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- Александр Дюма
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- Стр. 154/849
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"
You
are
Monsieur
d'Artagnan
.
"
"
You
see
,
monsieur
,
that
you
say
it
again
.
"
"
But
I
tell
you
,
Monsieur
Commissary
,
"
cried
Bonacieux
,
in
his
turn
,
"
there
is
not
the
least
doubt
about
the
matter
.
Monsieur
d'Artagnan
is
my
tenant
,
although
he
does
not
pay
me
my
rent
--
and
even
better
on
that
account
ought
I
to
know
him
.
Monsieur
d'Artagnan
is
a
young
man
,
scarcely
nineteen
or
twenty
,
and
this
gentleman
must
be
thirty
at
least
.
Monsieur
d'Artagnan
is
in
Monsieur
Dessessart
's
Guards
,
and
this
gentleman
is
in
the
company
of
Monsieur
de
Treville
's
Musketeers
.
Look
at
his
uniform
,
Monsieur
Commissary
,
look
at
his
uniform
!
"
"
That
's
true
,
"
murmured
the
commissary
;
"
PARDIEU
,
that
's
true
.
"
At
this
moment
the
door
was
opened
quickly
,
and
a
messenger
,
introduced
by
one
of
the
gatekeepers
of
the
Bastille
,
gave
a
letter
to
the
commissary
.
"
Oh
,
unhappy
woman
!
"
cried
the
commissary
.
"
How
?
What
do
you
say
?
Of
whom
do
you
speak
?
It
is
not
of
my
wife
,
I
hope
!
"
"
On
the
contrary
,
it
is
of
her
.
Yours
is
a
pretty
business
.
"
"
But
,
"
said
the
agitated
mercer
,
"
do
me
the
pleasure
,
monsieur
,
to
tell
me
how
my
own
proper
affair
can
become
worse
by
anything
my
wife
does
while
I
am
in
prison
?
"
"
Because
that
which
she
does
is
part
of
a
plan
concerted
between
you
--
of
an
infernal
plan
.
"