grumbled the host, drawing near to d’Artagnan, and endeavoring by this little flattery to make up matters with the young man, as the heron of the fable did with the snail he had despised the evening before.

“Yes, a base coward,” murmured d’Artagnan; “but she — she was very beautiful.”

“What she?” demanded the host.

“Milady,” faltered d’Artagnan, and fainted a second time.

“Ah, it’s all one,” said the host; “I have lost two customers, but this one remains, of whom I am pretty certain for some days to come. There will be eleven crowns gained.”

It is to be remembered that eleven crowns was just the sum that remained in d’Artagnan’s