"The king expects _me!_" cried Porthos, drawing himself up. It is a sad
thing to have to confess, but a man's heart is like an ocean billow; for,
from that very moment Porthos ceased to look at Madame Truchen in that
touching manner which had so softened her heart. Planchet encouraged
these ambitious leanings as best as he could. He talked over, or rather
gave exaggerated accounts of all the splendors of the last reign, its
battles, sieges, and grand court ceremonies. He spoke of the luxurious
display which the English made; the prizes the three brave companions
carried off; and how D'Artagnan, who at the beginning had been the
humblest of the four, finished by becoming the leader. He fired Porthos
with a generous feeling of enthusiasm by reminding him of his early youth
now passed away; he boasted as much as he could of the moral life this
great lord had led, and how religiously he respected the ties of
friendship; he was eloquent, and skillful in his choice of subjects. He
tickled Porthos, frightened Truchen, and made D'Artagnan think. At six
o'clock, the musketeer ordered the horses to be brought round, and told
Porthos to get ready. He thanked Planchet for his kind hospitality,
whispered a few words about a post he might succeed in obtaining for him
at court, which immediately raised Planchet in Truchen's estimation,
where the poor grocer - so good, so generous, so devoted - had become
much lowered ever since the appearance and comparison with him of the two
great gentlemen. Such, however, is a woman's nature; they are anxious to
possess what they have not got, and disdain it as soon as it is
acquired. After having rendered this service to his friend Planchet,
D'Artagnan said in a low tone of voice to Porthos: "That is a very
beautiful ring you have on your finger."

"It is worth three hundred pistoles," said Porthos.