“Do you know no one to whose house M. de la Porte can go to get you？”
“No， I will trust nobody.”
“Stop，” said D’Artagnan； “we are near Athos’s door. “Yes， here it is.”
“Who is this Athos？”
“One of my friends.”
“But if he should be at home and see me？”
“He is not at home； and I will carry away the key， after having placed you in his apartment.”
“But if he should return？”
“Oh， he won’t return； and if he should， he will be told that I have brought a lady with me， and that lady is in his apartment.”
“But that will compromise me sadly， you know.”
“Of what consequence can it be to you？ Nobody knows you. Besides， we are in a situation in which we must not be too particular.”
“Come， then， let us go to your friend’s house. Where does he live？”
“Rue Férou， two steps from here.”
“Come， then.”
And both resumed their way. As D’Artagnan had foreseen， Athos was not at home. He took the key， which was usually given him as one of the family， ascended the stairs， and introduced Madame Bonacieux into the little apartment.
“Make yourself at home，” said he. “Wait here， fasten the door inside， and open it to nobody unless you hear three taps like these.” And he tapped thrice—two taps close together and pretty hard， the other after an interval， lighter.
“That is all right，” said Madame Bonacieux. “Now it is my turn to give you my orders.”
“I am all attention.”
“Present yourself at the wicket of the Louvre， towards the Rue de l’Echelle， and ask for Germain.”
“Well， and then？”
“He will ask you what you want， and you will answer by these two words—‘Tours’ and ‘Brussels.’ He will immediately put himself under your orders.”
“And what shall I order him to do？”
“To go and fetch M. de la Porte， the queen’s valet.”
“And when he shall have found him， and M. de la Porte has come？”
“You will send him to me.”
“Very well； but where and how shall I see you again？”
“Do you， then， wish very much to see me again？”
“Certainly I do.”
“Well， let that care be mine， and do not worry.”
“I depend upon your word.”
“Certainly.”
“Very well. Count on me for bringing this about， and have no fear.”
“I may depend on your word？”
“You may.”
D’Artagnan bowed to Madame Bonacieux， darting at her the most loving glance that he could possibly concentrate upon her charming little person； and while he descended the stairs he heard the door closed behind him and double-locked. In two bounds he was at the Louvre. As he entered the wicket of L’Echelle ten o’clock struck. All the events we have just described had taken place within half an hour.
Everything happened as Madame Bonacieux said it would. On hearing the password， Germain bowed； ten minutes after La Porte was at the lodge； with two words D’Artagnan told him what was going on， and informed him where Madame Bonacieux was. La Porte assured himself， by having it twice repeated， of the exact address， and set off at a run. He had， however， scarcely gone ten steps before he returned.
“Young man，” said he to D’Artagnan， “I have a piece of advice to give you.”
“What is it？”
“You may get into trouble by what has taken place.”
“Do you think so？”
“Yes. Have you any friend whose clock is too slow？”
“What then？”
“Go and call upon him， in order that he may give evidence of your having been with him at half-past nine. In law that is called an alibi.”
D’Artagnan found this advice prudent. He took to his heels， and was soon at M. de Tréville’s； but instead of going into the drawing-room with everybody， he asked to be introduced to M. de Tréville’s office. As D’Artagnan was one of the frequenters of the h？tel， no difficulty was made in complying with his request， and a servant went to inform M. de Tréville that his young compatriot， having something important to communicate， solicited a private audience. Five minutes after， M. de Tréville was asking D’Artagnan what he could do for him， and to what he was indebted for his visit at so late an hour.
“Pardon me， sir，” said D’Artagnan， who had profited by the moment he had been left alone to put back M. de Tréville’s clock three-quarters of an hour； “I thought， as it was yet only twenty-five minutes past nine， it was not too late to wait upon you.”
“Twenty five minutes past nine！” cried M. de Tréville， looking at the clock； “why， that’s impossible！”
“Look， rather， sir，” said D’Artagnan； “the clock shows it.”
“That’s true，” said M. de Tréville； “I should have thought it was later. But what can I do for you？”
Then D’Artagnan told M. de Tréville a long history about the queen. He expressed to him the fears he entertained with respect to her Majesty； he related to him what he had heard of the projects of the cardinal with regard to Buckingham； and all with a tranquillity and sereneness which deceived M. de Tréville the more because he had himself， as we have said， observed something new between the cardinal， the king， and the queen.
As ten o’clock was striking D’Artagnan left M. de Tréville， who thanked him for his information， recommended him to have the service of the king and queen always at heart， and returned to the drawing-room. But at the foot of the stairs D’Artagnan remembered he had forgotten his cane. He consequently rushed up again， re-entered the office， with a turn of his finger set the clock right again， that they might not perceive the next day it had been tampered with； and sure henceforth that he had a witness to prove his alibi， he ran downstairs and soon gained the street.
