“The devil! The devil!” murmured d’Artagnan; “all this is vague enough. From whom have you learned of the abduction of your wife?”
“From M. Laporte.”
“Did he give you any details?”
“He knew none himself.”
“And you have learned nothing from any other quarter?”
“Yes, I have received—”
“What?”
“I fear I am committing a great imprudence.”
“You always come back to that; but I must make you see this time that it is too late to retreat.”
“I do not retreat, mordieu !” cried the citizen, swearing in order to rouse his courage. “Besides, by the faith of Bonacieux—”
“You call yourself Bonacieux?” interrupted d’Artagnan.
“Yes, that is my name.”
“You said, then, by the word of Bonacieux. Pardon me for interrupting you, but it appears to me that that name is familiar to me.”
“Possibly, Monsieur. I am your landlord.”
“Ah, ah!” said d’Artagnan, half rising and bowing; “you are my landlord?”
“Yes, Monsieur, yes. And as it is three months since you have been here, and though, distracted as you must be in your important