In which it is shown that if Porthos was discontented with his Condition, Mousqueton was completely satisfied with his.

As they returned toward the castle, D’Artagnan thought of the miseries of poor human nature, always dissatisfied with what it has, ever desirous of what it has not.

In the position of Porthos, D’Artagnan would have been perfectly happy; and to make Porthos contented there was wanting — what? five letters to put before his three names, a tiny coronet to paint upon the panels of his carriage!

“I shall pass all my life,” thought D’Artagnan, “in seeking for a man who is really contented with his lot.”

Whilst making this reflection, chance seemed, as it were, to give him the lie direct.