The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [184]
“Exactly, Monsieur. You may well believe that we cannot accept such freaks in exchange for the thoroughbreds we were promised.”
“Lord! I should think not! Still, I should like to have seen Porthos on my yellow horse; it would have given me an idea of what I must have looked like when I arrived in Paris!” D’Artagnan laughed. “But don’t let us detain you, Mousqueton, go do your master’s bidding. Is he at home?”
“Ay, Monsieur,” Mousqueton replied, “but in a very bad humor. Giddy-up, there, get on, get on. . . .”
The wretched valet pursued his way toward the Quai des Grands-Augustins while the two friends went to ring at the bell of the unfortunate Porthos. But their friend, having seen them crossing the yard, took good care not to answer, and they rang in vain.
Meanwhile Mousqueton plodded on, arousing popular curiosity at every step, crossed the Pont Neuf, the two sorry beasts in the van, and reached the Rue aux Ours. Arrived there, following his master’s orders, he tied both horse and mule to the knocker of the attorney’s door. Then, without worrying about their future, he returned to Porthos to announce that his mission was completed.
In a little while, the two luckless beasts, who had eaten nothing since early morning, created such an uproar by raising the knocker and letting it fall again that the attorney ordered his errand-boy to inquire in the neighborhood to whom this horse and mule belonged.
Madame Coquenard, who of course recognized her gift, could not at first understand the reason for this restitution; but a visit from Porthos speedily enlightened her. The anger that blazed in the musketeer’s eyes despite his efforts at self-control terrified his sensitive inamorata. In fact Mousqueton had not concealed from his master that he had met D’Artagnan and Aramis and that in the yellow horse D’Artagnan had recognized the Béarn pony which had brought him to Paris and which he had sold for three crowns.
Porthos left after making an appointment to meet the attorney’s wife in the cloister of Saint-Magloire. Seeing Porthos leave the house, the attorney invited him to dinner, an invitation which the musketeer refused with a majestic air.
Madame Coquenard sped trembling toward Saint-Magloire, for she guessed what reproaches awaited her there, but she was also fascinated by her suitor’s lordly airs.
All the imprecations and reproaches that a man wounded in his pride and vanity can possibly heap upon a woman’s head, Porthos let fall in profusion on the bowed head of Madame Coquenard.
“Alas!” she apologized. “I did it all for the best! One of our clients is a horse-dealer . . . he owes money to the office . . . he is far behind in his payments . . . we cannot collect anything from him . . . so I took this mule and this horse for what he owed us . . . he swore to me they were fine, thoroughbred steeds. . . .”
“Madame,” Porthos said with icy dignity, “if he owed you more than five crowns, your horse-dealer is a thief.”
“There is no harm in trying to buy things cheap, Monsieur Porthos,” the lady countered, trying to excuse herself.
“No, Madame. But people who are always on the look-out for bargains should permit others to seek more generous friends.”
And Porthos, turning on one heel, took one step away from her.
“Monsieur Porthos! Monsieur Porthos!” she cried. “I was wrong, I see it now, I shouldn’t have driven a bargain when it came to equiping a cavalier like yourself!”
Without deigning to reply, Porthos took a second step. In her imagination, Madame Attorney saw him in the center of a dazzling cloud, wholly surrounded by duchesses and marchionesses, all of whom cast bags of money at his feet.
“Stop in the name of Heaven, Monsieur Porthos!” she implored. “Stop and let us talk.”
“Talking with you brings me misfortune!”
“But tell me, what do you ask of me?”
“Nothing—for that amounts to the same as if I asked you for something.”
Madame Coquenard hung on to the musketeer’s arm and, in an agony of grief, pleaded:
“Monsieur Porthos, I am ignorant of all such matters. How should I know what a horse is? How do I know