"Everything is arranged," he said: "I saw his majesty at the very moment he was setting off for the chase: the king expects us this evening."
"The king expects me!" cried Porthos, drawing himself up. It is a sad thing to have to confess, but a man's heart is like a restless billow; for, from that very moment, Porthos ceased to look at Madame Trüchen in that touching manner which had so softened her heart. Planchet encouraged these ambitious leanings in the best way he could. He talked over, or rather gave exaggerated accounts of all the splendors of the last reign, its battles, sieges and grand court ceremonies. He spoke of the luxurious display which the English made; the prizes which the three brave companions had won, and how D'Artagnan, who at the beginning had been the humblest of the three, had finished by becoming the head. He fired Porthos with a generous feeling of enthusiasm, by reminding him of his early youth now passed away; he boasted as much as he could of the moral life this great lord had led, and how religiously he respected the ties of friendship; he was eloquent and skillful in his choice of subjects. He delighted Porthos, frightened Trüchen, and made D'Artagnan think. At six o'clock, the musketeer ordered the horses to be brought round, and told Porthos to get ready. He thanked Planchet for his kind hospitality, whispered a few words about a post he might succeed in obtaining for him at court, which immediately raised Planchet in Trüchen's estimation, where the poor grocer—so good, so generous, so devoted—had become much lowered ever since the appearance and comparison with him of the two great gentlemen. Such, however, is woman's nature; they are anxious to possess what they have not got, and disdain it as soon as it is acquired. After having rendered this service to his friend Planchet, D'Artagnan said in a low tone of voice to Porthos: "That is a very beautiful ring you have on your finger."
"Its worth three hundred pistoles," said Porthos.
"Madame Trüchen will remember you better if you leave her that ring," replied D'Artagnan, a suggestion which Porthos seemed to hesitate to adopt.
"You think it is not beautiful enough perhaps," said the musketeer. "I understand your feelings; a great lord as you are would not think of accepting the hospitality of an old servant without paying him most handsomely for it; but I am sure that Planchet is too good-hearted a fellow to remember that you have an income of a hundred thousand francs a year."
"I have more than half a mind," said Porthos, flattered by the remark, "to make Madame Trüchen a present of my little farm at Bracieux: it has twelve acres."
"It is too much, my good Porthos, too much just at present. … Keep it for a future occasion." He then took the ring off Porthos' finger, and approaching Trüchen, said to her: "Madame, Monsieur le Baron hardly knows how to entreat you, out of your regard for him, to accept this little ring. M. de Valon is one of the most generous and discreet men of my acquaintance. He wished to offer you a farm that he has at Bracieux, but I dissuaded him from it."
"Oh!" said Trüchen, looking eagerly at the diamond.
"Monsieur le Baron!" exclaimed Planchet, quite overcome.
"My good friend," stammered out Porthos, delighted at having been so well represented by D'Artagnan. These several exclamations, uttered at the same moment, made quite a pathetic winding-up of a day which might have finished in a very ridiculous manner. But D'Artagnan was there, and, on every occasion, wherever D'Artagnan had exercised any control, matters had ended only just in the way he wished and desired. There were general embracings; Trüchen, whom the baron's munificence had restored to her proper position, very timidly, and blushing all the while, presented her forehead to the great lord with whom she had been on such very excellent terms the evening before. Planchet himself was overcome by a feeling of the deepest humility. Still, in the same generosity of disposition, Porthos would have emptied his pockets into the hands of the cook and of Celestin; but D'Artagnan stopped him.
"No," he said, "it is now my turn." And he gave one pistole to the woman and two to the man; and the benedictions which were showered down upon them would have rejoiced the heart of Harpagon himself, and have rendered, even him, prodigal of his money.
D'Artagnan made Planchet lead them to the chateau, and introduced Porthos into his own apartment, where he arrived safely without having been perceived by those he was afraid of meeting.
CHAPTER XV.
THE PRESENTATION OF PORTHOS AT COURT.
At seven o'clock the same evening, the king gave an audience to an ambassador from the United Provinces, in the grand reception-room. The audience lasted a quarter of an hour. His majesty afterward received those who had been recently presented, together with a few ladies, who paid their respects the first. In one quarter of the salon, concealed behind a column, Porthos and D'Artagnan were conversing together, waiting until their turn arrived.
"Have you heard the news?" inquired the musketeer of his friend.
"No!"
"Well, look, then." Porthos raised himself on tiptoe, and saw M. Fouquet in full court dress, leading Aramis toward the king.
"Aramis," said Porthos.
"Presented to the king by M. Fouquet."
"Ah!" ejaculated Porthos.
"For having fortified Belle-Isle," continued D'Artagnan.
"And I?"
"You—ah, you! as I have already had the honor of telling you, are the good-natured, kind-hearted Porthos; and so they begged you to take care of Saint-Mandé a little."
"Ah!" repeated Porthos.
"But, very happily, I was there," said D'Artagnan, "and presently it will be my turn."
At this moment Fouquet addressed the king. "Sire," he said, "I have a favor to solicit of your majesty. M. d'Herblay is not ambitious, but he knows he can be of some service. Your majesty needs a representative at Rome, who should be able to exercise a powerful influence there; may I request a cardinal's hat for M. d'Herblay?" The king started. "I do not often solicit anything of your majesty," said Fouquet.
"That is a reason, certainly," replied the king, who always expressed any hesitation he might have in that manner, and to which remark there was nothing to say in reply.
Fouquet and Aramis looked at each other. The king resumed: "M. d'Herblay can serve us equally well in France; an archbishopric, for instance."
"Sire," objected Fouquet, with a grace of manner peculiarly his own, "your majesty overwhelms M. d'Herblay; the archbishopric may, in your majesty's extreme kindness, be conferred in addition to the hat; the one does not exclude the other."
The king admired the readiness which he displayed, and smiled, saying: "D'Artagnan himself could not have answered better." He had no sooner pronounced the name, than D'Artagnan appeared.
"Did your majesty call me?" he said.
Aramis and Fouquet drew back a step, as if they were about to retire.
"Will your majesty allow me," said D'Artagnan quickly, as he led forward Porthos, "to present to your majesty M. le Baron de Valon, one of the bravest gentlemen of France."
As soon as Aramis saw Porthos, he turned as pale as death, while Fouquet clenched his hands under his ruffles. D'Artagnan smiled at both of them, while Porthos bowed, visibly overcome before the royal presence.
"Porthos here?" murmured Fouquet in Aramis' ear.
"Hush! there is some treachery at work," said the latter.
"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "it is more than six years ago