the times of Francis I, the hilt of which alone, encrusted with precious
stones, might be worth two hundred pistoles, and which, nevertheless, in
his moments of greatest distress Athos had never pledged or offered for
sale. It had long been an object of ambition for Porthos. Porthos would
have given ten years of his life to possess this sword.

One day, when he had an appointment with a duchess, he endeavored even
to borrow it of Athos. Athos, without saying anything, emptied his
pockets, got together all his jewels, purses, aiguillettes, and gold
chains, and offered them all to Porthos; but as to the sword, he said it
was sealed to its place and should never quit it until its master
should himself quit his lodgings. In addition to the sword, there was a
portrait representing a nobleman of the time of Henry III, dressed with
the greatest elegance, and who wore the Order of the Holy Ghost; and
this portrait had certain resemblances of lines with Athos, certain
family likenesses which indicated that this great noble, a knight of the
Order of the King, was his ancestor.

Besides these, a casket of magnificent goldwork, with the same arms as
the sword and the portrait, formed a middle ornament to the mantelpiece,
and assorted badly with the rest of the furniture. Athos always carried
the key of this coffer about him; but he one day opened it before
Porthos, and Porthos was convinced that this coffer contained nothing
but letters and papers--love letters and family papers, no doubt.

Porthos lived in an apartment, large in size and of very sumptuous
appearance, in the Rue du Vieux-Colombier. Every time he passed with
a friend before his windows, at one of which Mousqueton was sure to be
placed in full livery, Porthos raised his head and his hand, and said,
"That is my abode!" But he was never to be found at home; he never
invited anybody to go up with him, and no one could form an idea of what
his sumptuous apartment contained in the shape of real riches.

As to Aramis, he dwelt in a little lodging composed of a boudoir, an
eating room, and a bedroom, which room, situated, as the others were, on
the ground floor, looked out upon a little fresh green garden, shady and
impenetrable to the eyes of his neighbors.

With regard to d'Artagnan, we know how he was lodged, and we have
already made acquaintance with his lackey, Master Planchet.

D'Artagnan, who was by nature very curious--as people generally are who
possess the ge