Chapter 2 Three Friends and a Tailor D'Artagnan was worried about Portos.
The musketeer hadn't heard from his friend in weeks, so he decided to pay him a visit.
When he arrived, he found Portos sitting on the edge of his bed.
He was looking sadly at a pile of suits that were strewn across the floor in a mess of fringes braids, fancy embroideries and clashing colors.
Ah, Porto said when he saw D'Artagnan.
It's you?
You'll give me an idea.
Porto stood with some difficulty, his old knees cracking, and crossed the room to hug D'Artagnan with an affection that seemed to renew his strength.
You are always welcome, my dear friend, Porto said.
But today you're more welcome than ever.
Are you down in the dumps?
D'Artagnan asked.
I received an invitation to the celebration Mr. Fouquet is throwing at Vaux, Porthos replied.
But the king said that only his closest friends will be at the party, D'Artagnan said.
You've been invited?
Congratulations!
What could possibly have you so sad?
I've nothing to wear, Porthos said, and sighed.
D'Artagnan was dumbfounded.
Why, you've got over fifty suits on the floor, he said.
Fifty, yes, and not a single one fits me, Portos replied.
How is that possible?
D'Artagnan asked.
Mousqueton, Portos' assistant, cleared his throat.
He had been waiting at the door.
Unfortunately, I have gained weight, Mousqueton said.
Why should your waistline affect the fit of Porthos' suits?
D'Artagnan asked.
Let me explain, Porthos answered.
I hate getting measured.
It's too personal, standing there while a stranger pokes and prods and pushes you around.
Years ago I noticed that Mousqueton was my size, so I sent him to be measured for suits in my place.
Our system worked quite well until Mousqueton's easy life here began to get the better of him.
As you know, I tried to keep myself dressed in the most fashionable suits, and I never keep my old ones.
Well, by the time Mousqueton was measured for this recent batch of suits, he had grown fatter than I am and now none of my suits fit and I don't have any of my old ones left.
I suppose Mousqueton will enjoy his gift of fifty new and quite fashionable suits, D'Artagnan said smiling.
Very funny, Porthos said, but I'm still at a loss.
I only received my invitation yesterday and there's no good tailor who can make me a proper suit in time for the party the day after tomorrow.
And Eramis told me to arrive a day early.
Heaven knows why.
Aramis?
He's the one who invited me, Portos said.
Ah, when I think that I have no suit for the party, I want to smash something.
Don't smash anything, my powerful friend, D'Artagnan replied.
Have you tried the tailor, Mr. Perseran?
Who is he?
Why, he's the king's own tailor, you fool, D'Artagnan said.
He's probably busy, but I'm sure he'll do this for me.
The king gets measured, too, Porthos asked.
He likes to look stylish, just like you, D'Artagnan said and laughed.
Mr. Percerant was close to eighty years old and lived in a grand mansion.
When D'Artagnan and Porthos arrived, they saw hundreds of people gathered out front waiting for their time with Taylor.
D'Artagnan approached the guards and said I'm here on the king's business, and they allowed him and Porthos to enter immediately.
The old man was working in his studio, draping some gold-colored fabric over a dressmaker's dummy.
Catching sight of D'Artagnan, he approached him, not happy but still polite.
Mr. D'Artagnan, said Percerin, please excuse me, but I'm very busy.
Yes, I know, you're working on suits for the king to wear at Vaux.
I'm sure they'll be the most beautiful in the world, d'Artagnan said.
Five suits, and they will be beautiful, but first they must be made, Perseran said.
Bah, you still have two days.
Look here, I've brought you a new client, said D'Artagnan.
My friend Porthos is a close friend of Mr Fouquet, the man who owns the castle at Vaux where the grand celebration is to be held.
The suit you make for Porthos is to be worn at that very same party.
Ah, I see, said the tailor.
I would like to make you a suit, sir, but there simply isn't enough time.
Then a new voice spoke up from the doorway.
Don't say that, sir, especially when I'm the one asking you.
At the sound of that gentle voice, D'Artagnan turned.
It was Eramis.
Hello, dear friends, Eramis said.
Come, Mr Perseran, make this suit for my friend Borthos, and I guarantee you will also please, Mr Fouquet.
Eremus had even more influence on Mr Perseran than D'Artagnan did, for the tailor merely nodded, turned to Portos and said Get your measurements taken.
On the other side of the room.
Portos left, feeling enormously pleased and important, and D'Artagnan went to talk with Eremus.
If you're as free as I am, Eremus, perhaps we can talk and catch up, D'Artagnan said.
No, I wanted—
You have something private to say to Mr. Perserent?
D'Artagnan asked.
Yes, but not private from you, Eremus said.
Eremus was working on his plan to free the king's twin brother, and he did not want to arouse his friend's suspicions by keeping secrets.
Mr Fouquet and I have hired a painter to create a portrait of the king, but we want to show the king wearing one of the new suits Mr Perserent is making for him.
But only I know how the suits will look, or even which fabrics I will use, said Perserent.
That is precisely what I am asking you to reveal to me, Eremus said.
The tailor was so surprised by this request that he could only giggle at first.
It may seem like an odd thing to ask, Eramis said, but I have no choice.
You see, Mr. Fouquet wants to give the king the greatest surprise possible.
A wonderful portrait is one thing, but to show one of the new suits in the portrait before the king has even seen it himself, that will show a level of thought and planning that is sure to please his highness.
I have no intention of forcing you to show me the suits you're making, but Mr Fouquet did say that if he could not have the portrait done as he wants, he would be forced to tell the king how you spoiled his gift.
I wouldn't ever interfere with Mr. Fouquet's wish to please the king, Perseran said, stammering.
He took out several partially constructed suits from a side room and told Eramis to call in the painter.
Then the tailor described how they would look when completed.
When no one was watching, Eremus slipped sample of the fabric into his pocket.
