The king and Porthos continued to eat in the same manner, to the great satisfaction of the other guests, some of whom, from emulation, had attempted to follow them, but had been obliged to give up on the way. The king soon began to get flushed, and the reaction of the blood to his face announced that the moment of repletion had arrived. It was then that Louis XIV., instead of becoming gay and cheerful, as most good livers generally do, became dull, melancholy and taciturn. Porthos, on the contrary, was lively and communicative. D'Artagnan's foot had more than once to remind him of this peculiarity of the king. The dessert now made its appearance. The king had ceased to think anything further of Porthos: he turned his eyes anxiously toward the entrance-door, and he was heard occasionally to inquire how it happened that Monsieur de Saint-Aignan was so long in arriving. At last, at the moment when his majesty was finishing a pot of preserved plums with a deep sigh, Saint-Aignan appeared. The king's eyes, which had become somewhat dull, immediately began to sparkle. The comte advanced toward the king's table, and Louis arose at his approach. Everybody arose at the same time, including Porthos, who was just finishing an almond cake, capable of making the jaws of a crocodile stick together. The supper was over. CHAPTER XXII. AFTER SUPPER. The king took Saint-Aignan by the arm, and passed into the adjoining apartment. "What has detained you, comte?" said the king. "I was bringing the answer, sire," replied the comte. "She has taken a long time to reply to what I wrote her." "Sire, your majesty has deigned to write in verse, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere wished to repay your majesty in the same coin; that is to say, in gold."