"How is it all the better?"
"Yes, for his eminence will give you all that you wantland, money, and titles."
"Ah! ah! ah!" said Porthos, opening his eyes at that last word.
"Under the other cardinal," continued DArtagnan, "we didnt know enough to make our profits; this, however, doesnt concern you, with your forty thousand francs income, the happiest man in the world, it seems to me."
Porthos sighed.
"At the same time," continued DArtagnan, "notwithstanding your forty thousand francs a year, and perhaps even for the very reason that you have forty thousand francs a year, it seems to me that a little coronet would do well on your carriage, hey?"
"Yes indeed," said Porthos.
"Well, my dear friend, win itit is at the point of your sword. We shall not interfere with each otheryour object is a title; mine, money. If I can get enough to rebuild Artagnan, which my ancestors, impoverished by the Crusades, allowed to fall into ruins, and to buy thirty acres of land about it, that is all I wish. I shall retire and die tranquillyat home."
"For my part," said Porthos, "I desire to be made a baron."
"You shall be one."
"And have you not seen any of our other friends?"
"Yes, I have seen Aramis."
"And what does he wish? To be a bishop?"
"Aramis," answered DArtagnan, who did not wish to undeceive Porthos, "Aramis, fancy, has become a monk and a Jesuit, and lives like a bear. My offers did not arouse him,did not even tempt him."
"So much the worse! He was a clever man. And Athos?"
"I have not yet seen him. Do you know where I shall find him?"
"Near Blois. He is called Bragelonne. Only imagine, my dear friend. Athos, who was of as high birth as the emperor and who inherits one estate which gives him the title of comte, what is he to do with all those dignitiesthe Comte de la Fere, Comte de Bragelonne?"
"And he has no children with all these titles?"
"Ah!" said Porthos, "I have heard that he had adopted a young man who resembles him greatly."
"What, Athos? Our Athos, who was as virtuous as Scipio? Have you seen him?
"No."
"Well, I shall see him tomorrow and tell him about you; but Im afraid, entre nous, that his liking for wine has aged and degraded him."
"Yes, he used to drink a great deal," replied Porthos.
"And then he was older than any of us," added DArtagnan.
"Some years only. His gravity made him look older than he was."
"Well then, if we can get Athos, all will be well. If we cannot, we will do without him. We two are worth a dozen."
"Yes," said Porthos, smiling at the remembrance of his former exploits; "but we four, altogether, would be equal to thirtysix, more especially as you say the work will not be childs play. Will it last long?"
"Byr Lady! two or three years perhaps."
"So much the better," cried Porthos. "You have no idea, my friend, how my bones ache since I came here. Sometimes on a Sunday, I take a ride in the fields and on the property of my neighbours, in order to pick up a nice little quarrel, which I am really in want of, but nothing happens. Either they respect or they fear me, which is more likely, but they let me trample down the clover with my dogs, insult and obstruct every one, and I come back still more weary and lowspirited, thats all. At any rate, tell me: theres more chance of fighting in Paris, is there not?"
"In that respect, my dear friend, its delightful. No more edicts, no more of the cardinals guards, no more De Jussacs, nor other bloodhounds. IGad! underneath a lamp in an inn, anywhere, they ask Are you one of the Fronde? They unsheathe, and thats all that is said. The Duke de Guise killed Monsieur de Coligny in the Place Royale and nothing was said of it."
"Ah, things go on gaily, then," said Porthos.
"Besides which, in a short time," resumed DArtagnan, "We shall have set battles, cannonades, conflagrations and there will be great variety."
"Well, then, I decide."
"I have your word, then?"
"Yes, tis given. I shall fight heart and soul for Mazarin; but"
"But?"
"But he must make me a baron."
"Zounds!" said DArtagnan, "thats settled already; I will be responsible for the barony."
On this promise being given, Porthos, who had never doubted his friends assurance, turned back with him toward the castle.
12.
Porthos Was Discontented With His Condition.
As they returned toward the castle, DArtagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.
In the position of Porthos, DArtagnan would have been perfectly happy; and to make Porthos contented there was wantingwhat? five letters to put before his three names, a tiny coronet to paint upon the panels of his carriage!
"I shall pass all my life," thought DArtagnan, "in seeking for a man who is really contented with his lot."
Whilst making this reflection, chance seemed, as it were, to give him the lie direct. When Porthos had left him to give some orders he saw Mousqueton approaching. The face of the steward, despite one slight shade of care, light as a summer cloud, seemed a physiognomy of absolute felicity.
"Here is what I am looking for," thought DArtagnan; "but alas! the poor fellow does not know the purpose for which I am here."
He then made a sign for Mousqueton to come to him.
"Sir," said the servant, "I have a favour to ask you."
"Speak out, my friend."
"I am afraid to do so. Perhaps you will think, sir, that prosperity has spoiled me?"
"Art thou happy, friend?" asked DArtagnan.
"As happy as possible; and yet, sir, you may make me even happier than I am."
"Well, speak, if it depends on me."
"Oh, sir! it depends on you only."
"I listenI am waiting to hear."
"Sir, the favor I have to ask of you is, not to call me Mousqueton but Mouston. Since I have had the honor of being my lords steward I have taken the last name as more dignified and calculated to make my inferiors respect me. You, sir, know how necessary subordination is in any large establishment of servants."
DArtagnan smiled; Porthos wanted to lengthen out his names, Mousqueton to cut his short.
"Well, my dear Mouston," he said, "rest satisfied. I will call thee Mouston; and if it makes thee happy I will not tutoyer you any longer."
"Oh!" cried Mousqueton, reddening with joy; "if you do me, sir, such honor, I shall be grateful all my life; it is too much to ask."
"Alas!" thought DArtagnan, "it is very little to offset the unexpected tribulations I am bringing to this poor devil who has so warmly welcomed me."
"Will monsieur remain long with us?" asked Mousqueton, with a serene and glowing countenance.
"I go tomorrow, my friend," replied DArtagnan.
"Ah, monsieur," said Mousqueton, "then you have come here only to awaken our regrets."
"I fear that is true," said DArtagnan, in a low tone.
DArtagnan was secretly touched with remorse, not at inducing Porthos to enter into schemes in which his life and fortune would be in jeopardy, for Porthos, in the title of baron, had his object and reward; but poor Mousqueton, whose only wish was to be called Moustonwas it not cruel to snatch him from the delightful state of peace and plenty in which he was?
He was thinking of these matters when Porthos summoned him to dinner.
"What! to dinner?" said DArtagnan. "What time is it, then?"
"Eh! why, it is after one oclock."
"Your home is a paradise, Porthos; one takes no note of time. I follow you, though I am not hungry."
"Come, if one cant always eat, one can always drinka maxim of poor Athos, the truth of which I have discovered since I began to be lonely."
DArtagnan, who as a Gascon, was inclined to sobriety, seemed not so sure as his friend of the truth of Athoss maxim, but he did his best to keep up with his host. Meanwhile his misgivings in regard to Mousqueton recurred to his mind and with greater force because Mousqueton, though he did not himself wait on the table, which would have been beneath him in his new position, appeared at the door from time to time and evinced his gratitude to DArtagnan by the quality of the wine he directed to be served. Therefore, when, at dessert, upon a sign from DArtagnan, Porthos had sent away his servants and the two friends were alone:
"Porthos," said DArtagnan, "who will attend you in your campaigns?"
"Why," replied Porthos, "Mouston, of course."
This was a blow to DArtagnan. He could already see the intendants beaming smile change to a contortion of grief. "But," he said, "Mouston is not so young as he was, my dear fellow; besides, he has grown fat and perhaps has lost his fitness for active service."
"That may be true," replied Porthos; "but I am used to him, and besides, he wouldnt be willing to let me go without him, he loves me so much."
"Oh, blind selflove!" thought DArtagnan.
"And you," asked Porthos, "havent you still in your service your old lackey, that good, that brave, that intelligentwhat, then, is his name?"
"Planchetyes, I have found him again, but he is lackey no longer."
"What is he, then?"
"With his sixteen hundred francsyou remember, the sixteen hundred francs he earned at the siege of La Rochelle by carrying a letter to Lord de Winterhe has set up a little shop in the Rue des Lombards and is now a confectioner."
"Ah, he is a confectioner in the Rue des Lombards! How does it happen, then, that he is in your service?"
"He has been guilty of certain escapades and fears he may be disturbed." And the musketeer narrated to his friend Planchets adventure.
"Well," said Porthos, "if any one had told you in the old times that the day would come when Planchet would rescue Rochefort and that you would protect him in it"
"I should not have believed him; but men are changed by events."
"There is nothing truer than that," said Porthos; "but what does not change, or changes for the better, is wine. Taste of this; it is a Spanish wine which our friend Athos thought much of."
At that moment the steward came in to consult his master upon the proceedings of the next day and also with regard to the shooting party which had been proposed.
"Tell me, Mouston," said Porthos, "are my arms in good condition?"
"Your arms, my lordwhat arms?"
"Zounds! my weapons."
"What weapons?"
"My military weapons."
"Yes, my lord; at any rate, I think so."
"Make sure of it, and if they want it, have them burnished up. Which is my best cavalry horse?"