erit of doing so at once?"

"Is there no merit in repentance?"

"And do you really repent?"

"I know nothing about it myself. But what I know is that I promise to do
all you wish if you allow me to accompany you where you are going."

"And you will leave me then?"

"Yes."

"Without waiting for my coming out again?"

"Yes."

"Word of honor?"

"By the faith of a gentleman. Take my arm, and let us go."

D'Artagnan offered his arm to Mme. Bonacieux, who willingly took it,
half laughing, half trembling, and both gained the top of Rue de la
Harpe. Arriving there, the young woman seemed to hesitate, as she had
before done in the Rue Vaugirard. She seemed, however, by certain signs,
to recognize a door, and approaching that door, "And now, monsieur,"
said she, "it is here I have business; a thousand thanks for your
honorable company, which has saved me from all the dangers to which,
alone I was exposed. But the moment is come to keep your word; I have
reached my destination."

"And you will have nothing to fear on your return?"

"I shall have nothing to fear but robbers."

"And that is nothing?"

"What could they take from me? I have not a penny about me."

"You forget that beautiful handkerchief with the coat of arms."

"Which?"

"That which I found at your feet, and replaced in your pocket."

"Hold your tongue, imprudent man! Do you wish to destroy me?"

"You see very plainly that there is still danger for you, since a single
word makes you tremble; and you confess that if that word were heard
you would be ruined. Come, come, madame!" cried d'Artagnan, seizing her
hands, and surveying her with an ardent glance, "come, be more generous.
Confide in me. Have you not read in my eyes that there is nothing but
devotion and sympathy in my heart?"

"Yes," replied Mme. Bonacieux; "therefore, ask my own secrets, and I
will reveal them to you; but those of others--that is quite another
thing."

"Very well," said d'Artagnan, "I shall discover them; as these secrets
may have an influence over your life, these secrets must become mine."

"Beware of what you do!" cried the young woman, in a manner so serious
as to make d'Artagnan start in spite of himself. "Oh, meddle in
nothing which concerns me. Do not seek to assist me in that which I am
accomplishing. This I ask of you in the name of the interest with which
I inspire you, in the name of the service you have rendered me and which
I never shall forget while I