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The Pavilion

           Bonacieuxonceagain,andsatisfyhimselfthathehadnotbeenmistaken,thattheappointmentwasatSt.Cloudandnotelsewhere,beforetheD’Estrees’spavilionandnotinanotherstreet.Everythingconspiredtoprovetod’Artagnanthathispresentimentshadnotdeceivedhim,andthatagreatmisfortunehadhappened.

           Heagainranbacktothechateau.Itappearedtohimthatsomethingmighthavehappenedatthepavilioninhisabsence,andthatfreshinformationawaitedhim.Thelanewasstilldeserted,andthesamecalmsoftlightshonethroughthewindow.

           D’Artagnanthenthoughtofthatcottage,silentandobscure,whichhadnodoubtseenall,andcouldtellitstale.Thegateoftheenclosurewasshut;butheleapedoverthehedge,andinspiteofthebarkingofachained-updog,wentuptothecabin.

           Nooneansweredtohisfirstknocking.Asilenceofdeathreignedinthecabinasinthepavilion;butasthecabinwashislastresource,heknockedagain.

           Itsoonappearedtohimthatheheardaslightnoisewithinatimidnoisewhichseemedtotremblelestitshouldbeheard.

           Thend’Artagnanceasedknocking,andprayedwithanaccentsofullofanxietyandpromises,terrorandcajolery,thathisvoicewasofanaturetoreassurethemostfearful.Atlengthanold,worm-eatenshutterwasopened,orratherpushedajar,butclosedagainassoonasthelightfromamiserablelampwhichburnedinthecornerhadshoneuponthebaldric,swordbelt,andpistolpommelsofd’Artagnan.

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