“Yes, there are two hundred of them, and each of them will need two, which will make four hundred.” “But four hundred what?” “Listen!” cried D’Artagnan. But as there were all kinds of people about, who were in a state of stupefaction at the unexpected arrival of the court, he whispered in his friend’s ear. “I understand,” answered Porthos, “I understand you perfectly, on my honor; two hundred louis, each of us, would be making a pretty thing of it; but what will people say?” “Let them say what they will; besides, how will they know that we are doing it?” “But who will distribute these things?” asked Porthos. “Isn’t Mousqueton there?” “But he wears my livery; my livery will be known,” replied Porthos. “He can turn his coat inside out.” “You are always in the right, my dear friend,” cried Porthos; “but where the devil do you discover all the notions you put into practice?” D’Artagnan smiled. The two friends turned down the first street they came to. Porthos knocked at the door of a house to the right, whilst D’Artagnan knocked at the door of a house to the left. “Some straw,” they said. “Sir, we don’t keep any,” was the reply of the people who opened the doors; “but please ask at the hay dealer’s.” “Where is the hay dealer’s?” “At the last large door in the street.” “Are there any other people in Saint Germain who sell straw?” “Yes; there’s the landlord of the Lamb, and Gros-Louis the farmer; they both live in the Rue des Ursulines.” “Very well.” D’Artagnan went instantly to the hay dealer and bargained with him for a hundred and fifty trusses of straw, which he obtained, at the rate of three pistoles each. He went afterward to the innkeeper and bought from him two hundred trusses at the same price. Finally, Farmer Louis sold them eighty trusses, making in all four hundred and thirty. There was no more to be had in Saint Germain. This foraging did not occupy more than half an hour. Mousqueton, duly instructed, was put at the head of this sudden and new business. He was cautioned not to let a bit of straw out of his hands under a louis the truss, and they intrusted to him straw to the amount of four hundred and thirty louis. D’Artagnan, taking with him three trusses of straw, returned to the château, where everybody, freezing with cold and more than half asleep, envied the king, the queen, and the Duke of Orléans, on their camp beds. The lieutenant’s entrance produced a burst of laughter in the great drawing-room; but he did not appear to notice that he was the object of general attention, but began to arrange, with so much cleverness, nicety and gayety, his straw bed, that the mouths of all these poor creatures, who could not go to sleep, began to water. “Straw!” they all cried out, “straw! where is there any to be found?” “I can show you,” answered the Gascon.