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Updated: May 27, 2025
His carriage was waiting at the door. The second traveler got into his saddle, in the courtyard, with his lackey. D'Artagnan followed Jupenet to the door; he embarked his cart and horse on board the boat. As to the opulent traveler, he did the same with his two horses and servant. But all the wit D'Artagnan employed in endeavoring to find out his name was lost he could learn nothing.
Then, turning towards the stranger, with a character of blunt bonhomie: "But tell me at least the name of your works, monsieur; for you will please to observe you have not told me your name, and I have been forced to divine your genius." "My name is Jupenet, monsieur," said the author.
Then, turning towards the stranger, with a character of blunt bonhomie: "But tell me at least the name of your works, monsieur; for you will please to observe you have not told me your name, and I have been forced to divine your genius." "My name is Jupenet, monsieur," said the author.
"Your press was groaning all night, monsieur," said Porthos, "and you prevented my sleeping, corne de boeuf!" "Monsieur " objected Jupenet, timidly. "You have nothing yet to print: therefore you have no occasion to set your press going. What did you print last night?" "Monsieur, a light poem of my own composition." "Light! no, no, monsieur; the press groaned pitifully beneath it.
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