"Oh, oh!" said Porthos, with admiration.

"So that, monsieur le baron," continued the grocer, "I again beg you to
be kind enough to call me Planchet, as you used to do; and to speak to me
as familiarly as in old times. You cannot possibly imagine the pleasure
it would give me."

"If that be the case, my dear Planchet, I will do so, certainly," replied
Porthos. And as he was quite close to Planchet, he raised his hand, as
if to strike him on the shoulder, in token of friendly cordiality; but a
fortunate movement of the horse made him miss his aim, so that his hand
fell on the crupper of Planchet's horse, instead; which made the animal's
legs almost give way.

D'Artagnan burst out laughing, as he said, "Take care, Planchet; for if
Porthos begins to like you so much, he will caress you, and if he
caresses you he will knock you as flat as a pancake. Porthos is still
as strong as every, you know."

"Oh," said Planchet, "Mousqueton is not dead, and yet monsieur le baron
is very fond of him."

"Certainly," said Porthos, with a sigh which made all the three horses
rear; "and I was only saying, this very morning, to D'Artagnan, how much
I regretted him. But tell me, Planchet?"

"Thank you, monsieur le baron, thank you."

"Good lad, good lad! How many acres of park have you got?"