Chapter 12 - In Which It Is Shown That If Porthos Was Discontented With His Condition, Musqueton Was
As they returned toward the castle, D'Artagnan thought ofthe miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied withwhat it has, ever desirous of what it has not.
In the position of Porthos, D'Artagnan would have beenperfectly happy; and to make Porthos contented there waswanting - what? 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 D'Artagnan, "in seekingfor a man who is really contented with his lot."
Whilst making this reflection, chance seemed, as it were, togive him the lie direct. When Porthos had left him to givesome orders he saw Musqueton approaching. The face of thesteward, despite one slight shade of care, light as a summercloud, seemed a physiognomy of absolute felicity.
"Here is what I am looking for," thought D'Artagnan; "butalas! the poor fellow does not know the purpose for which Iam here."
He then made a sign for Musqueton 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, thatprosperity has spoiled me?"
"Art thou happy, friend?" asked D'Artagnan.
"As happy as possible; and yet, sir, you may make me evenhappier than I am."
"Well, speak, if it depends on me."
"Oh, sir! it depends on you only."
"I listen - I am waiting to hear."
"Sir, the favor I have to ask of you is, not to call me`Musqueton' but `Mouston.' Since I have had the honor ofbeing my lord's steward I have taken the last name as moredignified and calculated to make my inferiors respect me.You, sir, know how necessary subordination is in any largeestablishment of servants."
D'Artagnan smiled; Porthos wanted to lengthen out his names,Musqueton to cut his short.
"Well, my dear Mouston," he said, "rest satisfied. I willcall thee Mouston; and if it makes thee happy I will not`tutoyer' you any longer."
"Oh!" cried Musqueton, reddening with joy; "if you do me,sir, such honor, I shall be grateful all my life; it is toomuch to ask."
"Alas!" thought D'Artagnan, "it is very little to offset theunexpected tribulations I am bringing to this poor devil whohas so warmly welcomed me."
"Will monsieur remain long with us?" asked Musqueton, with aserene and glowing countenance.
"I go to-morrow, my friend," replied D'Artagnan.
"Ah, monsieur," said Musqueton, "then you have come hereonly to awaken our regrets."
"I fear that is true," said D'Artagnan, in a low tone.
D'Artagnan was secretly touched with remorse, not atinducing Porthos to enter into schemes in which his life andfortune would be in jeopardy, for Porthos, in the title ofbaron, had his object and reward; but poor Musqueton, whoseonly wish was to be called Mouston - was it not cruel tosnatch him from the delightful state of peace and plenty inwhich he was?
He was thinking of these matters when Porthos summoned himto dinner.
"What! to dinner?" said D'Artagnan. "What time is it, then?"
"Eh! why, it is after one o'clock."
"Your home is a paradise, Porthos; one takes no note oftime. I follow you, though I am not hungry."
"Come, if one can't always eat, one can always drink - amaxim of poor Athos, the truth of which I have discoveredsince I began to be lonely."
D'Artagnan, who as a Gascon, was inclined to sobriety,seemed not so sure as his friend of the truth of Athos'smaxim, but he did his best to keep up with his host.Meanwhile his misgivings in regard to Musqueton recurred tohis mind and with greater force because Musqueton, though hedid not himself wait on the table, which would have beenbeneath him in his new position, appeared at the door fromtime to time and evinced his gratitude to D'Artagnan by thequality of the wine he directed to be served. Therefore,when, at dessert, upon a sign from D'Artagnan, Porthos hadsent away his servants and the two friends were alone:
"Porthos," said D'Artagnan, "who will attend you in yourcampaigns?"
"Why," replied Porthos, "Mouston, of course."
This was a blow to D'Artagnan. He could already see theintendant's beaming smile change to a contortion of grief."But," he said, "Mouston is not so young as he was, my dearfellow; besides, he has grown fat and perhaps has lost hisfitness for active service."
"That may be true," replied Porthos; "but I am used to him,and besides, he wouldn't be willing to let me go withouthim, he loves me so much."
"Oh, blind self-love!" thought D'Artagnan.
"And you," asked Porthos, "haven't you still in your serviceyour old lackey, that good, that brave, that intelligent- -what, then, is his name?"
"Planchet - yes, I have found him again, but he is lackeyno longer."
"What is he, then?"
"With his sixteen hundred francs - you remember, thesixteen hundred francs he earned at the siege of La Rochelleby carrying a letter to Lord de Winter - he has set up alittle shop in the Rue des Lombards and is now aconfectioner."
"Ah, he is a confectioner in the Rue des Lombards! How doesit happen, then, that he is in your service?"
"He has been guilty of certain escapades and fears he may bedisturbed." And the musketeer narrated to his friendPlanchet's adventure.
"Well," said Porthos, "if any one had told you in the oldtimes that the day would come when Planchet would rescueRochefort and that you would protect him in it - - "
"I should not have believed him; but men are changed byevents."
"There is nothing truer than that," said Porthos; "but whatdoes not change, or changes for the better, is wine. Tasteof this; it is a Spanish wine which our friend Athos thoughtmuch of."
At that moment the steward came in to consult his masterupon the proceedings of the next day and also with regard tothe shooting party which had been proposed.
"Tell me, Mouston," said Porthos, "are my arms in goodcondition?"
"Your arms, my lord - what 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 burnishedup. Which is my best cavalry horse?"
"Vulcan."
"And the best hack?"
"Bayard."
"What horse dost thou choose for thyself?"
"I like Rustaud, my lord; a good animal, whose paces suitme."
"Strong, think's" thou?"
"Half Norman, half Mecklenburger; will go night and day."
"That will do for us. See to these horses. Polish up or makesome one else polish my arms. Then take pistols with theeand a hunting-knife."
"Are we then going to travel, my lord?" asked Musqueton,rather uneasy.
"Something better still, Mouston."
"An expedition, sir?" asked the steward, whose roses beganto change into lilies.
"We are going to return to the service, Mouston," repliedPorthos, still trying to restore his mustache to themilitary curl it had long lost.
"Into the service - the king's service?" Musquetontrembled; even his fat, smooth cheeks shook as he spoke, andhe looked at D'Artagnan with an air of reproach; hestaggered, and his voice was almost choked.
"Yes and no. We shall serve in a campaign, seek out allsorts of adventures - return, in short, to our formerlife."
These last words fell on Musqueton like a thunderbolt. Itwas those very terrible old days that made the present soexcessively delightful, and the blow was so great he rushedout, overcome, and forgot to shut the door.
The two friends remained alone to speak of the future and tobuild castles in the air. The good wine which Musqueton hadplaced before them traced out in glowing drops to D'Artagnana fine perspective, shining with quadruples and pistoles,and showed to Porthos a blue ribbon and a ducal mantle; theywere, in fact, asleep on the table when the servants came tolight them to their bed.
Musqueton was, however, somewhat consoled by D'Artagnan, whothe next day told him that in all probability war wouldalways be carried on in the heart of Paris and within reachof the Chateau du Vallon, which was near Corbeil, orBracieux, which was near Melun, and of Pierrefonds, whichwas between Compiegne and Villars-Cotterets.
"But - formerly - it appears," began Musqueton timidly.
"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, "we don't now make war as we didformerly. To-day it's a sort of diplomatic arrangement; askPlanchet."
Musqueton inquired, therefore, the state of the case of hisold friend, who confirmed the statement of D'Artagnan."But," he added, "in this war prisoners stand a chance ofbeing hung."
"The deuce they do!" said Musqueton; "I think I should likethe siege of Rochelle better than this war, then!"
Porthos, meantime, asked D'Artagnan to give him hisinstructions how to proceed on his journey.
"Four days," replied his friend, "are necessary to reachBlois; one day to rest there; three or four days to returnto Paris. Set out, therefore, in a week, with your suite,and go to the Hotel de la Chevrette, Rue Tiquetonne, andthere await me."
"That's agreed," said Porthos.
"As to myself, I shall go around to see Athos; for though Idon't think his aid worth much, one must with one's friendsobserve all due politeness," said D'Artagnan.
The friends then took leave of each other on the very borderof the estate of Pierrefonds, to which Porthos escorted hisfriend.
"At least," D'Artagnan said to himself, as he took the roadto Villars-Cotterets, "at least I shall not be alone in myundertaking. That devil, Porthos, is a man of prodigiousstrength; still, if Athos joins us, well, we shall be threeof us to laugh at Aramis, that little coxcomb with his toogood luck."
At Villars-Cotterets he wrote to the cardinal:
"My Lord, - I have already one man to offer to youreminence, and he is well worth twenty men. I am just settingout for Blois. The Comte de la Fere inhabits the Castle ofBragelonne, in the environs of that city."