der," said D'Artagnan to himself, "is the man for my
money. He will do, he suits me; I ought to do for him and suit him; M.
Agnan, with the gray doublet and the rusty _calotte_, is not unworthy of
supping with the gentleman of the old boots and still older horse."

This said, D'Artagnan called the host, and desired him to send his
teal, _tourteau_, and cider up to the chamber of the gentleman of modest
exterior. He himself climbed, a plate in his hand, the wooden staircase
which led to the chamber, and began to knock at the door.

"Come in!" said the unknown. D'Artagnan entered, with a simper on his
lips, his plate under his arm, his hat in one hand, his candle in the
other.

"Excuse me, monsieur," said he, "I am as you are, a traveler; I know no
one in the hotel, and I have the bad habit of losing my spirits when
I eat alone; so that my repast appears a bad one to me, and does not
nourish me. Your face, which I saw just now, when you came down to
have some oysters opened,--your face pleased me much. Besides, I have
observed you have a horse just like mine, and that the host, no doubt on
account of that resemblance, has placed them side by side in the
stable, where they appear to agree amazingly well together. I therefore,
monsieur, do not see any reason why the masters should be separated when
the horses are united. Accordingly, I am come to request the pleasure
of being admitted to your table. My name is Agnan, at your service,
monsieur, the unworthy steward of a rich seigneur, who wishes to
purchase some salt-mines in this country, and sends me to examine his
future acquisitions. In truth, monsieur, I should be well pleased if
my countenance were as agreeable to you as yours is to me; for, upon my
honor, I am quite at your service."

The stranger, whom D'Artagnan saw for the first time,--for before he
had only caught a glimpse of him,--the stranger had black and brilliant
eyes, a yellow complexion, a brow a little wrinkled by the weight of
fifty years, _bonhomie_ in his features collectively, but some cunning
in his look.

"One would say," thought D'Artagnan, "that this merry fellow has never
exercised more than the upper part of his head, his eyes, and his
brain. He must be a man of science: his mouth, nose, and chin signify
absolutely nothing."

"Monsieur," replied the latter, with whose mind and person we have been
making so free, "you do me much honor; not that I am ever _ennuye_,
for I have," added he, sm