How D'Artagnan became Acquainted with a Poet, who had turned Printer for the Sake of Printing his own Verses.
Before taking his place at table, D'Artagnan acquired, as was his custom, all the information he could; but it is an axiom of curiosity, that every man who wishes to question well and fruitfully ought in the first place to lay himself open to questions. D'Artagnan sought, then, with his usual skill, a promising questioner in the hostelry of La Roche-Bernard.
At the moment, there were in the house, on the first story, two travelers either preparing for supper, or at supper itself. D'Artagnan had seen their nags in the stable, and their equipages in the _salle_. One traveled with a lackey, undoubtedly a person of consideration; - two Perche mares, sleek, sound beasts, were suitable means of locomotion.
The other, a little fellow, a traveler of meagre appearance, wearing a dusty surtout, dirty linen, and boots more worn by the pavement than the stirrup, had come from Nantes with a cart drawn by a horse so like Furet in color, that D'Artagnan might have gone a hundred miles without finding a better match. This cart contained divers large packets wrapped in pieces of old stuff.
"That traveler yonder," said D'Artagnan to himself, "is the man for my money. He will do, he suits me; I ought to do for him and suit him; M.
Agnan, with the gray doublet and the rusty _calotte_, is not unworthy of supping with the gentleman of the old boots and still older horse."
This said, D'Artagnan called the host, and desired him to send his teal, _tourteau_, and cider up to the chamber of the gentleman of modest exterior. He himself climbed, a plate in his hand, the wooden staircase which led to the chamber, and began to knock at the door.
"Come in!" said the unknown. D'Artagnan entered, with a simper on his lips, his plate under his arm, his hat in one hand, his candle in the other.
"Excuse me, monsieur," said he, "I am as you are, a traveler; I know no one in the hotel, and I have the bad habit of losing my spirits when I eat alone; so that my repast appears a bad one to me, and does not nourish me. Your face, which I saw just now, when you came down to have some oysters opened, - your face pleased me much. Besides, I have observed you have a horse just like mine, and that the host, no doubt on account of that resemblance, has placed them side by side in the stable, where they appear to agree amazingly well together. I therefore, monsieur, do not see any reason why the masters should be separated when the horses are united. Accordingly, I am come to request the pleasure of being admitted to your table. My name is Agnan, at your service, monsieur, the unworthy steward of a rich seigneur, who wishes to purchase some salt-mines in this country, and sends me to examine his future acquisitions. In truth, monsieur, I should be well pleased if my countenance were as agreeable to you as yours is to me; for, upon my honor, I am quite at your service."
The stranger, whom D'Artagnan saw for the first time, - for before he had only caught a glimpse of him, - the stranger had black and brilliant eyes, a yellow complexion, a brow a little wrinkled by the weight of fifty years, _bonhomie_ in his features collectively, but some cunning in his look.
"One would say," thought D'Artagnan, "that this merry fellow has never exercised more than the upper part of his head, his eyes, and his brain.
He must be a man of science: his mouth, nose, and chin signify absolutely nothing."
"Monsieur," replied the latter, with whose mind and person we have been making so free, "you do me much honor; not that I am ever _ennuye_, for I have," added he, smiling, "a company which amuses me always: but, never mind that, I am happy to receive you." But when saying this, the man with the worn boots cast an uneasy look at his table, from which the oysters had disappeared, and upon which there was nothing left but a morsel of salt bacon.
"Monsieur," D'Artagnan hastened to say, "the host is bringing me up a pretty piece of roasted poultry and a superb _tourteau_." D'Artagnan had read in the look of his companion, however rapidly it disappeared, the fear of an attack by a parasite: he divined justly. At this opening, the features of the man of modest exterior relaxed; and, as if he had watched the moment for his entrance, as D'Artagnan spoke, the host appeared, bearing the announced dishes. The _tourteau_ and the teal were added to the morsel of broiled bacon; D'Artagnan and his guest bowed, sat down opposite to each other, and, like two brothers, shared the bacon and the other dishes.
"Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "you must confess that association is a wonderful thing."
"How so?" replied the stranger, with his mouth full.
"Well, I will tell you," replied D'Artagnan.
The stranger gave a short truce to the movement of his jaws, in order to hear the better.
"In the first place," continued D'Artagnan, "instead of one candle, which each of us had, we have two."
"That is true!" said the stranger, struck with the extreme lucidity of the observation.
"Then I see that you eat my _tourteau_ in preference, whilst I, in preference, eat your bacon."
"That is true again."
"And then, in addition to being better lighted and eating what we prefer, I place the pleasure of your company."
"Truly, monsieur, you are very jovial," said the unknown, cheerfully.
"Yes, monsieur; jovial, as all people are who carry nothing on their minds, or, for that matter, in their heads. Oh! I can see it is quite another sort of thing with you," continued D'Artagnan; "I can read in your eyes all sorts of genius."
"Oh, monsieur!"
"Come, confess one thing."
"What is that?"
"That you are a learned man."
"_Ma foi!_ monsieur."
"_Hein?"
"Almost."
"Come, then!"
"I am an author."
"There!" cried D'Artagnan, clapping his hands, "I knew I could not be deceived! It is a miracle!"
"Monsieur - "
"What, shall I have the honor of passing the evening in the society of an author, of a celebrated author, perhaps?"