"Arrange it that we may sup alone; I want to speak to you."

Planchet looked at his old master in a significant manner.

"Oh, don't be uneasy, it is nothing unpleasant," said D'Artagnan.

"So much the better - so much the better!" And Planchet breathed freely
again, whilst D'Artagnan seated himself quietly down in the shop, upon a
bale of corks, and made a survey of the premises. The shop was well
stocked; there was a mingled perfume of ginger, cinnamon, and ground
pepper, which made D'Artagnan sneeze. The shop-boy, proud of being in
company with so renowned a warrior, of a lieutenant of musketeers, who
approached the person of the king, began to work with an enthusiasm which
was something like delirium, and to serve the customers with a disdainful
haste that was noticed by several.

Planchet put away his money, and made up his accounts, amidst civilities
addressed to his former master. Planchet had with his equals the short
speech and haughty familiarity of the rich shopkeeper who serves
everybody and waits for nobody. D'Artagnan observed this habit with a
pleasure which we shall analyze presently. He saw night come on by
degrees, and at length Planchet conducted him to a chamber on the first
story, where, amidst bales and chests, a table very nicely set out
awaited the two guests.

D'Artagnan took advantage of a moment's pause to examine the countenance
of Planchet, whom he had not seen for a year. The shrewd Planchet had
acquired a slight protuberance in front, but his countenance was not
puffed. His keen eye still played with facility in its deep-sunk orbit;