Chapter 45

Chapter XLV
The Ancestors of Porthos
When d’Artagnan had quitted Aramis and Porthos, the latter returned to the principal fort to converse with the greater liberty. Porthos, still thoughtful, was a constraint upon Aramis, whose mind had never felt itself more free.

“Dear Porthos,” said he, suddenly, “I will explain d’Artagnan’s idea to you.”

“What idea, Aramis?”

“An idea to which we shall owe our liberty within twelve hours.”

“Ah, indeed!” said Porthos, much astonished; “let us hear it.”

“Did you remark in the scene our friend had with the officer that certain orders restrained him with regard to us?”

“Yes, I did remark that.”

“Well, d’Artagnan is going to give in his resignation to the King; and during the confusion which will result from his absence, we will get away,- or rather, you will get away, Porthos, if there is a possibility of flight only for one.”

Here, Porthos shook his head, and replied, “We will escape together, Aramis, or we will remain here together.”

“You are a generous heart,” said Aramis; “but your melancholy uneasiness afflicts me.”

“I am not uneasy,” said Porthos.

“Then you are angry with me?”

“I am not angry with you.”

“Then why, my friend, do you put on such a dismal countenance?”

“I will tell you: I am making my will”; and while saying these words, the good Porthos looked sadly in the face of Aramis.

“Your will!” cried the bishop. “What then! do you think yourself lost?”

“I feel fatigued; it is the first time, and there is a custom in our family.”

“What is it, my friend?”

“My grandfather was a man twice as strong as I am.”

“Indeed!” said Aramis; “then your grandfather must have been Samson himself.”

“No,- his name was Antoine. Well, he was of about my age when, setting out one day for the chase, he felt his legs weak,- he who had never before known that infirmity.”

“What was the meaning of that fatigue, my friend?”

“Nothing good, as you will see,- for having set out, complaining still of the weakness of his legs, he met a wild boar, which made head against him. He missed him with his arquebuse, and was ripped up by the beast, and died directly.”

“There is no reason in that why you should alarm yourself, dear Porthos.”

“Oh, you will see. My father was as strong again as I am. He was a rough soldier under Henry III and Henry IV; his