the moment he reached the little port of Pirial, five
large barges, laden with stone, were leaving it. It appeared strange
to D'Artagnan, that stones should be leaving a country where none are
found. He had recourse to all the amenity of M. Agnan to learn from
the people of the port the cause of this singular arrangement. An old
fisherman replied to M. Agnan, that the stones very certainly did not
come from Pirial or the marshes.

"Where do they come from, then?" asked the musketeer.

"Monsieur, they come from Nantes and Painboeuf."

"Where are they going, then?"

"Monsieur, to Belle-Isle."

"Ah! ah!" said D'Artagnan, in the same tone he had assumed to tell
the printer that his character interested him; "are they building at
Belle-Isle, then?"

"Why, yes, monsieur, M. Fouquet has the walls of the castle repaired
every year."

"Is it in ruins, then?"

"It is old."

"Thank you."

"The fact is," said D'Artagnan to himself, "nothing is more natural;
every proprietor has a right to repair his own property. It would be
like telling me I was fortifying the Image-de-Notre-Dame, when I was
simply obliged to make repairs. In good truth, I believe false reports
have been made to his majesty, and he is very likely to be in the
wrong."

"You must confess," continued he then, aloud, and addressing the
fisherman--for his part of a suspicious man was imposed upon him by the
object even of his mission--"you must confess, my dear monsieur, that
these stones travel in a very curious fashion."

"How so?" said the fisherman

"They come from Nantes or Painboeuf by the Loire, do they not?"

"With the tide."

"That is convenient,--I don't say it is not, but why do they not go
straight from Saint-Nazaire to Belle-Isle?"

"Eh! because the chalands (barges) are fresh-water boats, and take the
sea badly," replied, the fisherman.

"That is not sufficient reason."

"Pardon me, monsieur, one may see that you have never been a sailor,
added the fisherman, not without a sort of disdain.

"Explain that to me, if you please, my good man. It appears to me that
to come from Painboeuf to Pirial, and go from Pirial to Belle-Isle, is
as if we went from Roche-Bernard to Nantes, and from Nantes to Pirial."

"By water that would be the nearest way," replied the fisherman
imperturbably.

"But there is an elbow?"

The fisherman shook his head.

"The shortest road from one place to another is a straight line,"
continued D'Artagnan.