“That is true.” “Well! that is it,” said D’Artagnan, hoping that this reason would mystify Porthos. Porthos appeared to give himself up to a violent mental labor. “Yes, yes,” said he, “I understand. As Aramis told me to come before the equinox, you have understood that that was to join him. You then inquired where Aramis was, saying to yourself, ‘Where Aramis is, there Porthos will be.’ You have learnt that Aramis was in Bretagne, and you said to yourself, ‘Porthos is in Bretagne.’” “Exactly. In good truth, Porthos I cannot tell why you have not turned conjurer. So you understand that arriving at Roche-Bernard, I heard of the splendid fortifications going on at Belle-Isle. The account raised my curiosity, I embarked in a fishing boat, without dreaming that you were here: I came, and I saw a monstrous fine fellow lifting a stone Ajax could not have stirred. I cried out, ‘Nobody but the Baron de Bracieux could have performed such a feat of strength.’ You heard me, you turned round, you recognized me, we embraced; and, ma foi! if you like, my dear friend, we will embrace again.” “Ah! now all is explained,” said Porthos; and he embraced D’Artagnan with so much friendship as to deprive the musketeer of his breath for five minutes. “Why, you are stronger than ever,” said D’Artagnan, “and still, happily, in your arms.” Porthos saluted D’Artagnan with a gracious smile. During the five minutes D’Artagnan was recovering his breath, he reflected that he had a very difficult part to play. It was necessary that he always should question and never reply. By the time his respiration returned, he had fixed his plans for the campaign. CHAPTER 70. Wherein the Ideas of D’Artagnan, at first strangely clouded, begin to clear up a little. D’Artagnan immediately took the offensive. “Now that I have told you all, dear friend, or rather now you have guessed all, tell me what you are doing here, covered with dust and mud?” Porthos wiped his brow, and looked around him with pride. “Why, it appears,” said he, “that you may see what I am doing here.” “No doubt, no doubt, you lift great stones.” “Oh! to show these idle fellows what a man is,” said Porthos, with contempt. “But you understand——” “Yes, that it is not your place to lift stones, although there are many whose place it is, who cannot lift them as you do. It was that which made me ask you, just now, What are you doing here, baron?” “I am studying topography, chevalier.” “You are studying topography?” “Yes; but you—what are you doing in that common dress?” D’Artagnan perceived he had committed a fault in giving expression to his astonishment. Porthos had taken advantage of it, to retort with a question. “Why,” said he, “you know I am a bourgeois, in fact; my dress, then, has nothing astonishing in it, since it conforms with my condition.” “Nonsense! you are a musketeer.” “You are wrong, my friend; I have given in my resignation.” “Bah!” “Oh, mon Dieu! yes.”