"If that were really the case," thought D'Artagnan, "we should not have found Aramis present at his funeral. The bishop of Vannes is not precisely a dog as far as devotion goes; his scent, however, is quite as keen, I admit." CHAPTER XIV. HOW PORTHOS, TRUeCHEN, AND PLANCHET PARTED WITH EACH OTHER ON FRIENDLY TERMS, THANKS TO D'ARTAGNAN. There was good living in Planchet's house. Porthos broke a ladder and two cherry-trees, stripped the raspberry-bushes, and was only unable to succeed in reaching the strawberry-beds on account, as he said, of his belt. Truechen, who had got quite sociable with the giant, said that it was not the belt so much as his corporation; and Porthos, in a state of the highest delight, embraced Truechen, who gathered him a handful of the strawberries, and made him eat them out of her hand. D'Artagnan, who arrived in the midst of these little innocent flirtations, scolded Porthos for his indolence, and silently pitied Planchet. Porthos breakfasted with a very good appetite, and when he had finished, he said, looking at Truechen, "I could make myself very happy here." Truechen smiled at his remark, and so did Planchet, but the latter not without some embarrassment. D'Artagnan then addressed Porthos--"You must not let the delights of Capua make you forget the real object of our journey to Fontainebleau." "My presentation to the king?" "Certainly. I am going to take a turn in the town to get everything ready for that. Do not think of leaving the house. I beg." "Oh, no!" exclaimed Porthos. Planchet looked at D'Artagnan nervously. "Will you be away long?" he inquired. "No, my friend: and this very evening I will release you from two troublesome guests." "Oh! Monsieur d'Artagnan! can you say--" "No, no; you are an excellent-hearted fellow, but your house is very small. Such a house, with only a couple of acres of land, would be fit for a king, and make him very happy, too. But you were not born a great lord." "No more was M. Porthos," murmured Planchet. "But he has become so, my good fellow; his income has been a hundred thousand francs a year for the last twenty years, and for the last fifty years has been the owner of a couple of fists and a backbone, which are not to be matched throughout the whole realm of France. Porthos is a man of the very greatest consequence compared to you, and ... well, I need say no more, for I know you are an intelligent fellow." "No, no, monsieur, explain what you mean." "Look at your orchard, how stripped it is, how empty your larder, your bedstead broken, your cellar almost exhausted, look too ... at Madame Truechen--" "Oh! my good gracious!" said Planchet. "Madame Truechen is an excellent person," continued D'Artagnan, "but keep her for yourself, do you understand?" and he slapped him on the shoulder.