He was confessing to himself that he belonged to the latter unhappy class, when Planchet approached and said:

“I will lay a wager, your honor, that you and I are thinking of the same thing.”

“I doubt it, Planchet,” replied D’Artagnan, “but what are you thinking of?”

“I am thinking, sir, of those desperate looking men who were drinking in the inn where we rested.”

“Always cautious, Planchet.”

“‘Tis instinct, your honor.”

“Well, what does your instinct tell you now?”

“Sir, my instinct told me that those people were assembled there for some bad purpose; and I was reflecting on what my instinct had told me, in the darkest corner of the stable, when a man wrapped in a cloak and followed by two other men, came in.”