He was confessing to himself that he belonged to the latter unhappy class, when Planchet approached and said: “I will lay a wager, your honor, that you and I are thinking of the same thing.” “I doubt it, Planchet,” replied D’Artagnan, “but what are you thinking of?” “I am thinking, sir, of those desperate looking men who were drinking in the inn where we rested.” “Always cautious, Planchet.” “’Tis instinct, your honor.” “Well, what does your instinct tell you now?” “Sir, my instinct told me that those people were assembled there for some bad purpose; and I was reflecting on what my instinct had told me, in the darkest corner of the stable, when a man wrapped in a cloak and followed by two other men, came in.” “Ah ah!” said D’Artagnan, Planchet’s recital agreeing with his own observations. “Well?” “One of these two men said, ‘He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this evening, for I have seen his servant.’ “‘Art thou sure?’ said the man in the cloak. “‘Yes, my prince.’” “My prince!” interrupted D’Artagnan. “Yes, ‘my prince;’ but listen. ‘If he is here’—this is what the other man said—‘let’s see decidedly what to do with him.’ “‘What to do with him?’ answered the prince. “‘Yes, he’s not a man to allow himself to be taken anyhow; he’ll defend himself.’ “‘Well, we must try to take him alive. Have you cords to bind him with and a gag to stop his mouth?’ “‘We have.’ “‘Remember that he will most likely be disguised as a horseman.’ “‘Yes, yes, my lord; don’t be uneasy.’ “‘Besides, I shall be there.’ “‘You will assure us that justice——’ “‘Yes, yes! I answer for all that,’ the prince said. “‘Well, then, we’ll do our best.’ Having said that, they went out of the stable.” “Well, what matters all that to us?” said D’Artagnan. “This is one of those attempts that happen every day.” “Are you sure that we are not its objects?” “We? Why?” “Just remember what they said. ‘I have seen his servant,’ said one, and that applies very well to me.” “Well?” “‘He must certainly be at Noisy, or be coming there this evening,’ said the other; and that applies very well to you.” “What else?” “Then the prince said: ‘Take notice that in all probability he will be disguised as a cavalier;’ which seems to me to leave no room for doubt, since you are dressed as a cavalier and not as an officer of musketeers. Now then, what do you say to that?” “Alas! my dear Planchet,” said D’Artagnan, sighing, “we are unfortunately no longer in those times in which princes would care to assassinate me. Those were good old days; never fear—these people owe us no grudge.” “Is your honor _sure?_” “I can answer for it they do not.” “Well, we won’t speak of it any more, then;” and Planchet took his place in D’Artagnan’s suite with that sublime confidence he had always had in his master, which even fifteen years of separation had not destroyed. They had traveled onward about half a mile when Planchet came close up to D’Artagnan.