some nightly expedition. A man, wrapped in a cloak, appeared at the door, but seeing a stranger he beckoned to his companions, and two men who were drinking in the inn went out to speak to him.

D’Artagnan, on his side, went up to the landlady, praised her wine — which was a horrible production from the country of Montreuil — and heard from her that there were only two houses of importance in the village; one of these belonged to the Archbishop of Paris, and was at that time the abode of his niece the Duchess of Longueville; the other was a convent of Jesuits and was the property — a by no means unusual circumstance — of these worthy fathers.

At four o’clock D’Artagnan recommenced his journey. He proceeded slowly and in deep reverie.