consumed a liqueur which preserves its reputation to our time and which is still made in that town.

“Let us alight here,” said Athos. “D’Artagnan will not have let slip an opportunity of drinking a glass of this liqueur, and at the same time leaving some trace of himself.”

They went into the town and asked for two glasses of liqueur, at the counter — as their friends must have done before them.

The counter was covered with a plate of pewter; upon this plate was written with the point of a large pin: “Rueil� D..”

“They went to Rueil,” cried Aramis.

“Let us go to Rueil,” said Athos.