Everything fell out as Madame Bonacieux prophesied. On hearing the password, Germain bowed. In a few minutes, Laporte was at the lodge; in two words d’Artagnan informed him where Madame Bonacieux was. Laporte assured himself, by having it twice repeated, of the accurate address, and set off at a run. Hardly, however, had he taken ten steps before he returned.
“Young man,” said he to d’Artagnan, “a suggestion.”
“What?”
“You may get into trouble by what has taken place.”
“You believe so?”
“Yes. Have you any friend whose clock is too slow?”
“Well?”
“Go and call upon him, in order that he may give evidence of your having been with him at half past nine. In a court of justice that is called an alibi.”
D’Artagnan found his advice prudent. He took to his heels, and was soon at M. de Tréville’s; but instead of going into the saloon with the rest of the crowd, he asked to be introduced to M. de Tréville’s office. As d’Artagnan so constantly frequented the hotel, no difficulty was made in complying with his request, and a servant went to inform M. de Tréville that his young compatriot, having something important to communicate, solicited a private audience. Five minutes after, M. de Tréville was asking d’Artagnan what he could do to serve him, and what caused his visit at so late an hour.
“Pardon me, Monsieur,” said d’Artagnan, who had profited by the moment he had been left alone to put back M. de Tréville’s clock three-quarters