ut the king's forest, which is
very beautiful."

"Yes, I know the forest is very fine," said Porthos; "nearly as
beautiful as my forest at Berry."

Planchet opened his eyes very wide. "Have you a forest of the same kind
as the forest at Fontainebleau, monsieur le baron?" he stammered out.

"Yes; I have two, indeed, but the one at Berry is my favorite."

"Why so?" asked Planchet.

"Because I don't know where it ends; and, also, because it is full of
poachers."

"How can the poachers make the forest so agreeable to you?"

"Because they hunt my game, and I hunt them--which, in these peaceful
times, is for me a sufficiently pleasing picture of war on a small
scale."

They had reached this turn of conversation, when Planchet, looking up,
perceived the houses at the commencement of Fontainebleau, the lofty
outlines of which stood out strongly against the misty visage of the
heavens; whilst, rising above the compact and irregularly formed mass
of buildings, the pointed roofs of the chateau were clearly visible, the
slates of which glistened beneath the light of the moon, like the scales
of an immense fish. "Gentlemen," said Planchet, "I have the honor to
inform you that we have arrived at Fontainebleau."

Chapter V. Planchet's Country-House.

The cavaliers looked up, and saw that what Planchet had announced to
them was true. Ten minutes afterwards they were in the street called the
Rue de Lyon, on the opposite side of the hostelry of the Beau Paon.
A high hedge of bushy elders, hawthorn, and wild hops formed an
impenetrable fence, behind which rose a white house, with a high tiled
roof. Two of the windows, which were quite dark, looked upon the street.
Between the two, a small door, with a porch supported by a couple of
pillars, formed the entrance to the house. The door was gained by a step
raised a little from the ground. Planchet got off his horse, as if he
intended to knock at the door; but, on second thoughts, he took hold of
his horse by the bridle, and led it about thirty paces further on, his
two companions following him. He then advanced about another thirty
paces, until he arrived at the door of a cart-house, lighted by an
iron grating; and, lifting up a wooden latch, pushed open one of the
folding-doors. He entered first, leading his horse after him by the
bridle, into a small courtyard, where an odor met them which revealed
their close vicinity to a stable. "That smells all right," said Porthos,
lo