Chapter V. Planchet's Country-House.
The cavaliers looked up, and saw that what Planchet had announced tothem was true. Ten minutes afterwards they were in the street called theRue de Lyon, on the opposite side of the hostelry of the Beau Paon.A high hedge of bushy elders, hawthorn, and wild hops formed animpenetrable fence, behind which rose a white house, with a high tiledroof. Two of the windows, which were quite dark, looked upon the street.Between the two, a small door, with a porch supported by a couple ofpillars, formed the entrance to the house. The door was gained by a stepraised a little from the ground. Planchet got off his horse, as if heintended to knock at the door; but, on second thoughts, he took hold ofhis horse by the bridle, and led it about thirty paces further on, histwo companions following him. He then advanced about another thirtypaces, until he arrived at the door of a cart-house, lighted by aniron grating; and, lifting up a wooden latch, pushed open one of thefolding-doors. He entered first, leading his horse after him by thebridle, into a small courtyard, where an odor met them which revealedtheir close vicinity to a stable. "That smells all right," said Porthos,loudly, getting off his horse, "and I almost begin to think I am near myown cows at Pierrefonds."
"I have only one cow," Planchet hastened to say modestly.
"And I have thirty," said Porthos; "or rather, I don't exactly know howmany I have."
When the two cavaliers had entered, Planchet fastened the door behindthem. In the meantime, D'Artagnan, who had dismounted with his usualagility, inhaled the fresh perfumed air with the delight a Parisianfeels at the sight of green fields and fresh foliage, plucked a pieceof honeysuckle with one hand, and of sweet-briar with the other. Porthosclawed hold of some peas which were twined round poles stuck intothe ground, and ate, or rather browsed upon them, shells and all: andPlanchet was busily engaged trying to wake up an old and infirm peasant,who was fast asleep in a shed, lying on a bed of moss, and dressed inan old stable suit of clothes. The peasant, recognizing Planchet, calledhim "the master," to the grocer's great satisfaction. "Stable the horseswell, old fellow, and you shall have something good for yourself," saidPlanchet.
"Yes, yes; fine animals they are too," said the peasant. "Oh! they shallhave as much as they like."
"Gently, gently, my man," said D'Artagnan, "we are getting on a littletoo fast. A few oats and a good bed--nothing more."
"Some bran and water for my horse," said Porthos, "for it is very warm,I think."
"Don't be afraid, gentlemen," replied Planchet; "Daddy Celestin is anold gendarme, who fought at Ivry. He knows all about horses; so comeinto the house." And he led the way along a well-sheltered walk, whichcrossed a kitchen-garden, then a small paddock, and came out into alittle garden behind the house, the principal front of which, as we havealready noticed, faced the street. As they approached, they couldsee, through two open windows on the ground floor, which led into asitting-room, the interior of Planchet's residence. This room, softlylighted by a lamp placed on the table, seemed, from the end of thegarden, like a smiling image of repose, comfort, and happiness. In everydirection where the rays of light fell, whether upon a piece of oldchina, or upon an article of furniture shining from excessive neatness,or upon the weapons hanging against the wall, the soft light was softlyreflected; and its rays seemed to linger everywhere upon something oranother, agreeable to the eye. The lamp which lighted the room, whilstthe foliage of jasmine and climbing roses hung in masses from thewindow-frames, splendidly illuminated a damask table-cloth as white assnow. The table was laid for two persons. Amber-colored wine sparkledin a long cut-glass bottle; and a large jug of blue china, with a silverlid, was filled with foaming cider. Near the table, in a high-backedarmchair, reclined, fast asleep, a woman of about thirty years of age,her face the very picture of health and freshness. Upon her knees laya large cat, with her paws folded under her, and her eyes half-closed,purring in that significant manner which, according to feline habits,indicates perfect contentment. The two friends paused before the windowin complete amazement, while Planchet, perceiving their astonishment,was in no little degree secretly delighted at it.
"Ah! Planchet, you rascal," said D'Artagnan, "I now understand yourabsences."
"Oh, oh! there is some white linen!" said Porthos, in his turn, in avoice of thunder. At the sound of this gigantic voice, the cat tookflight, the housekeeper woke up with a start, and Planchet, assuminga gracious air, introduced his two companions into the room, where thetable was already laid.
"Permit me, my dear," he said, "to present to you Monsieur le Chevalierd'Artagnan, my patron." D'Artagnan took the lady's hand in his in themost courteous manner, and with precisely the same chivalrous air as hewould have taken Madame's.
"Monsieur le Baron du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds," addedPlanchet. Porthos bowed with a reverence which Anne of Austria wouldhave approved of.
It was then Planchet's turn, and he unhesitatingly embraced the ladyin question, not, however, until he had made a sign as if requestingD'Artagnan's and Porthos's permission, a permission as a matter ofcourse frankly conceded. D'Artagnan complimented Planchet, and said,"You are indeed a man who knows how to make life agreeable."
"Life, monsieur," said Planchet, laughing, "is capital which a man oughtto invest as sensibly as he possibly can."
"And you get very good interest for yours," said Porthos, with a burstof laughter like a peal of thunder.
Planchet turned to his housekeeper. "You have before you," he said toher, "the two gentlemen who influenced the greatest, gayest, grandestportion of my life. I have spoken to you about them both veryfrequently."
"And about two others as well," said the lady, with a very decidedFlemish accent.
"Madame is Dutch?" inquired D'Artagnan. Porthos curled his mustache, acircumstance which was not lost upon D'Artagnan, who noticed everything.
"I am from Antwerp," said the lady.
"And her name is Madame Getcher," said Planchet.
"You should not call her madame," said D'Artagnan.
"Why not?" asked Planchet.
"Because it would make her seem older every time you call her so."
"Well, I call her Truchen."
"And a very pretty name too," said Porthos.
"Truchen," said Planchet, "came to me from Flanders with her virtue andtwo thousand florins. She ran away from a brute of a husband who was inthe habit of beating her. Being myself a Picard born, I was alwaysvery fond of the Artesian women, and it is only a step from Artois toFlanders; she came crying bitterly to her godfather, my predecessorin the Rue des Lombards; she placed her two thousand florins in myestablishment, which I have turned to very good account, and which havebrought her in ten thousand."
"Bravo, Planchet."
"She is free and well off; she has a cow, a maid servant and oldCelestin at her orders; she mends my linen, knits my winter stockings;she only sees me every fortnight, and seems to make herself in allthings tolerably happy.
"And indeed, gentlemen, I _am_ very happy and comfortable," saidTruchen, with perfect ingenuousness.
Porthos began to curl the other side of his mustache. "The deuce,"thought D'Artagnan, "can Porthos have any intentions in that quarter?"
In the meantime Truchen had set her cook to work, had laid the table fortwo more, and covered it with every possible delicacy that could converta light supper into a substantial meal, a meal into a regular feast.Fresh butter, salt beef, anchovies, tunny, a shopful of Planchet'scommodities, fowls, vegetables, salad, fish from the pond and theriver, game from the forest--all the produce, in fact, of the province.Moreover, Planchet returned from the cellar, laden with ten bottles ofwine, the glass of which could hardly be seen for the thick coating ofdust which covered them. Porthos's heart began to expand as he said, "Iam hungry," and he sat himself beside Madame Truchen, whom he looked atin the most killing manner. D'Artagnan seated himself on the other sideof her, while Planchet, discreetly and full of delight, took his seatopposite.
"Do not trouble yourselves," he said, "
if Truchen should leave thetable now and then during supper; for she will have to look after yourbedrooms."
In fact, the housekeeper made her escape quite frequently, and theycould hear, on the first floor above them, the creaking of the woodenbedsteads and the rolling of the castors on the floor. While thiswas going on, the three men, Porthos especially, ate and drankgloriously,--it was wonderful to see them. The ten full bottles were tenempty ones by the time Truchen returned with the cheese. D'Artagnanstill preserved his dignity and self-possession, but Porthos had losta portion of his; and the mirth soon began to grow somewhat uproarious.D'Artagnan recommended a new descent into the cellar, and, as Planchetno longer walked with the steadiness of a well-trained foot-soldier,the captain of the musketeers proposed to accompany him. They set off,humming songs wild enough to frighten anybody who might be listening.Truchen remained behind at table with Porthos. While the twowine-bibbers were looking behind the firewood for what they wanted, asharp report was heard like the impact of a pair of lips on a lady'scheek.
"Porthos fancies himself at La Rochelle," thought D'Artagnan, as theyreturned freighted with bottles. Planchet was singing so loudly thathe was incapable of noticing anything. D'Artagnan, whom nothing everescaped, remarked how much redder Truchen's left cheek was than herright. Porthos was sitting on Truchen's left, and was curling with bothhis hands both sides of his mustache at once, and Truchen was looking athim with a most bewitching smile. The sparkling wine of Anjou very soonproduced a remarkable effect upon the three companions. D'Artagnan hadhardly strength enough left to take a candlestick to light Planchet uphis own staircase. Planchet was pulling Porthos along, who was followingTruchen, who was herself jovial enough. It was D'Artagnan who found outthe rooms and the beds. Porthos threw himself into the one destined forhim, after his friend had undressed him. D'Artagnan got into his ownbed, saying to himself, "_Mordioux!_ I had made up my mind never totouch that light-colored wine, which brings my early camp days backagain. Fie! fie! if my musketeers were only to see their captain in sucha state." And drawing the curtains of his bed, he added, "Fortunatelyenough, though, they will not see me."
"The country is very amusing," said Porthos, stretching out his legs,which passed through the wooden footboard, and made a tremendouscrash, of which, however, no one in the house was capable of takingthe slightest notice. By two o'clock in the morning every one was fastasleep.