, a more arithmetical account than we can
possibly do at present. He was again, as in times past, on that same
road of adventures which had led him to Boulogne, and which he was now
traveling for the fourth time. It appeared to him that he could almost
recognize the trace of his own steps upon the road, and that of his
fist upon the doors of the hostelries;--his memory, always active and
present, brought back that youth which neither thirty years later his
great heart nor his wrist of steel would have belied. What a rich nature
was that of this man! He had all the passions, all the defects, all
the weaknesses, and the spirit of contradiction familiar to his
understanding changed all these imperfections into corresp