“Nonsense! You must not be particular about a soldier’s manners!” replied D’Artagnan. “I kiss your hands, my dear M. Colbert.” And he went out, laughing in the face of the future minister. “That man, now,” muttered he, “was about to grow quite friendly; it is a great pity I was obliged to cut his company so soon.” CHAPTER 65. Philosophy of the Heart and Mind For a man who had seen so many much more dangerous ones, the position of D’Artagnan with respect to M. Colbert was only comic. D’Artagnan, therefore, did not deny himself the satisfaction of laughing at the expense of monsieur l’intendant, from the Rue des Petits-Champs to the Rue des Lombards. It was a great while since D’Artagnan had laughed so long together. He was still laughing when Planchet appeared, laughing likewise, at the door of his house; for Planchet, since the return of his patron, since the entrance of the English guineas, passed the greater part of his life in doing what D’Artagnan had only done from Rue-Neuve des Petits-Champs to the Rue des Lombards. “You are home, then, my dear master?” said Planchet. “No, my friend,” replied the musketeer, “I am off and that quickly. I will sup with you, go to bed, sleep five hours, and at break of day leap into my saddle. Has my horse had an extra feed?” “Eh! my dear master,” replied Planchet, “you know very well that your horse is the jewel of the family; that my lads are caressing it all day, and cramming it with sugar, nuts, and biscuits. You ask me if he has had an extra feed of oats; you should ask if he has not had enough to burst him.” “Very well, Planchet, that is all right. Now, then, I pass to what concerns me—my supper?” “Ready. A smoking roast joint, white wine, crayfish and fresh-gathered cherries. All ready, my master.” “You are a capital fellow, Planchet; come on, then, let us sup, and I will go to bed.” During supper D’Artagnan observed that Planchet kept rubbing his forehead, as if to facilitate the issue of some idea closely pent within his brain. He looked with an air of kindness at this worthy companion of former adventures and misadventures, and, clinking glass against glass, “Come, Planchet,” said he, “let us see what it is that gives you so much trouble to bring forth. Mordioux! Speak freely, and quickly.” “Well, this is it,” replied Planchet: “you appear to me to be going on some expedition or other.” “I don’t say that I am not.” “Then you have some new idea?” “That is possible, too, Planchet.” “Then there will be fresh capital to be ventured? I will lay down fifty thousand livres upon the idea you are about to carry out.” And so saying, Planchet rubbed his hands one against the other with a rapidity evincing great delight. “Planchet,” said D’Artagnan, “there is but one misfortune in it.” “And what is that?” “That the idea is not mine. I can risk nothing upon it.”