your hand, to observe any spot whatever, or an enemy’s
position?”
At this word D’Artagnan started.
“Do you,” continued the king, “imagine yourself to be a
spy?”
“No, no,” said D’Artagnan, but pensively; “the thing changes
its face when one observes an enemy; one is but a soldier.
And if they are fortifying Belle-Isle?” added he, quickly.
“You will take an exact plan of the fortifications.”
“Will they permit me to enter?”
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“That does not concern me; that is your affair. Did you not
understand that I reserved for you a supplement of twenty
thousand livres per annum, if you wished it?”
“Yes, sire; but if they are not fortifying?”
“You will return quietly, without fatiguing your horse.”
“Sire, I am ready.”
“You will begin to-morrow by going to monsieur le
surintendant’s to take the first quarter of the pension I
give you. Do you know M. Fouquet?”
“Very little, sire; but I beg your majesty to observe that I
don’t think it immediately necessary that I should know
him.”
“Your pardon, monsieur; for he will refuse you the money I
wish you to take; and it is that refusal I look for.”
“Ah!” said D’Artagnan. “Then, sire?”
“The money being refused, you will go and seek it at M.
Colbert’s. A propos, have you a good horse?”
“An excellent one, sire.”
“How much did it cost you?”
“A hundred and fifty pistoles.”
“I will buy it of you. Here is a note for two hundred
pistoles.”
“But I want my horse for my journey, sire.”
“Well!”
“Well, and you take mine from me.”
“Not at all. On the contrary, I give it you. Only as it is
now mine and not yours, I am sure you will not spare it.”
“Your majesty is in a hurry, then?”
“A great hurry.”
“Then what compels me to wait two days?”
“Reasons known to myself.”
“That’s a different affair. The horse may make up the two
days, in the eight he has to travel; and then there is the
post.”
“No, no, the post compromises, Monsieur d’Artagnan. Begone
and do not forget you are my servant.”
“Sire, it is not my duty to forget it! At what hour
to-morrow shall I take my leave of your majesty?”
“Where do you lodge?”
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“I must henceforward lodge at the Louvre.”
“That must not be now — keep your lodgings in the city: I
will pay for them. As to your departure, it must take place
at night; you must set out without being seen by any one,
or, if you are seen, it must not be known that you belong to
me. Keep your mouth shut, monsieur.”
“Your majesty spoils all you have said by that single word.”
“I asked you where you lodged, for I cannot always send to
M. le Comte de la Fere to seek you.”
“I lodge with M. Planchet, a grocer, Rue des Lombards, at
the sign of the Pilon d’Or.”
“Go out but little, show yourself less, and await my
orders.”
“And yet, sire, I must go for the money.”
“That is true, but when going to the superintendence, where
so many people are constantly going, you must mingle with
the crowd.”
“I want the notes, sire, for the money.”
“Here they are.” The king signed them, and D’Artagnan looked
on, to assure himself of their regularity.
“Adieu! Monsieur d’Artagnan,” added the king; “I think you
have perfectly understood me.”
“I? I understand that your majesty sends me to
Belle-Isle-en-Mer, that is all.”
“To learn?”
“To learn how M. Fouquet’s works are going on; that is all.”
“Very well: I admit you may be taken.”
“And I do not admit it,” replied the Gascon, boldly.
“I admit you may be killed,” continued the king.
“That is not probable, sire.”
“In the first case, you must not speak; in the second there
must be no papers found upon you.”
D’Artagnan shrugged his shoulders without ceremony, and took
leave of the king, saying to himself: — “The English shower
continues — let us remain under the spout!”
CHAPTER 54
The Houses of M. Fouquet
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