The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [128]
The Regiment of Guards was known to be recruited from among the noblest gentlemen of the realm and, flanked by a lackey and three extra horses—magnificent nags they were, too—D’Artagnan cut a considerable swath. His uniform might be simple and anonymous but his air and his retinue compelled a certain respect. The landlord therefore served him in person and D’Artagnan, observing this attention, ordered him to bring two glasses.
“By my faith, my dear host,” he paused a moment to fill both glasses, “By my faith, I ordered your best wine; if you have disappointed me, you shall suffer for it in the exact measure in which you have sinned. I hate to drink alone; you shall therefore join me; let us clink glasses and drink to each other’s health. Further, to drink a toast that can hurt nobody’s feelings, let us drink to the prosperity of your establishment.”
“Monsieur does me much honor and I thank you most sincerely for your kind wishes.”
“No, my dear host, make no mistake; there is probably more selfishness in my toast than you imagine. The only inns where guests are well received are the prosperous ones; other places, shabby and down at heels, make a gust the victim of his host’s embarrassments. God preserve me from them!” The landlord bowed. “I travel a great deal, you know, especially on this road, and I should like to see all innkeepers coining money!”
“Indeed yes, Monsieur, if I am not mistaken I have had the honor of seeing you before.”
“That is very likely: I have come through Chantilly at least ten times and stopped at your place at least four times or five. As a matter of fact I was last here some ten or twelve days ago, with some friends of mine, some musketeers.”
“Really, Monsieur!”
“Yes. One of them, a somewhat stout gentleman, had a slight argument with a man totally unknown to any of us, who picked some kind of a quarrel with him.”
“Why, yes, of course, Monsieur, I recall the incident. Monsieur is doubtless referring to Monsieur Porthos?”
“Exactly; he was traveling with us. Come, my dear host, tell me frankly: has anything untoward befallen Monsieur Porthos? He was a very cheerful traveling companion.”
“Monsieur must have observed that Monsieur Porthos was prevented from continuing his journey.”
“True: he promised to join us at Beauvais and we haven’t seen him since.”
“He did us the honor of remaining here, Monsieur.”
“What? He is still here?”
“Ay, Monsieur, under this very roof. Indeed, I must confess to Monsieur that we are somewhat worried—”
“Worried about what—?”
“About certain expenses, Monsieur. Begging your pardon, Monsieur Porthos is a lavish gentleman.”
“Well, if he has run up a bill, my dear landlord, he is certainly in a position to pay his score!”
“Monsieur’s words are a solace to my soul!” The host sighed. “You see we advanced considerable cash to Monsieur Porthos and this very morning the surgeon swore that if Monsieur didn’t pay him he would hold me responsible. Unfortunately it was I who sent for him!”
“Monsieur Porthos is wounded, then?”
“That I cannot tell!”
“What do you mean? Surely you of all people should know—?”
“Ay, Monsieur, men in my position cannot tell all they know. We must observe a landlordly discretion. And when the owner of an inn is told that his ears are answerable for what his tongue might say—”
“Tell me, may I see Monsieur Porthos?”
“Certainly, Monsieur; just take the stairs, walk up one flight and knock at the door of Number One. But be sure to say who you are.”
“Why so?”
“Well, Monsieur, something terrible might happen to you.”
“What, for instance?”
“Monsieur Porthos might easily mistake you for one of my staff. God help us, he might lose his temper and spit you like a fowl or blow your brains out.”
“What on earth