s might be heard at a distance through all these
open doors. Then, while passing, he had cast a rapid, investigating
glance into the kitchen; and he was obliged to confess to himself, to
the shame of the procurator's wife and his own regret, that he did not
see that fire, that animation, that bustle, which when a good repast is
on foot prevails generally in that sanctuary of good living.

The procurator had without doubt been warned of his visit, as he
expressed no surprise at the sight of Porthos, who advanced toward him
with a sufficiently easy air, and saluted him courteously.

"We are cousins, it appears, Monsieur Porthos?" said the procurator,
rising, yet supporting his weight upon the arms of his cane chair.

The old man, wrapped in a large black doublet, in which the whole of
his slender body was concealed, was brisk and dry. His little gray eyes
shone like carbuncles, and appeared, with his grinning mouth, to be the
only part of his face in which life survived. Unfortunately the legs
began to refuse their service to this bony machine. During the last five
or six months that this weakness had been felt, the worthy procurator
had nearly become the slave of his wife.

The cousin was received with resignation, that was all. M. Coquenard,
firm upon his legs, would have declined all relationship with M.
Porthos.

"Yes, monsieur, we are cousins," said Porthos, without being
disconcerted, as he had never reckoned upon being received
enthusiastically by the husband.

"By the female side, I believe?" said the procurator, maliciously.

Porthos did not feel the ridicule of this, and took it for a piece of
simplicity, at which he laughed in his large mustache. Mme. Coquenard,
who knew that a simple-minded procurator was a very rare variety in the
species, smiled a little, and colored a great deal.

M. Coquenard had, since the arrival of Porthos, frequently cast his
eyes with great uneasiness upon a large chest placed in front of his
oak desk. Porthos comprehended that this chest, although it did not
correspond in shape with that which he had seen in his dreams, must be
the blessed coffer, and he congratulated himself that the reality was
several feet higher than the dream.

M. Coquenard did not carry his genealogical investigations any further;
but withdrawing his anxious look from the chest and fixing it upon
Porthos, he contented himself with saying, "Monsieur our cousin will
do us the favor of dining with us onc