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Monsieur Bonacieux

           Atthismomentthedoorwasopenedquickly,andamessenger,introducedbyoneofthegatekeepersoftheBastille,gavealettertothecommissary.

           "Oh,unhappywoman!"criedthecommissary.

           "How?Whatdoyousay?Ofwhomdoyouspeak?Itisnotofmywife,Ihope!"

           "Onthecontrary,itisofher.Yoursisaprettybusiness."

           "But,"saidtheagitatedmercer,"domethepleasure,monsieur,totellmehowmyownproperaffaircanbecomeworsebyanythingmywifedoeswhileIaminprison?"

           "Becausethatwhichshedoesispartofaplanconcertedbetweenyouofaninfernalplan."

           "Isweartoyou,MonsieurCommissary,thatyouareintheprofoundesterror,thatIknownothingintheworldaboutwhatmywifehadtodo,thatIamentirelyastrangertowhatshehasdone;andthatifshehascommittedanyfollies,Irenounceher,Iabjureher,Icurseher!"

           "Bah!"saidAthostothecommissary,"ifyouhavenomoreneedofme,sendmesomewhere.YourMonsieurBonacieuxisverytiresome."

           ThecommissarydesignatedbythesamegestureAthosandBonacieux,"Letthembeguardedmorecloselythanever."

           "Andyet,"saidAthos,withhishabitualcalmness,"ifitbeMonsieurd’Artagnanwhoisconcernedinthismatter,IdonotperceivehowIcantakehisplace."

           "DoasIbadeyou,"criedthecommissary,"andpreserveabsolutesecrecy.Youunderstand!"

           Athosshruggedhisshoulders,andfollowedhisguardssilently,whileM.Bonacieuxutteredlamentationsenoughtobreaktheheartofatiger.

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