" said Porthos: and from that moment he began to eat with a
well-bred enthusiasm of manner.

The king occasionally looked at the different persons who were at table
with him, and _en connoisseur_, could appreciate the different
dispositions of his guests.

"Monsieur de Valon!" he said.

Porthos was enjoying a _salmi de lievre,_ and swallowed half of the
back. His name pronounced in such a manner had made him start, and by a
vigorous effort of his gullet he absorbed the whole mouthful.

"Sire," replied Porthos, in a stifled voice, but sufficiently
intelligible, nevertheless.

"Let those _filets d'agneau_ be handed to Monsieur de Valon," said the
king. "Do you like brown meats, M. de Valon?"

"Sire, I like everything," replied Porthos.

D'Artagnan whispered, "Everything your majesty sends me."

Porthos repeated, "Everything your majesty sends me," an observation
which the king apparently received with great satisfaction.

"People eat well who work well," replied the king, delighted to have _en
tete-a-tete_ a guest who could eat as Porthos did. Porthos received the
dish of lamb, and put a portion of it on his own plate.

"Well?" said the king.

"Exquisite," said Porthos, calmly.

"Have you as good mutton in your part of the country, Monsieur de
Valon?" continued the king.

"Sire, I believe that from my own province, as everywhere else, the best
of everything is sent to Paris for your majesty's use; but, on the
other hand, I do not eat lamb in the same way your majesty does."

"Ah, ah! and how do you eat it?"

"Generally, I have a lamb dressed quite whole."

"Quite whole?"

"Yes, sire."

"In what manner, then?"

"In this, sire: My cook, who is a German, first stuffs the lamb in
question with small sausages which he procures from Strasburg,
force-meat balls which he procures from Troyes, and larks which he
procures from Pithiviers: by some means or other, which I am not
acquainted with, he bones the lamb as he would do a fowl, leaving-the
skin on, however, which forms a brown crust all over the animal; when it
is cut in beautiful slices, in the same way as an enormous sausage, a
rose-colored gravy pours forth, which is as agreeable to the eye as it
is exquisite to the palate." And Porthos finished by smacking his lips.

The king-opened his eyes with delight, and, while cutting some of the
_faisan en daube_, which was being handed to him, he said:

"That is a dish I should very much like to taste, M