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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Come, D'Artagnan," said Porthos, "bid adieu to your sword and go with me to Pierrefonds, to Bracieux, or to Du Vallon. We will grow old together and talk of our companions." "No!" replied D'Artagnan, "deuce take it, the campaign is going to begin; I wish to be there, I expect to get something by it." "What do you expect to get?" "Why, I expect to be made Marechal of France!"
And he clapped spurs to his horse, who, having found nothing melancholy in the heavy oats of Pierrefonds, profited by this permission to show his gayety in a gallop which absorbed two leagues. "To Paris!" said D'Artagnan to himself. And on the morrow he alighted in Paris. He had devoted ten days to this journey.
"Nothing could happen more fortunately, my young friend," replied Porthos; "I have eight thousand livres sent me this morning from Pierrefonds; and if you want any money " "No, I thank you; it is not money." "So much the worse, then. I have always heard it said that that is the rarest service, but the easiest to render. The remark struck me; I like to cite remarks that strike me."
"Without doubt," continued D'Artagnan, unwilling to give his friend time to recollect himself, "I have been to see you at Pierrefonds." "Indeed!" "Yes." "And you did not find me there?" "No, but I found Mouston." "Is he well?" "Peste!" "Well, but Mouston did not tell you I was here." "Why should he not? Have I, perchance, deserved to lose his confidence?" "No; but he did not know it."
"As Pierrefonds belongs to me?" "I told you I believed so; there are no two words to that." "Did you ever see a man there who is accustomed to walk about with a ruler in his hand?" "No; but I might have seen him there, if he really walked there." "Well, that gentleman is M. Boulingrin." "Who is M. Boulingrin?" "Now we are coming to it.
"It's only a bandbox of a thing compared with Coucy or Pierrefonds or any of the northern ones. It was built, you know, like the Cathedral at Bayonne, when the Plantagenets still held that country, but after they were practically pretty near English, and both the château and the Gothic cathedral seem queer aliens among the southern natives.
Every one turned his eyes towards Mousqueton, who was still lost in grief. In twenty horses for saddle and draught, which I have particularly at my chateau of Pierrefonds, and which are called Bayard, Roland, Charlemagne, Pepin, Dunois, La Hire, Ogier, Samson, Milo, Nimrod, Urganda, Armida, Flastrade, Dalilah, Rebecca, Yolande, Finette, Grisette, Lisette, and Musette.
"My dear M. Percerin," he continued, "I bring you a customer." "Ah! ah!" exclaimed Percerin, crossly. "M. le Baron du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds," continued D'Artagnan. Percerin attempted a bow, which found no favor in the eyes of the terrible Porthos, who, from his first entry into the room, had been regarding the tailor askance. "A very good friend of mine," concluded D'Artagnan.
Then, all of us wheeling round as one man, we saw the most blessed sight, whereto our backs had been turned; for, into the Chapel Gate that is, far to the left of the Pierrefonds Gate on the north-east were streaming cattle, sheep and kine, pricked on and hastened by a company of a hundred men-at-arms.
The order was immediately obeyed. Then, continuing the conversation, he said: "And you do not find the lamb too fat?" "No, sire, the fat falls down at the same time as the gravy does, and swims on the surface; then the servant who carves removes the fat with a spoon, which I have had expressly made for that purpose." "Where do you reside?" inquired the king. "At Pierrefonds, sire."
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