“‘And when did he set out?’
“‘Yesterday evening.’”
“Planchet, my friend,” interrupted D’Artagnan, “you are really a precious fellow.”
“You will understand, monsieur, I thought there would be still time, if you wish, to see Monsieur de Cavois to contradict me by saying you were not yet gone. The falsehood would then lie at my door, and as I am not a gentleman, I may be allowed to lie.”
“Be of good heart, Planchet, you shall preserve your reputation as a veracious man. In a quarter of an hour we set off.”
“That’s the advice I was about to give Monsieur; and where are we going, may I ask, without being too curious?”
“Pardieu! In the opposite direction to that which you said I was gone. Besides, are you not as anxious to learn news of Grimaud, Mousqueton, and Bazin as I am to know what has become of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis?”
“Yes, monsieur,” said Planchet, “and I will go as soon as you please. Indeed, I think provincial air will suit us much better just now than the air of Paris. So then—”
“So then, pack up our luggage, Planchet, and let us be off. On my part, I will go out with my hands in my pockets, that nothing may be suspected. You may join me at the Hôtel des Gardes. By the way, Planchet, I think you are right with respect to our host, and that he is decidedly a frightfully low wretch.”
“Ah, monsieur, you may take my word when I tell you anything. I am a physiognomist, I assure you.”