dition
has been a trying one?"

"Yes," said D'Artagnan. A shudder ran down Planchet's back. "I should
like to have something to drink," said the musketeer, raising his head
piteously.

Planchet ran to the cupboard, and poured out to D'Artagnan some wine in
a large glass. D'Artagnan examined the bottle.

"What wine is that?" asked he.

"Alas! that which you prefer, monsieur," said Planchet; "that good old
Anjou wine, which was one day nearly costing us all so dear."

"Ah!" replied D'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, "Ah! my poor
Planchet, ought I still to drink good wine?"

"Come! my dear master," said Planchet, making a super-human effort,
whilst all his contracted muscles, his pallor and his trembling betrayed
the most acute anguish. "Come! I have been a soldier and consequently
have some courage; do not make me linger, dear Monsieur d'Artagnan; our
money is lost, is it not?"

Before he answered, D'Artagnan took his time, and that appeared an age
to the poor grocer. Nevertheless he did nothing but turn about on his
chair.

"And if that were the case," said he, slowly, moving his head up and
down, "if that were the case, what would you say, my dear friend?"

Planchet, from being pale, turned yellow. It might have been thought he
was going to swallow his tongue, so full became his throat, so red were
his eyes!

"Twenty thousand livres!" murmured he. "Twenty thousand livres, and
yet--"

D'Artagnan, with his neck elongated, his legs stretched out, and his
hands hanging listlessly, looked like a statue of discouragement.
Planchet drew up a sigh from the deepest cavities of his breast.

"Well," said he, "I see how it is. Let us be men! It is all over, is it
not? The principal thing is, monsieur, that your life is safe."

"Doubtless! doubtless!--life is something--but I am ruined!"

"_Cordieu!_ monsieur!" said Planchet, "If it is so, we must not despair
for that; you shall become a grocer with me; I shall take you for my
partner, we will share the profits, and if there should be no more
profits, well, why then we shall share the almonds, raisins and prunes,
and we will nibble together the last quarter of Dutch cheese."

D'Artagnan could hold out no longer. "_Mordioux!_" cried he, with great
emotion, "thou art a brave fellow, on my honor, Planchet. You have not
been playing a part, have you? You have not seen the pack-horse with the
bags under the shed yonder?"

"What horse? What bags?" said Planchet, who