43 LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE.
- 'The deuce," thought D'Artagnan, "can Porthos have any
intentions in that quarter?" In the meantime Triichen had set her cook to work, had laid the table for two more, and covered it with every pos- sible delicacy, which converts a light supper into a substan- tial meal, and a meal into a regular feast. Fresh butter, salt beef, anchovies, tunny, a shopful of Planchet's com- modities, fowls, vegetables, salad, fish from the pond and the river, game from the forest — all the produce, in fact, of the province. Moreover, Planchet returned from the cellar, laden with ten bottles of wine, the glass of which could hardly be seen for the thick coating of dust which covered them. Porthos' heart seemed to expand as he said, "I am hungry," and he sat himself beside Mme. Triichen, whom he looked at in the most killing manner. D'Artagnan seated himself on the other side of her, while Planchet, discreetly and full of delight, took his seat opposite. "Do not trouble yourselves," he said, "if Triichen should leave the table now and then during supper; for she will have to look after your bedrooms." In fact, the housekeeper made her escape very frequently, and they could hear, on the first floor above them, the creaking of the wooden bedsteads and the rolling of the castors on the floor. While this was going on the three men, Porthos especially, ate and drank gloriously — it was wonderful to see them. The ten full bottles were ten empty ones by the time Triichen returned with the cheese. D'Artagnan still preserved his dignity and self-possession, but Porthos had lost a portion of his; the mirth soon be- gan to be somewhat uproarious. D'Artagnan recommended a new descent into the cellar, and, as Planchet did not walk with the steadiness of a well-trained foot-soldier, the cap- tain of the musketeers proposed to accompany him. They set off, humming songs wild enough to frighten anybody who might be listening. Triichen remained behind at table with Porthos. While the two wine-bibbers were look- ing behind the firewood for what they wanted, a sharp sonorous sound was heard like the impression of a pair of lips on a cheek. "Porthos fancies himself at La Eochelle," thought D'Ar- tagnan, as they returned freighted with bottles. Planchet was singing so loudly that he was incapable of noticing any- thing. D'Artagnan, whom nothing ever escaped, remarked how much redder Triichen's left cheek was than her right.
