D'Artagnan raised the poor intendant, embraced him as if he had been a brother, and, having nobly saluted the assembly, who all bowed as they whispered to each other his name, he went and took his seat at the extremity of the great carved oak hall, still holding by the hand poor Mousqueton, who was suffocating with excess of woe, and sank upon the steps.

Then the procureur, who, like the rest, was considerably agitated, commenced.
Porthos, after a profession of faith of the most Christian character, asked pardon of his enemies for all the injuries he might have done them.

At this paragraph, a ray of inexpressible pride beamed from the eyes of D'Artagnan.
He recalled to his mind the old soldier; all those enemies of Porthos brought to earth by his valiant hand; he reckoned up the numbers of them, and said to himself that Porthos had acted wisely, not to enumerate his enemies or the injuries done to them, or the task would have been too much for the reader.

Then came the following schedule of his extensive lands: "I possess at this present time, by the grace of God-- "1.

The domain of Pierrefonds, lands, woods, meadows, waters, and forests, surrounded by good walls.
"2.