“Certainly I shall.”
“Then your Majesty will doubtless want the Musketeers?” And the eye of the King sank beneath the penetrating glance of the captain.
“Take a brigade of them,” replied Louis.
“Is that all? Has your Majesty no other orders to give me?”
“No- ah- yes.”
“I am all attention, Sire.”
“At the Castle of Nantes, which I hear is very ill arranged, you will adopt the practice of placing musketeers at the door of each of the principal dignitaries I shall take with me.”
“Of the principal?”
“Yes.”
“For instance, at the door of M. de Lyonne?”
“Yes.”
“At that of M. Letellier?”
“Yes.”
“Of M. de Brienne?”
“Yes.”
“And of Monsieur the Superintendent?”
“Without doubt.”
“Very well, Sire. By to-morrow I shall have set out.”
“Oh, one word more, M. d’Artagnan. At Nantes you will meet with M. le Duc de Gesvres, captain of the Guards. Be sure that your Musketeers are placed before his Guards arrive. Precedence always belongs to the first comer.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“And if M. de Gesvres should question you?”
“Question me, Sire! Is it likely that M. de Gesvres would question me?” And the musketeer, turning cavalierly on his heel, disappeared. “To Nantes!” said he to himself, as he descended the stairs. “Why did he not dare to say at once to Belle-Isle?”
As he reached the great gates, one of M. de Brienne’s clerks came running after him, exclaiming, “M. d’Artagnan, I beg your pardon-”
“What is the matter, M. Ariste?”
“The King has desired me to give you this order.”
“Upon your cash-box?” asked the musketeer.
“No, Monsieur; upon that of M. Fouquet.”
D’Artagnan was surprised; but he took the order, which was in the King’s own writing, and was for two hundred pistoles. “What!” thought he, after having politely thanked M. de Brienne’s clerk, “M. Fouquet is to pay for the journey, then! Mordioux! that is a bit of pure Louis XI! Why was not this order upon the chest of M. Colbert? He would have paid it with such joy.” And d’Artagnan, faithful to his principle of never letting an order at sight get cold, went straight to the house of M. Fouquet, to receive his two hundred pistoles.
Chapter LXIII: The Last Supper
THE superintendent had no doubt received notice of the approaching departure, for he was giving a farewell dinner to his friends. From the bottom to the top of the house, the hurry of the servants bearing dishes, and the diligence of the registres, denoted an approaching change in both offices and kitchen. D’Artagnan, with his order in his hand, presented himself at the offices, when he was told it was too late to pay cash,- the chest was closed. He only replied, “On the King’s service.”
The clerk, a little put out by the serious air of the captain, replied that that was a very respectable reason, but that the customs of the house were respectable likewise; and that in consequence he begged the bearer to call again next day. D’Artagnan asked if he could not see M. Fouquet. The clerk replied that Monsieur the Superintendent did not interfere with such details, and rudely closed the door in d’Artagnan’s face. But the latter had foreseen this stroke, and placed his boot between the door and the door case, so that the lock did not catch, and the clerk was still face to face with his interlocutor. This made him change his tone, and say with terrified politeness, “If Monsieur wishes to speak to Monsieur the Superintendent, he must go to the antechambers; these are the offices where Monseigneur never comes.”
“Oh, very well! Where are they?” replied the captain.
“On the other side of the court,” said the clerk, delighted at being free.
D’Artagnan crossed the court, and fell in with a crowd of servants.
“Monseigneur sees nobody at this hour,” he was answered by a fellow carrying a vermeil dish, in which were three pheasants and twelve quails.
“Tell him,” said the captain, stopping the servant by laying hold of his dish, “that I am M. d’Artagnan, captain of his Majesty’s Musketeers.”
The fellow uttered a cry of surprise and disappeared, d’Artagnan following him slowly. He arrived just in time to meet M. Pelisson in the antechamber; the latter, a little pale, came hastily out of the dining-room to learn what was the matter. D’Artagnan smiled.