“How is this?” said he, “you are rich and not gay — you, who were so anxious for wealth!”

“My friend, the pleasures to which we are not accustomed oppress us more than the griefs with which we are familiar.  Give me your opinion, if you please.  I can ask you, who have always had money:  when we have money, what do we do with it?”

“That depends.”

“What have you done with yours, seeing that it has not made you a miser or a prodigal?  For avarice dries up the heart, and prodigality drowns it — is that not so?”

“Fabricius could not have spoken more justly.  But in truth, my money has never been a burden to me.”

“How so?  Do you place it out at interest?”

“No; you know I have a tolerably handsome house; and that house composes the better part of my property.”

“I know it does.”

“So that you can be as rich as I am, and, indeed, more rich, whenever you like, by the same means.”

“But your rents, — do you lay them by?”

“No.”

“What do you think of a chest concealed in a wall?”

“I never made use of such a thing.”

“Then you must have some confidant, some safe man of business who pays you interest at a fair rate.”

“Not at all.”

“Good heavens! what do you do with it, then?”

“I spend all I have, and I only have what I spend, my dear D’Artagnan.”

“Ah! that may be.  But you are something of a prince; fifteen or sixteen thousand livres melt away between your fingers; and then you have expenses and appearances — "

“Well, I don’t see why you should be less of a noble than I am, my friend; your money would be quite sufficient.”

“Three hundred thousand livres!  Two-thirds too much!”

“I beg your pardon — did you not tell me? — I thought I heard you say — I fancied you had a partner — "

“Ah! Mordioux! that’s true,” cried D’Artagnan, coloring; “there is Planchet.  I had forgotten Planchet, upon my life!  Well! there are my three hundred thousand livres broken into.  That’s a pity! it was a round sum, and sounded well.  That is true, Athos; I am no longer rich.  What a memory you have!”

“Tolerably good; yes, thank God!”

“The worthy Planchet!” grumbled D’Artagnan; “his was not a bad dream!  What a speculation! Peste! Well! what is said is said.”

“How much are you to give him?”

“Oh!” said D’Artagnan, “he is not a bad fellow; I shall arrange matters with him.  I have had a great deal of trouble, you see, and expenses; all that must be taken into account.”

“My dear friend, I can depend on you, and have no fear for the worthy Planchet; his interests are better in your hands than in his own.  But now that you have nothing more to do here, we shall depart, if you please.  You can go and thank his majesty, ask if he has any commands, and in six days we may be able to get sight of the towers of Notre Dame.”