d'Artagnan completed his short journey, and arrived at
St. Germain. He had just passed by the pavilion in which ten years later
Louis XIV was born. He rode up a very quiet street, looking to the
right and the left to see if he could catch any vestige of his beautiful
Englishwoman, when from the ground floor of a pretty house, which,
according to the fashion of the time, had no window toward the street,
he saw a face peep out with which he thought he was acquainted. This
person walked along the terrace, which was ornamented with flowers.
Planchet recognized him first.

"Eh, monsieur!" said he, addressing d'Artagnan, "don't you remember that
face which is blinking yonder?"

"No," said d'Artagnan, "and yet I am certain it is not the first time I
have seen that visage."

"PARBLEU, I believe it is not," said Planchet. "Why, it is poor Lubin,
the lackey of the Comte de Wardes--he whom you took such good care of a
month ago at Calais, on the road to the governor's country house!"

"So it is!" said d'Artagnan; "I know him now. Do you think he would
recollect you?"

"My faith, monsieur, he was in such trouble that I doubt if he can have
retained a very clear recollection of me."

"Well, go and talk with the boy," said d'Artagnan, "and make out if you
can from his conversation whether his master is dead."

Planchet dismounted and went straight up to Lubin, who did not at
all remember him, and the two lackeys began to chat with the best
understanding possible; while d'Artagnan turned the two horses into a
lane, went round the house, and came back to watch the conference from
behind a hedge of filberts.

At the end of an instant's observation he heard the noise of a vehicle,
and saw Milady's carriage stop opposite to him. He could not be
mistaken; Milady was in it. D'Artagnan leaned upon the neck of his
horse, in order that he might see without being seen.

Milady put her charming blond head out at the window, and gave her
orders to her maid.

The latter--a pretty girl of about twenty or twenty-two years, active
and lively, the true SOUBRETTE of a great lady--jumped from the step
upon which, according to the custom of the time, she was seated, and
took her way toward the terrace upon which d'Artagnan had perceived
Lubin.

D'Artagnan followed the soubrette with his eyes, and saw her go toward
the terrace; but it happened that someone in the house called Lubin,
so that Planchet remained alone, looking in all directions