an hour than Porthos has discovered at Belle-Isle in two months. Only,
in order that I may know something, it is important that Porthos should
not make use of the only stratagem I leave at his disposal. He must not
warn Aramis of my arrival." All the care of the musketeer was then, for
the moment, confined to the watching of Porthos. And let us hasten to
say, Porthos did not deserve all this mistrust. Porthos thought of no
evil. Perhaps, on first seeing him, D'Artagnan had inspired him with a
little suspicion, but almost immediately D'Artagnan had reconquered in
that good and brave heart the place he had always occupied, and not the
least cloud darkened the large eye of Porthos, fixed from time to time
with tenderness on his friend.

On landing, Porthos inquired if his horses were waiting, and soon
perceived them at the crossing of the road that winds round Sarzeau, and
which, without passing through that little city, leads towards Vannes.
These horses were two in number, one for M. de Vallon, and one for his
equerry; for Porthos had an equerry since Mouston was only able to use
a carriage as a means of locomotion. D'Artagnan expected that Porthos
would propose to send forward his equerry upon one horse to bring
back another, and he--D'Artagnan--had made up his mind to oppose this
proposition. But nothing D'Artagnan had expected happened. Porthos
simply told the equerry to dismount and await his return at Sarzeau,
whilst D'Artagnan would ride his horse; which was arranged.

"Eh! but you are quite a man of precaution, my dear Porthos," said
D'Artagnan to his friend, when he found himself in the saddle, upon the
equerry's horse.

"Yes, but this is a kindness on the part of Aramis. I have not my stud
here, and Aramis has placed his stables at my disposal."

"Good horses for bishop's horses, mordioux!" said D'Artagnan. "It is
true, Aramis is a bishop of a peculiar kind."

"He is a holy man!" replied Porthos, in a tone almost nasal, and with
his eyes raised towards heaven.

"Then he is much changed," said D'Artagnan; "you and I have known him
passably profane."

"Grace has touched him," said Porthos.

"Bravo," said D'Artagnan, "that redoubles my desire to see my dear old
friend." And he spurred his horse, which sprang off into a more rapid
pace.

"Peste!" said Porthos, "if we go on at this rate, we shall only take one
hour instead of two."

"To go how far, do you say, Porthos?"

"Four leagues and a half."

"