e king has a saying, 'that he who works
well, eats well,' and he does not like people to eat indifferently at
his table."

"How can I avoid having my mouth full if I eat?" said Porthos.

"All you have to do," replied the captain of the musketeers, "is simply
to swallow what you have in it, whenever the king does you the honor to
address a remark to you."

"Very good," said Porthos; and from that moment he began to eat with a
certain well-bred enthusiasm.

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 du Vallon!" he said.

Porthos was enjoying a _salmi de lievre_, and swallowed half of the
back. His name, pronounced in such a manner, 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 du Vallon," said the
king; "do you like brown meats, M. du Vallon?"

"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 plate.

"Well?" said the king.

"Exquisite," said Porthos, calmly.

"Have you as good mutton in your part of the country, Monsieur du
Vallon?" 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 whole."

"_Whole?_"

"Yes, sire."

"In what manner, Monsieur du Vallon?"

"In this, sire: my cook, who is a German, first stuffs the lamb in
question with small sausages he procures from Strasburg, force-meat
balls from Troyes, and larks 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 sausa