Suddenly Planchet entered, bringing two letters for DArtagnan.
The one was a little billet, genteelly folded, with a pretty seal in green wax on which was impressed a dove bearing a green branch.
The other was a large square epistle, resplendent with the terrible arms of his Eminence the cardinal duke.
At the sight of the little letter the heart of DArtagnan bounded, for he believed he recognized the handwriting, and although he had seen that writing but once, the memory of it remained at the bottom of his heart.
He therefore seized the little epistle, and opened it eagerly.
Be, said the letter, on Thursday next, at from six to seven oclock in the evening, on the road to Chaillot, and look carefully into the carriages that pass; but if you have any consideration for your own life
