to swallow what you have in it, whenever the king does you the honor to
address a remark to you."

"Very good," said Porthos; and from that moment he began to eat with a
certain well-bred enthusiasm.

The king occasionally looked at the different persons who were at table
with him, and, _en connoisseur_, could appreciate the different
dispositions of his guests.

"Monsieur du Vallon!" he said.

Porthos was enjoying a _salmi de lievre_, and swallowed half of the
back. His name, pronounced in such a manner, made him start, and by a
vigorous effort of his gullet he absorbed the whole mouthful.

"Sire," replied Porthos, in a stifled voice, but sufficiently
intelligible, nevertheless.

"Let those _filets d'agneau_ be handed to Monsieur du Vallon," said the
king; "do you like brown meats, M. du Vallon?"

"Sire, I like everything," replied Porthos.

D'Artagnan whispered: "Everything your majesty sends me."

Porthos repeated: "Everything your majesty sends me," an observation
which the king apparently received with great satisfaction.

"People eat well who work well," replied the king, delighted to have _en