This greatness of spirit in a man who was quite destitute struck even Porthos; and this French generosity, repeated by Lord de Winter and his friend, was highly applauded, except by MM. Grimaud, Bazin, Mousqueton and Planchet. Lord de Winter, on quitting D’Artagnan, gave him his sister’s address. She lived in the Place Royale—then the fashionable quarter—at Number 6, and he undertook to call and take D’Artagnan with him in order to introduce him. D’Artagnan appointed eight o’clock at Athos’s residence. This introduction to Milady Clarik occupied the head of our Gascon greatly. He remembered in what a strange manner this woman had hitherto been mixed up in his destiny. According to his conviction, she was some creature of the cardinal, and yet he felt himself invincibly drawn toward her by one of those sentiments for which we cannot account. His only fear was that Milady would recognize in him the man of Meung and of Dover. Then she knew that he was one of the friends of M. de Tréville, and consequently, that he belonged body and soul to the king; which would make him lose a part of his advantage, since when known to Milady as he knew her, he played only an equal game with her. As to the commencement of an intrigue between her and M. de Wardes, our presumptuous hero gave but little heed to that, although the marquis was young, handsome, rich, and high in the cardinal’s favor. It is not for nothing we are but twenty years old, above all if we were born at Tarbes. D’Artagnan began by making his most splendid toilet, then returned to Athos’s, and according to custom, related everything to him. Athos listened to his projects, then shook his head, and recommended prudence to him with a shade of bitterness. “What!” said he, “you have just lost one woman, whom you call good, charming, perfect; and here you are, running headlong after another.” D’Artagnan felt the truth of this reproach. “I loved Madame Bonacieux with my heart, while I only love Milady with my head,” said he. “In getting introduced to her, my principal object is to ascertain what part she plays at court.” “The part she plays, _pardieu!_ It is not difficult to divine that, after all you have told me. She is some emissary of the cardinal; a woman who will draw you into a snare in which you will leave your head.” “The devil! my dear Athos, you view things on the dark side, methinks.” “My dear fellow, I mistrust women. Can it be otherwise? I bought my experience dearly—particularly fair women. Milady is fair, you say?” “She has the most beautiful light hair imaginable!” “Ah, my poor D’Artagnan!” said Athos. “Listen to me! I want to be enlightened on a subject; then, when I shall have learned what I desire to know, I will withdraw.” “Be enlightened!” said Athos, phlegmatically.