The next morning D’Artagnan summoned the host, one of those
sly Normans who say neither yes nor no and fear to commit
themselves by giving a direct answer. D’Artagnan, however,
gathered from his equivocal replies that the road to the
right was the one he ought to take, and on that uncertain
information he resumed his journey. At nine in the morning
he reached Nanteuil and stopped for breakfast. His host here
was a good fellow from Picardy, who gave him all the
information he needed. The Bracieux estate was a few leagues
from Villars-Cotterets.
D’Artagnan was acquainted with Villars-Cotterets having gone
thither with the court on several occasions; for at that
time Villars-Cotterets was a royal residence. He therefore
shaped his course toward that place and dismounted at the
Dauphin d’Or. There he ascertained that the Bracieux estate
was four leagues distant, but that Porthos was not at
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Bracieux. Porthos had, in fact, been involved in a dispute
with the Bishop of Noyon in regard to the Pierrefonds
property, which adjoined his own, and weary at length of a
legal controversy which was beyond his comprehension, he put
an end to it by purchasing Pierrefonds and added that name
to his others. He now called himself Du Vallon de Bracieux
de Pierrefonds, and resided on his new estate.
The travelers were therefore obliged to stay at the hotel
until the next day; the horses had done ten leagues that day
and needed rest. It is true they might have taken others,
but there was a great forest to pass through and Planchet,
as we have seen, had no liking for forests after dark.
There was another thing that Planchet had no liking for and
that was starting on a journey with a hungry stomach.
Accordingly, D’Artagnan, on awaking, found his breakfast
waiting for him. It need not be said that Planchet in
resuming his former functions resumed also his former
humility and was not ashamed to make his breakfast on what
was left by D’Artagnan.
It was nearly eight o’clock when they set out again. Their
course was clearly defined: they were to follow the road
toward Compiegne and on emerging from the forest turn to the
right.
The morning was beautiful, and in this early springtime the
birds sang on the trees and the sunbeams shone through the
misty glades, like curtains of golden gauze.
In other parts of the forest the light could scarcely
penetrate through the foliage, and the stems of two old oak
trees, the refuge of the squirrel, startled by the
travelers, were in deep shadow.
There came up from all nature in the dawn of day a perfume
of herbs, flowers and leaves, which delighted the heart.
D’Artagnan, sick of the closeness of Paris, thought that
when a man had three names of his different estates joined
one to another, he ought to be very happy in such a
paradise; then he shook his head, saying, “If I were Porthos
and D’Artagnan came to make me such a proposition as I am
going to make to him, I know what I should say to it.”
As to Planchet, he thought of little or nothing, but was
happy as a hunting-hound in his old master’s company.
At the extremity of the wood D’Artagnan perceived the road
that had been described to him, and at the end of the road
he saw the towers of an immense feudal castle.
“Oh! oh!” he said, “I fancied this castle belonged to the
ancient branch of Orleans. Can Porthos have negotiated for
it with the Duc de Longueville?”
“Faith!” exclaimed Planchet, “here’s land in good condition;
if it belongs to Monsieur Porthos I wish him joy.”
“Zounds!” cried D’Artagnan, “don’t call him Porthos, nor
even Vallon; call him De Bracieux or De Pierrefonds; thou
wilt knell out damnation to my mission otherwise.”
As he approached the castle which had first attracted his
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
eye, D’Artagnan was convinced that it could not be there
that his friend dwelt; the towers, though solid and as if
built yesterday, were open and broken. One might have
fancied that some giant had cleaved them with blows from a