ered him a pailful of
the strawberries, and made him eat them out of her hands. D'Artagnan,
who arrived in the midst of these little innocent flirtations, scolded
Porthos for his indolence, and silently pitied Planchet. Porthos
breakfasted with a very good appetite, and when he had finished, he
said, looking at Truchen, "I could make myself very happy here."
Truchen smiled at his remark, and so did Planchet, but not without
embarrassment.

D'Artagnan then addressed Porthos: "You must not let the delights of
Capua make you forget the real object of our journey to Fontainebleau."

"My presentation to the king?"

"Certainly. I am going to take a turn in the town to get everything
ready for that. Do not think of leaving the house, I beg."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Porthos.

Planchet looked at D'Artagnan nervously.

"Will you be away long?" he inquired.

"No, my friend; and this very evening I will release you from two
troublesome guests."

"Oh! Monsieur d'Artagnan! can you say--"

"No, no; you are a noble-hearted fellow, but your house is very small.
Such a house, with half a dozen acres of land, would be fit for a king,
and make him very happy, too. But you were not born a great lord."

"No more was M. Porthos," murmured Planchet.

"But he has become so, my good fellow; his income has been a hundred
thousand francs a year for the last twenty years, and for the last fifty
years Porthos has been the owner of a couple of fists and a backbone,
which are not to be matched throughout the whole realm of France.
Porthos is a man of the very greatest consequence compared to you,
and... well, I need say no more, for I know you are an intelligent
fellow."

"No, no, monsieur, explain what you mean."

"Look at your orchard, how stripped it is, how empty your larder, your
bedstead broken, your cellar almost exhausted, look too... at Madame
Truchen--"

"Oh! my goodness gracious!" said Planchet.

"Madame Truchen is an excellent person," continued D'Artagnan, "but
keep her for yourself, do you understand?" and he slapped him on the
shoulder.

Planchet at this moment perceived Porthos and Truchen sitting close
together in an arbor; Truchen, with a grace of manner peculiarly
Flemish, was making a pair of earrings for Porthos out of a double
cherry, while Porthos was laughing as amorously as Samson in the company
of Delilah. Planchet pressed D'Artagnan's hand, and ran towards the
arbor. We must do Porthos the justice to say t