icks, turns, counsels, and
traps were all useless, D'Artagnan let nothing confidential escape
him. The evening passed thus. After supper the portmanteau occupied
D'Artagnan, he took a turn to the stable, patted his horse, and examined
his shoes and legs; then, having counted over his money, he went to
bed, sleeping as if only twenty, because he had neither inquietude nor
remorse; he closed his eyes five minutes after he had blown out his
lamp. Many events might, however, have kept him awake. Thought boiled
in his brain, conjectures abounded, and D'Artagnan was a great drawer
of horoscopes; but, with that imperturbable phlegm which does more
than genius for the fortune and happiness of men of action, he put off
reflection till the next day, for fear, he said, not to be fresh when he
wanted to be so.

The day came. The Rue des Lombards had its share of the caresses of
Aurora with the rosy fingers, and D'Artagnan arose like Aurora. He did
not awaken anybody, he placed his portmanteau under his arm, descended
the stairs without making one of them creak, and without disturbing one
of the sonorous snorings in every story from the garret to the cellar,
then, having saddled his horse, shut the stable and house doors, he set
off, at a foot-pace, on his expedition to Bretagne. He had done quite
right not to trouble himself with all the political and diplomatic
affairs which solicited his attention; for, in the morning, in freshness
and mild twilight, his ideas developed themselves in purity and
abundance. In the first place, he passed before the house of Fouquet,
and threw in a large gaping box the fortunate order which, the evening
before, he had had so much trouble to recover from the hooked fingers of
the intendant. Placed in an envelope, and addressed to Fouquet, it
had not even been divined by Planchet, who in divination was equal to
Calchas or the Pythian Apollo. D'Artagnan thus sent back the order to
Fouquet, without compromising himself, and without having thenceforward
any reproaches to make himself. When he had effected this proper
restitution, "Now," he said to himself, "let us inhale much maternal
air, much freedom from cares, much health, let us allow the horse
Zephyr, whose flanks puff as if he had to respire an atmosphere, to
breathe, and let us be very ingenious in our little calculations. It is
time," said D'Artagnan, "to form a plan of the campaign, and, according
to the method of M. Turenne, who has a large hea