Porthos had all the taste and pride of a landed proprietor.

When D'Artagnan saw his two companions in earnest conversation, he took the opposite side of the road, and letting his bridle drop upon his horse's neck, separated himself from the whole world, as he had done from Porthos and from Planchet.

The moon shone softly through the foliage of the forest.

The breezes of the open country rose deliciously perfumed to the horse's nostrils, and they snorted and pranced along delightedly.

Porthos and Planchet began to talk about hay-crops.