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Rh day of your death, without being obliged to see the nose of a single tailor from now till then."

Porthos shook his head.

"Come, my friend, said D'Artagnan, "this unnatural melancholy in you frightens me. My dear Porthos, pray get out of it then. And the sooner the better."

"Yes, my friend, so I will; if, indeed, it is possible."

"Perhaps you have received bad news from Bracieui?"

"No; they have felled the wood, and it has yielded a third more than the estimate."

"Then has there been a falling off in the pools of Pierre-fonds?"

"No, my friend; they have been fished, and there is enough left to stock all the pools in the neighborhood."

"Perhaps your estate at Vallon has been destroyed by an earthquake?"

"No, my friend; on the contrary, the ground was struck with lightning a hundred paces from the cháteau, and a fountain sprung up in a place entirely destitute of water."

"What in the world is the matter, then?"

"The fact is, I have received an invitation for the fete at Vaux," said Porthos, with a lugubrious expression.

"Well, do you complain of that? The king has caused a hundred mortal heart-burnings among the courtiers by refusing invitations. And so, my dear friend, you are really going to Vaux?"

"Indeed I am!"

"You will see a magnificent sight."

"Alas! I doubt it, though."

"Everything that is grand in France will be brought together there."

"Ah!" cried Porthos, tearing out a lock of his hair in despair.

"Eh! good heavens, are you ill?" cried D'Artagnan.

"I am as well as the Pont-Neuf. It isn't that."

"But what is it, then?"

"'Tis that I have no clothes."

D'Artagnan stood petrified.

"No clothes! Porthos, no clothes!" he cried, "when I see at least fifty suits on the floor."

"Fifty, truly; but not one which fits me."

"What, not one that fits you? But are you not measured, then, when you give an order?"

"To be sure he is," answered Mouston; "but, unfortunately, I have grown stouter!"