“No,” said Porthos, “I expected some gentlemen of the neighborhood, who have just sent me word they could not come. You will take their places and I shall not lose by the exchange. Holà , Mousqueton, seats, and order double the bottles!”
“Do you know what we are eating here?” said Athos, at the end of ten minutes.
“ Pardieu! ” replied d’Artagnan, “for my part, I am eating veal garnished with shrimps and vegetables.”
“And I some lamb chops,” said Porthos.
“And I a plain chicken,” said Aramis.
“You are all mistaken, gentlemen,” answered Athos, gravely; “you are eating horse.”
“Eating what?” said d’Artagnan.
“Horse!” said Aramis, with a grimace of disgust.
Porthos alone made no reply.
“Yes, horse. Are we not eating a horse, Porthos? And perhaps his saddle, therewith.”
“No, gentlemen, I have kept the harness,” said Porthos.
“My faith,” said Aramis, “we are all alike. One would think we had tipped the wink.”
“What could I do?” said Porthos. “This horse made my visitors ashamed of theirs, and I don’t like to humiliate people.”
“Then your duchess is still at the waters?” asked d’Artagnan.