Porthos opened his large eyes, which eloquently demanded of the musketeer, “Where the devil did you steal such a sum as that, my dear friend?” “Two hundred thousand livres!” cried he, at length.
“Yes; which, with the twenty-five I had, and twenty thousand I have about me, complete the sum of two hundred and forty-five thousand livres.”
“But tell me, whence comes this fortune?”
“I will tell you all about it presently, dear friend; but as you have, in the first place, many things to tell me yourself, let us have my recital in its proper order.”
“Bravo!” said Porthos, “then we are both rich. But what can I have to relate to you?”
“You have to relate to me how Aramis came to be named——”
“Ah! bishop of Vannes.”
“That’s it,” said D’Artagnan, “bishop of Vannes. Dear Aramis! do you know how he succeeded so well?”
“Yes, yes; without reckoning that he does not mean to stop there.”
“What! do you mean he will not be contented with violet stockings, and that he wants a red hat?”