, I will not be your accomplice; and to
prevent it, 'tis time I left this place. Adieu, Aramis," he added aloud,
"adieu; I am going to rejoin Porthos."

"Then wait for me," said Aramis, pocketing the patterns, "for I have
done, and shall not be sorry to say a parting word to our friend."

Lebrun packed up, Percerin put back the dresses into the closet, Aramis
put his hand on his pocket to assure himself the patterns were
secure--and they all left the study.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

WHERE, PROBABLY, MOLIERE FORMED HIS FIRST IDEA OF THE BOURGEOIS
GENTILHOMME.

D'Artagnan found Porthos in the adjoining chamber; but no longer an
irritated Porthos, or a disappointed Porthos, but Porthos radiant,
blooming, fascinating, and chatting with Moliere, who was looking upon
him with a species of idolatry, and as a man would who had not only
never seen anything better, but not even ever anything so good. Aramis
went straight up to Porthos and offered him his delicate white hand,
which lost itself in the gigantic hand of his old friend--an operation
which Aramis never hazarded without a certain uneasiness. But the
friendly pressure having been performed not too painfully for him, the
bishop of Vannes passed over to Moliere.

"Well, monsieur," said he, "will you come with me to Saint-Mande?"

"I will go anywhere you like, monseigneur," answered Moliere.

"To Saint-Mande!" cried Porthos, surprised at seeing the proud bishop of
Vannes fraternizing with a journeyman tailor. "What, Aramis, are you
going to take this gentleman to Saint-Mande?"

"Yes," said Aramis, smiling, "our work is pressing."

"And besides, my dear Porthos," continued D'Artagnan, "M. Moliere is not
altogether what he seems."

"In what way?" asked Porthos.

"Why, this gentleman is one of M. Percerin's chief clerks, and is
expected at Saint-Mande to try on the dresses which M. Fouquet has
ordered for the Epicureans."

"'Tis precisely so," said Moliere.

"Yes, monsieur."

"Come, then, my dear M. Moliere," said Aramis, "that is, if you have
done with M. de Valon?"

"We have finished," replied Porthos.

"And you are satisfied?" asked D'Artagnan.

"Completely so," replied Porthos.

Moliere took his leave of Porthos with much ceremony, and grasped the
hand which the captain of the musketeers furtively offered him.

"Pray, monsieur," concluded Porthos, mincingly, "above all, be exact."

"You will have your dress after to-morrow, Monsieur le Baron," ans