“Adieu, then.”  And D’Artagnan poured out a glass of wine.

“To old times,” he said.

“Yes,” returned Aramis.  “Unhappily, those times are past.”

“Nonsense!  They will return,” said D’Artagnan.  “At all events, if you want me, remember the Rue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette.”

“And I shall be at the convent of Jesuits; from six in the morning to eight at night come by the door.  From eight in the evening until six in the morning come in by the window.”

“Adieu, dear friend.”

“Oh, I can’t let you go so!  I will go with you.”  And he took his sword and cloak.

“He wants to be sure that I go away,” said D’Artagnan to himself.

Aramis whistled for Bazin, but Bazin was asleep in the ante-chamber, and Aramis was obliged to shake him by the ear to awake him.

Bazin stretched his arms, rubbed his eyes, and tried to go to sleep again.

“Come, come, sleepy head; quick, the ladder!”

“But,” said Bazin, yawning portentously, “the ladder is still at the window.”

“The other one, the gardener’s.  Didn’t you see that Monsieur d’Artagnan mounted with difficulty?  It will be even more difficult to descend.”

D’Artagnan was about to assure Aramis that he could descend easily, when an idea came into his head which silenced him.

Bazin uttered a profound sigh and went out to look for the ladder.  Presently a good, solid, wooden ladder was placed against the window.

“Now then,” said D’Artagnan, “this is something like; this is a means of communication.  A woman could go up a ladder like that.”

Aramis’s searching look seemed to seek his friend’s thought even at the bottom of his heart, but D’Artagnan sustained the inquisition with an air of admirable simplicity.  Besides, at that moment he put his foot on the first step of the ladder and began his descent.  In a moment he was on the ground.  Bazin remained at the window.

“Stay there,” said Aramis; “I shall return immediately.”

The two friends went toward the shed.  At their approach Planchet came out leading the two horses.

“That is good to see,” said Aramis.  “There is a servant active and vigilant, not like that lazy fellow Bazin, who is no longer good for anything since he became connected with the church.  Follow us, Planchet; we shall continue our conversation to the end of the village.”

They traversed the width of the village, talking of indifferent things, then as they reached the last houses: 

“Go, then, dear friend,” said Aramis, “follow your own career.  Fortune lavishes her smiles upon you; do not let her flee from your embrace.  As for me, I remain in my humility and indolence.  Adieu!”

“Thus ’tis quite decided,” said D’Artagnan, “that what I have to offer to you does not tempt you?”

“On the contrary, it would tempt me were I any other man,” rejoined Aramis; “but I repeat, I am made up of contradictions.  What I hate to-day I adore to-morrow, and vice versa.  You see that I cannot, like you, for instance, settle on any fixed plan.”