ngth enough left to take a candlestick to light Planchet up
his own staircase. Planchet was pulling Porthos along, who was following
Truechen, who was herself jovial enough. It was D'Artagnan who found out
the rooms and the beds. Porthos threw himself into the one destined for
him, after his friend had undressed him. D'Artagnan got into his own
bed, saying to himself, "Mordioux! I had made up my mind never to touch
that light-colored wine, which brings my early camp days back again.
Fie! fie! if my musketeers were only to see their captain in such a
state." And drawing the curtains of his bed, he added, "Fortunately
enough, though, they will not see me."

"The country is very amusing," said Porthos, stretching out his legs,
which passed through the wooden footboard, and made a tremendous noise,
of which, however, no one in the house was capable of taking the
slightest notice. By two o'clock in the morning every one was fast
asleep.

CHAPTER XIII.

SHOWING WHAT COULD BE SEEN FROM PLANCHET'S HOUSE.

The next morning found the three heroes sleeping soundly. Truechen had
closed the outside blinds to keep the first rays of the sun from the
heavy eyes of her guests, like a kind good woman. It was still perfectly
dark then beneath Porthos' curtains and under Planchet's canopy, when
D'Artagnan, awakened by an indiscreet ray of light which made its way
through the windows, jumped hastily out of bed, as if he wished to be
the first at the assault. He took by assault Porthos' room, which was
next to his own. The worthy Porthos was sleeping with a noise like
distant thunder; in the dim obscurity of the room his gigantic frame was
prominently displayed, and his swollen fist hung down outside the bed
upon the carpet. D'Artagnan awoke Porthos, who rubbed his eyes in a
tolerably good humor. In the meantime Planchet was dressing himself, and
met at their bedroom doors his two guests, who were still somewhat
unsteady from their previous evening's entertainment. Although it was
yet very early, the whole household was already up. The cook was
mercilessly slaughtering poultry in the poultry-yard, and Celestin was
gathering cherries in the garden. Porthos, brisk and lively as ever,
held out his hand to Planchet, and D'Artagnan requested permission to
embrace Madame Truechen. The latter, to show that she bore no ill-will,
approached Porthos, upon whom she conferred the same favor. Porthos
embraced Madame Truechen, heaving an enorm