"Well, now that everything is decided," cried Porthos, rubbing his hands, "suppose we think of dinner! It seems to me that in the most critical positions of our lives we have always dined."
"Oh! yes, speak of dinner in a country where for a feast they eat boiled mutton, and as a treat drink beer. What the devil did you come to such a country for, Athos? But I forgot," added the Gascon, smiling, "pardon, I forgot you are no longer Athos; but never mind, let us hear your plan for dinner, Porthos."
"My plan!"
"Yes, have you a plan?"
"No! I am hungry, that is all."
"Pardieu, if that is all, I am hungry, too; but it is not everything to be hungry, one must find something to eat, unless we browse on the grass, like our horses ---- "
"Ah!" exclaimed Aramis, who was not quite so indifferent to the good things of the earth as Athos, "do you remember, when we were at Parpaillot, the beautiful oysters that we ate?"
"And the legs of mutton of the salt marshes," said Porthos, smacking his lips.
"But," suggested D'Artagnan, "have we not our friend Musqueton, who managed for us so well at Chantilly, Porthos?"
"Yes," said Porthos, "we have Musqueton, but since he has been steward, he has become very heavy; never mind, let us call him, and to make sure that he will reply agreeably ---- "Here! Mouston," cried Porthos.
Mouston appeared, with a most piteous face.
"What is the matter, my dear M. Mouston?" asked D'Artagnan.
"Are you ill?"
"Sir, I am very hungry," replied Mouston.
"Well, it is just for that reason that we have called you, my good M. Mouston. Could you not procure us a few of those nice little rabbits, and some of those delicious partridges, of which you used to make fricassees at the hotel ---- ?
'Faith, I do not remember the name of the hotel."
"At the hotel of ----," said Porthos; "by my faith -- nor do I remember it either."
"It does not matter; and a few of those bottles of old Burgundy wine, which cured your master so quickly of his sprain!"
"Alas! sir," said Musqueton, "I much fear that what you ask for are very rare things in this detestable and barren country, and I think we should do better to go and seek hospitality from the owner of a little house we see on the fringe of the forest."
"How! is there a house in the neighborhood?" asked D'Artagnan.
"Yes, sir," replied Musqueton.
"Well, let us, as you say, go and ask a dinner from the master of that house. What is your opinion, gentlemen, and does not M. Mouston's suggestion appear to you full of sense?"
"Oh!" said Aramis, "suppose the master is a Puritan?"
"So much the better, mordioux!" replied D'Artagnan; "if he is a Puritan we will inform him of the capture of the king, and in honor of the news he will kill for us his fatted hens."
"But if he should be a cavalier?" said Porthos.
"In that case we will put on an air of mourning and he will pluck for us his black fowls."
"You are very happy," exclaimed Athos, laughing, in spite of himself, at the sally of the irresistible Gascon; "for you see the bright side of everything."
"What would you have?" said D'Artagnan. "I come from a land where there is not a cloud in the sky."
"It is not like this, then," said Porthos stretching out his hand to assure himself whether a chill sensation he felt on his cheek was not really caused by a drop of rain.
"Come, come," said D'Artagnan, "more reason why we should start on our journey. Halloo, Grimaud!"
Grimaud appeared.
"Well, Grimaud, my friend, have you seen anything?" asked the Gascon.
"Nothing!" replied Grimaud.
"Those idiots!" cried Porthos, "they have not even pursued us. Oh! if we had been in their place!"
"Yes, they are wrong," said D'Artagnan. "I would willingly have said two words to Mordaunt in this little desert. It is an excellent spot for bringing down a man in proper style."
"I think, decidedly," observed Aramis, "gentlemen, that the son hasn't his mother's energy."
"What, my good fellow!" replied Athos, "wait awhile; we have scarcely left him two hours ago -- he does not know yet in what direction we came nor where we are. We may say that he is not equal to his mother when we put foot in France, if we are not poisoned or killed before then."
"Meanwhile, let us dine," suggested Porthos.
"I'faith, yes," said Athos, "for I am hungry."
"Look out for the black fowls!" cried Aramis.
And the four friends, guided by Musqueton, took up the way toward the house, already almost restored to their former gayety; for they were now, as Athos had said, all four once more united and of single mind.