“You have horses here, then?”
“I have five.”
“You had them sent from Pierrefonds, I suppose?”
“No, M. Fouquet gave them to me.”
“My dear Porthos, we shall not want five horses for two persons; besides, I have already three in Paris, which would make eight, and that will be too many.”
“It would not be too many if I had some of my servants here; but, alas! I have not got them.”
“Do you regret them, then?”
“I regret Mousqueton; I miss Mousqueton.”
“What a good-hearted fellow you are, Porthos,” said D’Artagnan; “but the best thing you can do is to leave your horses here, as you have left Mousqueton out yonder.”
“Why so?”