The Man in the Iron Mask
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Dumas Alexandre. The Man in the Iron Mask
Chapter I. The Prisoner
Chapter II. How Mouston Had Become Fatter without Giving Porthos Notice Thereof, and of the Troubles Which Consequently Befell that Worthy Gentleman
Chapter III. Who Messire Jean Percerin Was
Chapter IV. The Patterns
Chapter V. Where, Probably, Moliere Obtained His First Idea of the Bourgeois Gentilhomme
Chapter VI. The Bee-Hive, the Bees, and the Honey
Chapter VII. Another Supper at the Bastile
Chapter VIII. The General of the Order
Chapter IX. The Tempter
Chapter X. Crown and Tiara
Chapter XI. The Chateau de Vaux-le-Vicomte
Chapter XII. The Wine of Melun
Chapter XIII. Nectar and Ambrosia
Chapter XIV. A Gascon, and a Gascon and a Half
Chapter XV. Colbert
Chapter XVI. Jealousy
Chapter XVII. High Treason
Chapter XVIII. A Night at the Bastile
Chapter XIX. The Shadow of M. Fouquet
Chapter XX. The Morning
Chapter XXI. The King’s Friend
Chapter XXII. Showing How the Countersign Was Respected at the Bastile
Chapter XXIII. The King’s Gratitude
Chapter XXIV. The False King
Chapter XXV. In Which Porthos Thinks He Is Pursuing a Duchy
Chapter XXVI. The Last Adieux
Chapter XXVII. Monsieur de Beaufort
Chapter XXVIII. Preparations for Departure
Chapter XXIX. Planchet’s Inventory
Chapter XXX. The Inventory of M. de Beaufort
Chapter XXXI. The Silver Dish
Chapter XXXII. Captive and Jailers
Chapter XXXIII. Promises
Chapter XXXIV. Among Women
Chapter XXXV. The Last Supper
Chapter XXXVI. In M. Colbert’s Carriage
Chapter XXXVII. The Two Lighters
Chapter XXXVIII. Friendly Advice
Chapter XXXIX. How the King, Louis XIV., Played His Little Part
Chapter XL: The White Horse and the Black
Chapter XLI. In Which the Squirrel Falls, – the Adder Flies
Chapter XLII. Belle-Ile-en-Mer
Chapter XLIII. Explanations by Aramis
Chapter XLIV. Result of the Ideas of the King, and the Ideas of D’Artagnan
Chapter XLV. The Ancestors of Porthos
Chapter XLVI. The Son of Biscarrat
Chapter XLVII. The Grotto of Locmaria
Chapter XLVIII. The Grotto
Chapter XLIX. An Homeric Song
Chapter L: The Death of a Titan
Chapter LI. Porthos’s Epitaph
Chapter LII. M. de Gesvres’s Round
Chapter LIII. King Louis XIV
Chapter LIV. M. Fouquet’s Friends
Chapter LV. Porthos’s Will
Chapter LVI. The Old Age of Athos
Chapter LVII. Athos’s Vision
Chapter LVIII. The Angel of Death
Chapter LIX. The Bulletin
Chapter LX. The Last Canto of the Poem
Epilogue
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Since the departure of Athos for Blois, Porthos and D’Artagnan were seldom together. One was occupied with harassing duties for the king, the other had been making many purchases of furniture which he intended to forward to his estate, and by aid of which he hoped to establish in his various residences something of the courtly luxury he had witnessed in all its dazzling brightness in his majesty’s society. D’Artagnan, ever faithful, one morning during an interval of service thought about Porthos, and being uneasy at not having heard anything of him for a fortnight, directed his steps towards his hotel, and pounced upon him just as he was getting up. The worthy baron had a pensive – nay, more than pensive – melancholy air. He was sitting on his bed, only half-dressed, and with legs dangling over the edge, contemplating a host of garments, which with their fringes, lace, embroidery, and slashes of ill-assorted hues, were strewed all over the floor. Porthos, sad and reflective as La Fontaine’s hare, did not observe D’Artagnan’s entrance, which was, moreover, screened at this moment by M. Mouston, whose personal corpulency, quite enough at any time to hide one man from another, was effectually doubled by a scarlet coat which the intendant was holding up for his master’s inspection, by the sleeves, that he might the better see it all over. D’Artagnan stopped at the threshold and looked in at the pensive Porthos and then, as the sight of the innumerable garments strewing the floor caused mighty sighs to heave the bosom of that excellent gentleman, D’Artagnan thought it time to put an end to these dismal reflections, and coughed by way of announcing himself.
“Ah!” exclaimed Porthos, whose countenance brightened with joy; “ah! ah! Here is D’Artagnan. I shall then get hold of an idea!”
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“And this to such an extent, monsieur,” continued Porthos, “that the fellow in two years has gained eighteen inches in girth, and so my last dozen coats are all too large, from a foot to a foot and a half.”
“But the rest; those which were made when you were of the same size?”
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