“Oh, oh!” said D’Artagnan, seriously, “an excuse, eh?”

“Yes, monsieur: and monsieur le comte is not going to Paris, I will swear.”

“What makes you think so?”

“This, — M. Grimaud always knows where our master is going; and he had promised me that the first time he went to Paris, he would take a little money for me to my wife.”

“What, have you a wife, then?”

“I had one — she was of this country; but monsieur thought her a noisy scold, and I sent her to Paris; it is sometimes inconvenient, but very agreeable at others.”

“I understand; but go on. You do not believe the count gone to Paris?”