“It is not necessary for Milady* to be seen by this fellow,” continued the stranger. “She will soon pass; she is already late. I had better get on horseback, and go and meet her. I should like, however, to know what this letter addressed to Tréville contains.” And the stranger, muttering to himself, directed his steps toward the kitchen. * We are well aware that this term, milady, is only properly used when followed by a family name. But we find it thus in the manuscript, and we do not choose to take upon ourselves to alter it. In the meantime, the host, who entertained no doubt that it was the presence of the young man that drove the stranger from his hostelry, re-ascended to his wife’s chamber, and found D’Artagnan just recovering his senses. Giving him to understand that the police would deal with him pretty severely for having sought a quarrel with a great lord—for in the opinion of the host the stranger could be nothing less than a great lord—he insisted that notwithstanding his weakness D’Artagnan should get up and depart as quickly as possible. D’Artagnan, half stupefied, without his doublet, and with his head bound up in a linen cloth, arose then, and urged by the host, began to descend the stairs; but on arriving at the kitchen, the first thing he saw was his antagonist talking calmly at the step of a heavy carriage, drawn by two large Norman horses. His interlocutor, whose head appeared through the carriage window, was a woman of from twenty to two-and-twenty years. We have already observed with what rapidity D’Artagnan seized the expression of a countenance. He perceived then, at a glance, that this woman was young and beautiful; and her style of beauty struck him more forcibly from its being totally different from that of the southern countries in which D’Artagnan had hitherto resided. She was pale and fair, with long curls falling in profusion over her shoulders, had large, blue, languishing eyes, rosy lips, and hands of alabaster. She was talking with great animation with the stranger. “His Eminence, then, orders me—” said the lady. “To return instantly to England, and to inform him as soon as the duke leaves London.” “And as to my other instructions?” asked the fair traveler. “They are contained in this box, which you will not open until you are on the other side of the Channel.” “Very well; and you—what will you do?” “I—I return to Paris.” “What, without chastising this insolent boy?” asked the lady. The stranger was about to reply; but at the moment he opened his mouth, D’Artagnan, who had heard all, precipitated himself over the threshold of the door. “This insolent boy chastises others,” cried he; “and I hope that this time he whom he ought to chastise will not escape him as before.” “Will not escape him?” replied the stranger, knitting his brow. “No; before a woman you would dare not fly, I presume?”