“Nothing could happen more fortunately, my young friend,” replied Porthos; “I have eight thousand livres sent me this morning from Pierrefonds; and if you want any money—”
“No, I thank you; it is not money.”
“So much the worse, then. I have always heard it said that that is the rarest service, but the easiest to render. The remark struck me; I like to cite remarks that strike me.”
“Your heart is as good as your mind is sound and true.”
“You are much too kind, I declare. You will dine here, of course?”
“No; I am not hungry.”
“Eh! not dine? What a dreadful country England is!”
“Not too much so, indeed—but—”
“Well, if such excellent fish and meat were not to be procured there, it would hardly be endurable.”
“Yes, I came to—”
“I am listening. Only just allow me to take a little sip. One gets thirsty in Paris”; and he ordered a bottle of champagne to be brought; and, having first filled Raoul’s glass, he filled his own, drank it down at a gulp, and then resumed: “I needed that, in order to listen to you with proper attention. I am now entirely at your service. What do you wish to ask me, dear Raoul? What do you want?”
“Give me your opinion on quarrels in general, my dear friend.”
“My opinion! Well—but—Explain your idea a little more coherently,” replied Porthos, rubbing his forehead.
“I mean—you are generally good-humored, good-tempered, whenever any misunderstanding arises between a friend of yours and a stranger, for instance?”
“Oh! in the best of tempers.”
“Very good; but what do you do, in such a case?”
“Whenever any friend of mine gets into a quarrel, I always act on one principle.”
“What is that?”
“That lost time is irreparable, and one never arranges an affair so well as when everything has been done to embroil the disputants as much as possible.”
“Ah! indeed, is that the principle on which you proceed?”
“Precisely; so, as soon as a quarrel takes place, I bring the two parties together.”
“Exactly.”
“You understand that by this means it is impossible for an affair not to be arranged.”
“I should have thought that, treated in this manner, an affair would, on the contrary—”
“Oh! not the least in the world. Just fancy, now, I have had in my life something like a hundred and eighty to a hundred and ninety regular duels, without reckoning hasty encounters, or chance meetings.”
“It is a very handsome aggregate,” said Raoul, unable to resist a smile.
“A mere nothing; but I am so gentle. D’Artagnan reckons his duels by hundreds. It is very true he is a little too hard and sharp—I have often told him so.”
“And so,” resumed Raoul, “you generally arrange the affairs of honor your friends confide to you.”
“There is not a single instance in which I have not finished by arranging every one of them,” said Porthos, with a gentleness and confidence that surprised Raoul.
“But the way in which you settle them is at least honorable, I suppose?”
“Oh! rely upon that; and at this stage, I will explain my other principle to you. As soon as my friend has entrusted his quarrel to me, this is what I do; I go to his adversary at once, armed with a politeness and self-possession absolutely requisite under such circumstances.”
“That is the way, then,” said Raoul, bitterly, “that you arrange affairs so safely.”
“I believe you. I go to the adversary, then, and say to him: ‘It is impossible, Monsieur, that you are ignorant of the extent to which you have insulted my friend.’ ” Raoul frowned at this remark.
“It sometimes happens—very often, indeed,” pursued Porthos—“that my friend has not been insulted at all; he has even been the first to give offense; you can imagine, therefore, whether my language is or is not well chosen.” And Porthos burst into a peal of laughter.
Decidedly
, said Raoul to himself while the merry thunder of Porthos’s laughter was resounding in his ears, I am very unfortunate. De Guiche treats me with coolness, d’Artagnan with ridicule, Porthos is too tame; no one will settle this affair in the only way I wish it to be settled. And I came to Porthos because I wanted to find a sword instead of cold reasoning at my service. My ill-luck dogs me.
Porthos, who had recovered himself, continued: “By one simple expression, I leave my adversary without an excuse.”
“That is as it may happen,” said Raoul, absently.
“Not at all, it is quite certain. I have not left him an excuse; and then it is that I display all my courtesy, in order to attain the happy issue of my project. I advance, therefore, with an air of great politeness, and taking my adversary by the hand, I say to him: ‘Now that you are convinced of having given the offense, we are sure of reparation; between my friend and
