"You only landed yesterday and you have begun your tricks already." "How so, monsieur le baron ?" asked Jupenet, trembling.
"Your press was groaning all night, monsieur," said Porthos, "and you prevented my sleeping, _corne de boeuf!_" "Monsieur--" objected Jupenet, timidly.
"You have nothing yet to print: therefore you have no occasion to set your press going.

What did you print last night ?" "Monsieur, a light poem of my own composition." "Light! no, no, monsieur; the press groaned pitifully beneath it.

Let it not happen again.

Do you understand ?" "Yes, monsieur." "You promise me ?" "I do, monsieur!" "Very well; this time I pardon you.

Adieu!" The poet retreated as humbly as he had approached.
"Well, now we have combed that fellow's head, let us breakfast." "Yes," replied D'Artagnan, "let us breakfast." "Only," said Porthos, "I beg you to observe, my friend, that we only have two hours for our repast." "What would you have?
We will try to make two hours suffice.