“Monsieur, I beg you to believe that in that case I should be so much afflicted at your death, that I should not think about the money.”
“Thank you, Planchet; but no matter. We shall, like two lawyers’ clerks, draw up together an agreement, a sort of act, which may be called a deed of company.”
“Willingly, monsieur.”
“I know it is difficult to draw such a thing up, but we can try.”
“Let us try, then.” And Planchet went in search of pens, ink, and paper. D’Artagnan took the pen and wrote: — ”Between Messire d’Artagnan, ex-lieutenant of the king’s musketeers, at present residing in the Rue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette; and the Sieur Planchet, grocer, residing in the Rue des Lombards, at the sign of the Pilon d’Or,