“What do you mean by ‘the pure parliament’? Are there, then, two parliaments?”
“My friend,” D’Artagnan interrupted, “as I don’t understand English and we all understand Spanish, have the kindness to speak to us in that language, which, since it is your own, you must find pleasure in using when you have the chance.”
“Ah! excellent!” said Aramis.
As to Porthos, all his attention was concentrated on the allurements of the breakfast table.
“You were asking, then?” said the host in Spanish.
“I asked,” said Athos, in the same language, “if there are two parliaments, a pure and an impure?”
“Why, how extraordinary!” said Porthos, slowly raising his head and looking at his friends with an air of astonishment, “I understand English, then! I understand what you say!”
“That is because we are talking Spanish, my dear friend,” said Athos.
“Oh, the devil!” said Porthos, “I am sorry for that; it would have been one language more.”
“When I speak of the pure parliament,” resumed the host, “I mean the one which Colonel Bridge has weeded.”