The peasant, recognizing Planchet, called him "the master," to the grocer's great satisfaction.

"Stable the horses well, old fellow, and you shall have something good for yourself," said Planchet.
"Yes, yes; fine animals they are too," said the peasant.

"Oh! they shall have as much as they like." "Gently, gently, my man," said D'Artagnan, "we are getting on a little too fast.

A few oats and a good bed--nothing more." "Some bran and water for my horse," said Porthos, "for it is very warm, I think." "Don't be afraid, gentlemen," replied Planchet; "Daddy Celestin is an old gendarme, who fought at Ivry.

He knows all about horses; so come into the house." And he led the way along a well-sheltered walk, which crossed a kitchen-garden, then a small paddock, and came out into a little garden behind the house, the principal front of which, as we have already noticed, faced the street.