“Yes; as you see.”
“Monsieur, you have given a most charming fete to the King.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, beautiful!”
“Is the King pleased?”
“Enchanted!”
“Did he desire you to say as much to me?”
“He would not choose so unworthy a messenger, Monseigneur.”
“You do not do yourself justice, M. d’Artagnan.”
“Is that your bed there?”
“Yes; but why do you ask? Are you not satisfied with your own?”
“May I speak frankly to you?”
“Most assuredly.”
“Well, then, I am not.”
Fouquet started; and then replied, “M. d’Artagnan, take my room.”
“What! deprive you of it, Monseigneur? Never!”
“What am I to do, then?”
“Allow me to share it with you.”
Fouquet looked at the musketeer fixedly. “Ah! ah!” he said, “you have just left the King?”
“I have, Monseigneur.”
“And the King wishes you to pass the night in my room?”
“Monseigneur-”
“Very well, M. d’Artagnan, very well. You are master here.”
“I assure you, Monseigneur, that I do not wish to abuse-”
Fouquet turned to his valet, and said, “Leave us!” When the man had left, he said to d’Artagnan, “You have something to say to me?”
“I?”
“A man of your superior intelligence cannot have come to talk with a man like myself, at such an hour as the present, without grave motives.”
“Do not interrogate me.”
“On the contrary, what do you want with me?”
“Nothing more than the pleasure of your society.”
“Come into the garden, then,” said the superintendent, suddenly, “or into the park.”
“No,” replied the musketeer, hastily; “no.”
“Why?”
“The fresh air-”
“Come, admit at once that you arrest me,” said the superintendent to the captain.
“Never!” said the latter.
“You intend to look after me, then?”
“Yes, Monseigneur, I do, upon my honor.”
“Upon your honor!- ah, that is quite another thing! So I am to be arrested in my own house?”
“Do not say such a thing.”
“On the contrary, I will proclaim it aloud.”
“If you do so, I shall be compelled to persuade you to be silent.”
“Very good! Violence towards me in my own house! Ah, that is well done!”
“We do not seem to understand each other at all. Stay a moment! There is a chess-board there; we will have a game, if you have no objection.”
“M. d’Artagnan, I am in disgrace, then?”
“Not at all; but-”
“I am prohibited, I suppose, from withdrawing from your sight.”
“I do not understand a word you are saying, Monseigneur; and if you wish me to withdraw, tell me so.”
“My dear M. d’Artagnan, your mode of action is enough to drive me mad. I was almost sinking for want of sleep, but you have completely awakened me.”
“I shall never forgive myself, I am sure; and if you wish to reconcile me with myself, why, go to sleep in your bed in my presence; I shall be delighted at it.”
“I am under surveillance, I see.”
“I will leave the room, then.”
“You are beyond my comprehension.”
“Good-night, Monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan, as he pretended to withdraw.
Fouquet ran after him. “I will not lie down,” he said. “Seriously, and since you refuse to treat me as a man, and since you finesse with me, I will try to set you at bay, as a hunter does a wild boar.”
“Bah!” cried d’Artagnan, pretending to smile.
“I shall order my horses and set off for Paris,” said Fouquet, sounding the heart of the captain of the Musketeers.
“If that be the case, Monseigneur, it is very different.”
“You will arrest me?”
“No; but I shall go with you.”
“That is quite sufficient, M. d’Artagnan,” returned Fouquet, in a cold tone of voice. “It is not idly that you have acquired your reputation as a man of intelligence and full of resources; but with me that is quite superfluous. Let us two come to the point. Grant me a service. Why do you arrest me? What have I done?”
“Oh, I know nothing about what you may have done; but I do not arrest you- this evening.”
“This evening!” said Fouquet, turning pale; “but to-morrow?”
“It is not to-morrow just yet, Monseigneur. Who can ever answer for the morrow?”