without naming our friends; to name them would be to commit
them to ruin, so I merely said they were fifty and we were
two.
“`There was firing, nevertheless, I heard,’ he said; `and
your swords — they saw the light of day, I presume?’
“`That is, the night, my lord,’ I answered.
“`Ah!’ cried the cardinal, `I thought you were a Gascon, my
friend?’
“`I am a Gascon,’ said I, `only when I succeed.’ The answer
pleased him and he laughed.
“`That will teach me,’ he said, `to have my guards provided
with better horses; for if they had been able to keep up
with you and if each one of them had done as much as you and
your friend, you would have kept your word and would have
brought him back to me dead or alive.'”
“Well, there’s nothing bad in that, it seems to me,” said
Porthos.
“Oh, mon Dieu! no, nothing at all. It was the way in which
he spoke. It is incredible how these biscuit soak up wine!
They are veritable sponges! Gimblou, another bottle.”
The bottle was brought with a promptness which showed the
degree of consideration D’Artagnan enjoyed in the
establishment. He continued:
“So I was going away, but he called me back.
“`You have had three horses foundered or killed?’ he asked
me.
“`Yes, my lord.’
“`How much were they worth?'”
“Why,” said Porthos, “that was very good of him, it seems to
me.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“`A thousand pistoles,’ I said.”
“A thousand pistoles!” Porthos exclaimed. “Oh! oh! that is a
large sum. If he knew anything about horses he would dispute
the price.”
“Faith! he was very much inclined to do so, the contemptible
fellow. He made a great start and looked at me. I also
looked at him; then he understood, and putting his hand into
a drawer, he took from it a quantity of notes on a bank in
Lyons.”
“For a thousand pistoles?”
“For a thousand pistoles — just that amount, the beggar;
not one too many.”
“And you have them?”
“They are here.”
“Upon my word, I think he acted very generously.”
“Generously! to men who had risked their lives for him, and
besides had done him a great service?”
“A great service — what was that?”
“Why, it seems that I crushed for him a parliament
councillor.”
“What! that little man in black that you upset at the corner
of Saint Jean Cemetery?”
“That’s the man, my dear fellow; he was an annoyance to the
cardinal. Unfortunately, I didn’t crush him flat. It seems
that he came to himself and that he will continue to be an
annoyance.”
“See that, now!” said Porthos; “and I turned my horse aside
from going plump on to him! That will be for another time.”
“He owed me for the councillor, the pettifogger!”
“But,” said Porthos, “if he was not crushed completely —-
”
“Ah! Monsieur de Richelieu would have said, `Five hundred
crowns for the councillor.’ Well, let’s say no more about
it. How much were your animals worth, Porthos?”
“Ah, if poor Mousqueton were here he could tell you to a
fraction.”
“No matter; you can tell within ten crowns.”
“Why, Vulcan and Bayard cost me each about two hundred
pistoles, and putting Phoebus at a hundred and fifty, we
should be pretty near the amount.”
“There will remain, then, four hundred and fifty pistoles,”
said D’Artagnan, contentedly.
“Yes,” said Porthos, “but there are the equipments.”
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“That is very true. Well, how much for the equipments?”
“If we say one hundred pistoles for the three —- ”
“Good for the hundred pistoles; there remains, then, three
hundred and fifty.”
Porthos made a sign of assent.
“We will give the fifty pistoles to the hostess for our
expenses,” said D’Artagnan, “and share the three hundred.”
“We will share,” said Porthos.
“A paltry piece of business!” murmured D’Artagnan crumpling
his note.
“Pooh!” said Porthos, “it is always that. But tell me —- ”
“What?”
“Didn’t he speak of me in any way?”
“Ah! yes, indeed!” cried D’Artagnan, who was afraid of
disheartening his friend by telling him that the cardinal