Chapter 14

Chapter XIV
A Gascon, and a Gascon and a Half
D’Artagnan had lost no time; in fact, he was not in the habit of doing so. After having inquired for Aramis, he had looked for him in every direction until he had succeeded in finding him. Now, no sooner had the King entered Vaux than Aramis had retired to his own room, meditating doubtless some new piece of gallant attention for his Majesty’s amusement. D’Artagnan desired the servants to announce him, and found on the second story, in a beautiful room called the blue room on account of the color of its hangings, the Bishop of Vannes in company with Porthos and several of the modern Epicureans. Aramis came forward to embrace his friend, and offered him the best seat. As it was after a while generally remarked among those present that the musketeer was reserved, apparently wishing for an opportunity to converse privately with Aramis, the Epicureans took their leave. Porthos, however, did not stir; having dined exceedingly well, he was fast asleep in his arm-chair, and the freedom of conversation therefore was not interrupted by a third person. Porthos had a deep, harmonious snore; and people might talk in the midst of its loud bass without fear of disturbing him.

D’Artagnan felt that he was called upon to open the conversation. The encounter he had come to seek would be rough; so he delicately approached the subject. “Well, and so we have come to Vaux,” he said.

“Why, yes, d’Artagnan. And how do you like the place?”

“Very much; and I like M. Fouquet also.”

“Is he not a charming host?”

“No one could be more so.”

“I am told that the King began by being very distant in his manner toward M. Fouquet, but that his Majesty became much more cordial afterwards.”

“You did not notice it, then, since you say you have been told so?”

“No; I was engaged with those gentlemen who have just left the room about the theatrical performances and the tournament which are to take place to-morrow.”

“Ah, indeed! You are the comptroller-general of the fetes here, then?”

“You know I am a friend of all kinds of amusement where the exercise of the imagination is required; I have always been a poet in one way or another.”

“Yes, I remember the verses you used to write; they were charming.”

“I have forgotten them; but I am delighted to read the verses of others, when those others are known by the names of Moliere, Pélisson, La Fontaine, etc.”

“Do you know what idea occurred to me this evening, Aramis?”

“No; tell me what it was, for I should never be able to guess it, you have so many.”

“Well, the idea occurred to me