The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [129]
“We simply asked him for money, Monsieur.”
“The devil you say! Now I understand everything. Don’t you realize that when Monsieur Porthos is out of funds, any reference to money is apt to anger him?”
“We thought so too, Monsieur. But you see, we run this house on strictly businesslike lines, Monsieur; we make our bills out day by day and present them to our guests every Saturday. Maybe we chose the wrong moment to approach Monsieur Porthos. At any rate he flew into a towering rage and committed us to all the devils of hell. To be sure he had been gambling the night before.”
“Gambling, eh? And with whom?”
“Good Lord, Monsieur, how can I tell? There was a gentleman in my inn, a very pretty gentleman indeed, but how should I know who he was? Anyhow, Monsieur, Porthos challenged him to a game of lansquenet.”
“And I suppose poor Porthos lost all his money!”
“Not only his money, Monsieur, but even his horse. You see, when the nobleman was about to leave, I spied his lackey saddling the horse Monsieur Porthos had ridden. My wife and I told the lackey he was wrong but he said: ‘Mind your own business, this horse belongs to us.’ Imagine, Monsieur.”
“Well, what happened next?”
The landlord proceeded to unfold his tale of woe. Having gone to inform Monsieur Porthos that his horse was being taken away, he was greeted with a volley of oaths for his pains. How dared a swine of a landlord doubt the word of a gentleman’s lackey? How dared he venture to doubt an honorable guest? If the stranger had said that the horse was his, his it was and he could take it wherever he pleased. (“How typical of Porthos!” D’Artagnan murmured.) The landlord went on to explain that he soon realized no money was forthcoming; he had therefore hoped that Monsieur Porthos would at least condescend to honor a rival inn, At the Sign of the Golden Eagle, with his patronage. But no, Monsieur Porthos replied that the Grand Saint-Martin was very comfortable and that he intended to remain there. This statement was too flattering for the host to dispute it; he therefore merely suggested that Monsieur Porthos vacate Room Number One, the handsomest in the hostelry, and move to a small but very comfortable room on the third floor. To this Monsieur Porthos replied that he was expecting his mistress to arrive at any moment and, since she was one of the greatest ladies at court, Monsieur Porthos intended to continue to occupy Room Number One because any other apartment would be unbefitting the lady and dishonoring to the hostelry of the Grand Saint-Martin, let alone to its landlord. While recognizing the truth and pith of the valid argument Monsieur Porthos advanced, mine host undertook to argue, whereupon Monsieur Porthos, brooking no discussion, seized a pistol which lay close at hand and delivered an ultimatum. He would, he swore, blow out the brains of anyone who rashly took it upon himself to meddle with affairs that concerned him, Monsieur Porthos, alone. Ever since, the landlord concluded, no one save the lackey, Mousqueton, dared enter Room Number One.
“So Mousqueton is here too?”
“Ay, Monsieur! five days after you left, the lackey returned, sullen and somewhat the worse for wear. It seems his journey did not agree with him. To tell you the truth, Monsieur, that lackey is considerably nimbler and spryer than his master. For the sake of Monsieur Porthos, he turns everything topsy-turvy; you see, Monsieur, God help us, he commandeers things right and left. Instead of waiting for us to refuse him something, he goes ahead and pinches it!”
“Ay, Mousqueton has always proved both enterprising and devoted to his master.”
“Yes, Monsieur, I dare say; but if I found such enterprise and devotion four times a year, I would go bankrupt.”
“Not at all; Porthos will pay you.”
The landlord cleared his throat and heaved a sigh of doubt.
“My dear host, Monsieur Porthos is protected by an illustrious lady who would not permit him to languish here for the mere pittance of a week’s rent.”
“Well, Monsieur, if Monsieur will suffer me to speak freely—”