"That Porthos, often walking out in a morning, without saying anything, had probably gone out."
"What did you do, then?"
"I went to the stables," replied D'Artagnan, carelessly.
"What to do?"
"To see if Porthos had departed on horseback."
"And?" interrogated the bishop.
"Well, there is a horse missing, stall No. 3, Goliath."
All this dialogue, it may be easily understood, was not exempt from a certain affectation on the part of the musketeer, and a perfect complaisance on the part of Aramis.
"Oh! I guess how it is," said Aramis, after having considered for a moment, "Porthos is gone out to give us a surprise."
"A surprise?"
"Yes; the canal which goes from Vannes to the sea abounds in teal and snipes; that is Porthos's favorite sport, and he will bring us back a dozen for breakfast."
"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan.
"I am sure of it. Where else can he be? I would lay a wager he took a gun with him."
"Well, that is possible," said D'Artagnan.
"Do one thing, my friend. Get on horseback, and join him."
"You are right," said D'Artagnan, "I will."
"Shall I go with you?"
"No, thank you; Porthos is a rather remarkable man: I will inquire as I go along."
"Will you take an arquebus?"
"Thank you."
"Order what horse you like to be saddled."
"The one I rode yesterday, on coming from Belle-Isle."
"So be it: use the horse as your own."
Aramis rang, and gave orders to have the horse M. d'Artagnan had chosen saddled.
D'Artagnan followed the servant charged with the execution of this order. When arrived at the door, the servant drew on one side to allow M. d'Artagnan to pass; and at that moment he caught the eye of his master. A knitting of the brow gave the intelligent spy to understand that all should be given to D'Artagnan he wished. D'Artagnan got into the saddle, and Aramis heard the steps of his horse on the pavement. An instant after, the servant returned.
"Well?" asked the bishop.
"Monseigneur, he has followed the course of the canal, and is going towards the sea," said the servant.
"Very well!" said Aramis.
In fact, D'Artagnan, dismissing all suspicion, hastened towards the ocean, constantly hoping to see in the _Landes_, or on the beach, the colossal profile of Porthos. He persisted in fancying he could trace a horse's steps in every puddle. Sometimes he imagined he heard the report of a gun. This illusion lasted three hours; during two of which he went forward in search of his friend - in the last he returned to the house.
"We must have crossed," said he, "and I shall find them waiting for me at table."
D'Artagnan was mistaken. He no more found Porthos at the palace than he had found him on the sea-shore. Aramis was waiting for him at the top of the stairs, looking very much concerned.
"Did my people not find you, my dear D'Artagnan?" cried he, as soon as he caught sight of the musketeer.
"No; did you send any one after me?"
"I am deeply concerned, my friend, deeply, to have induced you to make such a useless search; but, about seven o'clock, the almoner of Saint-Patern came here. He had met Du Vallon, who was going away, and who, being unwilling to disturb anybody at the palace, had charged him to tell me that, fearing M. Getard would play him some ill turn in his absence, he was going to take advantage of the morning tide to make a tour of Belle-Isle."
"But tell me, Goliath has not crossed the four leagues of sea, I should think."
"There are full six," said Aramis.
"That makes it less probable still."
"Therefore, my friend," said Aramis, with one of his blandest smiles, "Goliath is in the stable, well pleased, I will answer for it, that Porthos is no longer on his back." In fact, the horse had been brought back from the relay by the direction of the prelate, from whom no detail escaped. D'Artagnan appeared as well satisfied with as possible with the explanation. He entered upon a part of dissimulation which agreed perfectly with the suspicions that arose more strongly in his mind. He breakfasted between the Jesuit and Aramis, having the Dominican in front of him, and smiling particularly at the Dominican, whose jolly, fat face pleased him much. The repast was long and sumptuous; excellent Spanish wine, fine Morbihan oysters, exquisite fish from the mouth of the Loire, enormous prawns from Paimboeuf, and delicious game from the moors, constituted the principal part of it. D'Artagnan ate much, and drank but little. Aramis drank nothing, unless it was water. After the repast, -"You offered me an arquebus," said D'Artagnan.
"I did."
"Lend it me, then."
"Are you going shooting?"
"Whilst waiting for Porthos, it is the best thing I can do, I think."
"Take which you like from the trophy."
"Will you not come with me?"