It was past midnight; the next thing was to find Planchet. D’Artagnan went successively into all the cabarets in which there was a light, but could not find Planchet in any of them.
At the sixth he began to reflect that the search was rather dubious. D’Artagnan had appointed six o’clock in the morning for his lackey, and wherever he might be, he was right.
Besides, it came into the young man’s mind that by remaining in the environs of the spot on which this sad event had passed, he would, perhaps, have some light thrown upon the mysterious affair. At the sixth cabaret, then, as we said, d’Artagnan stopped, asked for a bottle of wine of the best quality, and placing himself in the darkest corner of the room, determined thus to wait till daylight; but this time again his hopes were disappointed, and although he listened with all his ears, he heard nothing, amid the oaths, coarse jokes, and abuse which passed between the laborers, servants, and carters who comprised the honorable society of which he formed a part, which could put him upon the least track of her who had been stolen from him. He was