and his little finger, and then had glanced along his side, but without penetrating deeply into his chest. It was the pain rather than the seriousness of the wound, therefore, which had overcome De Guiche. Manicamp passed his arm under one of the comte's shoulders, and De Wardes did the same with the other, and in this way they brought him back to Fontainebleau, to the house of the same doctor who had been present at the death of the Franciscan, Aramis' predecessor.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE KING'S SUPPER.
The king, while these matters were being arranged, had sat down to the supper-table, and the not very large number of guests invited for that day had taken their seats, after the usual gesture intimating the royal permission to be seated. At this period of Louis XIV.'s reign, although etiquette was not governed by the strict regulations which subsequently were adopted, the French court had entirely thrown aside the traditions of good-fellowship and patriarchal affability which existed in the time of Henry IV., and which the suspicious mind of Louis XIII. had gradually replaced by the pompous state, forms, and ceremonies which he despaired of being able fully to realize.
The king, therefore, was seated alone at a small separate table, which, like the desk of a president, overlooked the adjoining tables. Although we say a small table, we must not omit to add that this small table was the largest one there. Moreover, it was the one on which were placed the greatest number and quantity of dishes; consisting of fish, game, meat, fruit, vegetables, and preserves. The king was young and full of vigor and energy, very fond of hunting, addicted to all violent exercises of the body, possessing, besides, like all the members of the Bourbon family, a rapid digestion, and an appetite speedily renewed. Louis XIV. was a formidable table-companion; he delighted to criticise his cooks; but when he honored them by praise and commendation, the honor was overwhelming. The king began by eating several kinds of soup, either mixed together or taken separately. He intermixed, or rather he separated, each of the soups by a glass of old wine. He ate quickly and somewhat greedily. Porthos, who from the beginning had, out of respect, been waiting for a jog of D'Artagnan's arm, seeing the king make such rapid progress, turned to the musketeer and said in a low tone:
"It seems as if one might go on now; his majesty is very encouraging, from the example he sets. Look."
"The king eats," said D'Artagnan, "but he talks at the same time; try and manage matters in such manner that, if he should happen to address a remark to you, he should not find you with your mouth full, which would be very disrespectful."
"The best way in that case," said Porthos, "is to eat no supper at all; and yet I am very hungry, I admit, and everything looks and smells most invitingly, as if appealing to all my senses at once."
"Don't think of not eating for a moment," said D'Artagnan; "that would put his majesty out terribly. The king has a saying, 'that he who works well eats well,' and he does not like people to eat indifferently at his table."
"How can I avoid having my mouth full if I eat?" said Porthos.
"All you have to do," replied the captain of the musketeers, "is simply to swallow what you have in it whenever the king does you the honor to address a remark to you."
"Very good," said Porthos: and from that moment he began to eat with a well-bred enthusiasm of manner.
The king occasionally looked at the different persons who were at table with him, and en connoisseur, could appreciate the different dispositions of his guests.
"Monsieur de Valon!" he said.
Porthos was enjoying a salmi de lièvre, and swallowed half of the back. His name pronounced in such a manner had made him start, and by a vigorous effort of his gullet he absorbed the whole mouthful.
"Sire," replied Porthos, in a stifled voice, but sufficiently intelligible, nevertheless.
"Let those filets d'agneau be handed to Monsieur de Valon," said the king. "Do you like brown meats, M. de Valon?"
"Sire, I like everything," replied Porthos.
D'Artagnan whispered, "Everything your majesty sends me."
Porthos repeated, "Everything your majesty sends me," an observation which the king apparently received with great satisfaction.
"People eat well who work well," replied the king, delighted to have en tete-à-tete a guest who could eat as Porthos did. Porthos received the dish of lamb, and put a portion of it on his own plate.
"Well?" said the king.
"Exquisite," said Porthos, calmly.
"Have you as good mutton in your part of the country, Monsieur de Valon?" continued the king.
"Sire, I believe that from my own province, as everywhere else, the best of everything is sent to Paris for your majesty's use; but, on the other hand, I do not eat lamb in the same way your majesty does."
"Ah, ah! and how do you eat it?"
"Generally, I have a lamb dressed quite whole."
"Quite whole?"
"Yes, sire."
"In what manner, then?"
"In this, sire: My cook, who is a German, first stuffs the lamb in question with small sausages which he procures from Strasburg, force-meat balls which he procures from Troyes, and larks which he procures from Pithiviers: by some means or other, which I am not acquainted with, he bones the lamb as he would do a fowl, leaving-the skin on, however, which forms a brown crust all over the animal; when it is cut in beautiful slices, in the same way as an enormous sausage, a rose-colored gravy pours forth, which is as agreeable to the eye as it is exquisite to the palate." And Porthos finished by smacking his lips.
The king-opened his eyes with delight, and, while cutting some of the faisan en daube, which was being handed to him, he said:
"That is a dish I should very much like to taste, Monsieur de Valon. Is it possible! a whole lamb!"
"Completely so, sire."
"Pass those pheasants to M. de Valon; I perceive he is an amateur."
The order was immediately obeyed. Then, continuing the conversation, he said: "And you do not find the lamb too fat?"
"No, sire; the fat falls down at the same time as the gravy does, and swims on the surface: then the servant who carves removes the fat with a spoon, which I have had expressly made for that purpose."
"Where do you reside?" inquired the king.
"At Pierrefonds, sire."
"At Pierrefonds; where is that, M. de Valon—near Belle-Isle?"
"Oh, no, sire; Pierrefonds is in the Soissonnais."
"I thought you alluded to the lamb on account
