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The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Vicomte De Bragelonne 57 at Prostate Health
then?""A gentleman whom I dont know, an old man, and M. Grimaud.""Such a party cannot travel as fast as I can -- I willstart.""Will monsieur listen to me an instant?" said Blaisois,laying his hand gently on the reins of the horse."Yes, if you dont favor me with fine speeches, and makehaste.""Well, then, monsieur, that word Paris appears to me to beonly an excuse.""Oh, oh!" said DArtagnan, seriously, "an excuse, eh?""Yes, monsieur; and monsieur le comte is not going to Paris,I will swear.""What makes you think so?""This -- M. Grimaud always knows where our master is going;and he had promised me that the first time he went to Paris,he would take a little money for me to my wife.""What, have you a wife, then?""I had one -- she was of this country; but monsieur thoughther a noisy scold, and I sent her to Paris; it is sometimesinconvenient, but very agreeable at others.""I understand; but go on. You do not believe the count goneto Paris?""No, monsieur; for then M. Grimaud would have broken hisword; he would have perjured himself, and that isimpossible.""That is impossible," repeated DArtagnan, quite in a study,because he was quite convinced. "Well, my brave Blaisois,many thanks to you."Blaisois bowed."Come, you know I am not curious -- I have serious businesswith your master. Could you not, by a little bit of a word-- you who speak so well -- give me to understand -- onesyllable, only -- I will guess the rest.""Upon my word, monsieur, I cannot. I am quite ignorant wheremonsieur le comte is gone. As to listening at doors, that iscontrary to my nature; and besides it is forbidden here.""My dear fellow," said DArtagnan, "this is a very badbeginning for me. Never mind, you know when monsieur lecomte will return, at least?""As little, monsieur, as the place of his destination.""Come, Blaisois, come, search.""Monsieur doubts my sincerity? Ah, monsieur, that grieves memuch.""The devil take his gilded tongue!" grumbled DArtagnan. "Aclown with a word would be worth a dozen of him. Adieu!""Monsieur, I have the honor to present you my respects.""Cuistre!" said DArtagnan to himself, "the fellow isunbearable." He gave another look up to the house, turnedhis horses head, and set off like a man who has nothingeither annoying or embarrassing in his mind. When he was atthe end of the wall, and out of sight, -- "Well, now, Iwonder," said he, breathing quickly, "whether Athos was athome. No; all those idlers, standing with their armscrossed, would have been at work if the eye of the masterwas near. Athos gone a journey? -- that is incomprehensible.Bah! it is all devilish mysterious! And then -- no -- he isnot the man I want. I want one of a cunning, patient mind.My business is at Melun, in a certain presbytery I amacquainted with. Forty-five leagues -- four days and a half!Well, it is fine weather, and I am free. Never mind thedistance!"And he put his horse into a trot, directing his coursetowards Paris. On the fourth day he alighted at Melun as hehad intended.DArtagnan was never in the habit of asking any one on theroad for any common information. For these sorts of details,unless in very serious circumstances, he confided in hisperspicacity, which was so seldom at fault, in hisexperience of thirty years, and in a great habit of readingthe physiognomies of houses, as well as those of men. AtMelun, DArtagnan immediately found the presbytery -- acharming house, plastered over red brick, with vinesclimbing along the gutters, and a cross, in carved stone,surmounting the ridge of the roof. From the ground-floor ofthis house came a noise, or rather a confusion of voices,like the chirping of young birds when the brood is justhatched under the down. One of these voices was spelling thealphabet distinctly. A voice, thick, yet pleasant, at thesame time scolded the talkers and corrected the faults ofthe reader. DArtagnan recognized that voice, and as thewindow of the ground-floor was open, he leant down from hishorse under the branches and red fibers of the vine andcried "Bazin, my dear Bazin! good-day to you."A short, fat man, with a flat face, a craniun ornamentedwith a crown of gray hairs, cut short, in imitation of atonsure, and covered with an old black velvet
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