heading of this letter; it was dated from the Chateau du Vallon.

Porthos had forgotten that any other address was necessary; in his pride he fancied that every one must know the Chateau du Vallon.

“Devil take the vain fellow,” said D’Artagnan. “However, I had better find him out first, since he can’t want money. Athos must have become an idiot by this time from drinking. Aramis must have worn himself to a shadow of his former self by constant genuflexion.”

He cast his eyes again on the letter. There was a postscript:

“I write by the same courier to our worthy friend Aramis in his convent.”

“In his convent! What convent? There are