“Do speak it, nevertheless.”

D’Artagnan twisted his mustache like a man embarrassed with the confidence he is about to make and mistrustful of his confidant.

“Is it an investment?” asked Planchet.

“Why, yes.”

“At good profit?”

“A capital profit, — four hundred per cent, Planchet.”

Planchet gave such a blow with his fist upon the table, that the bottles bounded as if they had been frightened.

“Good heavens! is that possible?”

“I think it will be more,” replied D’Artagnan coolly; “but I like to lay it at the lowest!”

“The devil!” said Planchet, drawing nearer.  “Why, monsieur, that is magnificent!  Can one put much money in it?”

“Twenty thousand livres each, Planchet.”

“Why, that is all you have, monsieur.  For how long a time?”

“For a month.”

“And that will give us — "

“Fifty thousand livres each, profit.”

“It is monstrous!  It is worth while to fight for such interest as that!”

“In fact, I believe it will be necessary to fight not a little,” said D’Artagnan, with the same tranquillity; “but this time there are two of us, Planchet, and I shall take all the blows to myself.”

“Oh! monsieur, I will not allow that.”

“Planchet, you cannot be concerned in it; you would be obliged to leave your business and your family.”

“The affair is not in Paris, then.”

“No.”

“Abroad?”

“In England.”

“A speculative country, that is true,” said Planchet, — “a country that I know well.  What sort of an affair, monsieur, without too much curiosity?”

“Planchet, it is a restoration.”

“Of monuments?”

“Yes, of monuments; we shall restore Whitehall.”

“That is important.  And in a month, you think?”

“I shall undertake it.”

“That concerns you, monsieur, and when once you are engaged — "

“Yes, that concerns me.  I know what I am about; nevertheless, I will freely consult with you.”

“You do me great honor; but I know very little about architecture.”

“Planchet, you are wrong; you are an excellent architect, quite as good as I am, for the case in question.”

“Thanks, monsieur.  But your old friends of the musketeers?”

“I have been, I confess, tempted to speak of the thing to those gentlemen, but they are all absent from their houses.  It is vexatious, for I know none more bold or able.”

“Ah! then it appears there will be an opposition, and the enterprise will be disputed?”

“Oh, yes, Planchet, yes.”

“I burn to know the details, monsieur.”

“Here they are, Planchet — close all the doors tight.”

“Yes, monsieur.”  And Planchet double-locked them.

“That is well; now draw near.”  Planchet obeyed.

“And open the window, because the noise of the passers-by and the carts will deafen all who might hear us.”  Planchet opened the window as desired, and the gust of tumult which filled the chamber with cries, wheels, barkings, and steps deafened D’Artagnan himself, as he had wished.  He then swallowed a glass of white wine, and began in these terms:  “Planchet, I have an idea.”