Planchet with one bound was beside his guest, whom he offered to lead
into the garden.

"What!" said Porthos to D'Artagnan, as he turned round, "are you going to
remain here?"

"Yes, I will join you presently."

"Well, M. D'Artagnan is right, after all," said Planchet: "are they
beginning to bury yet?"

"Not yet."

"Ah! yes, the grave-digger is waiting until the cords are fastened round
the bier. But, see, a woman has just entered the cemetery at the other
end."

"Yes, yes, my dear Planchet," said D'Artagnan, quickly, "leave me, leave
me; I feel I am beginning already to be much comforted by my meditations,
so do not interrupt me."

Planchet left, and D'Artagnan remained, devouring with his eager gaze
from behind the half-closed blinds what was taking place just before
him. The two bearers of the corpse had unfastened the straps by which
they carried the litter, and were letting their burden glide gently into
the open grave. At a few paces distant, the man with the cloak wrapped
round him, the only spectator of this melancholy scene, was leaning with
his back against a large cypress-tree, and kept his face and person
entirely concealed from the grave-diggers and the priests; the corpse was