de Lyon, on the opposite side of the hostelry of the Beau Paon. A high
hedge of bushy elders, hawthorn, and wild hops formed an impenetrable
fence, behind which rose a white house, with a high tiled roof. 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 of pillars, formed
the entrance to the house. The door was gained by a step raised a little
from the ground. Planchet got off his horse, as if he intended to knock
at the door; but, on second thoughts, he took hold of his horse by the
bridle, and led it about thirty paces further on, his two companions
following him. He then advanced about another thirty paces, until he
arrived at the door of a cart-house, lighted by an iron grating; and,
lifting up a wooden latch, pushed open one of the folding-doors. He
entered first, leading his horse after him by the bridle, into a small
courtyard, where an odor met them which revealed their 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 my own 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 how
many I have."

When the two cavaliers had entered, Planchet fastened the door behind
them. In the meantime, D'Artagnan, who had dismounted with his usual
agility, inhaled the fresh perfumed air with the delight a Parisian feels
at the sight of green fields and fresh foliage, plucked a piece of
honeysuckle with one hand, and of sweet-briar with the other. Porthos
clawed hold of some peas which were twined round poles stuck into the
ground, and ate, or rather browsed upon them, shells and all: and
Planchet was busily engaged trying to wake up an old and infirm peasant,