sign to Gourville and the abbe, who remained in the chamber
where they were. He led D’Artagnan into his cabinet. As soon
as the door was shut, — “How much is due to you, monsieur?”
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“Why, something like five thousand livres, monseigneur.”
“For arrears of pay?”
“For a quarter’s pay.”
“A quarter consisting of five thousand livres!” said
Fouquet, fixing upon the musketeer a searching look. Does
the king, then, give you twenty thousand livres a year?”
“Yes, monseigneur, twenty thousand livres a year. Do you
think it is too much?”
“I?” cried Fouquet, and he smiled bitterly. “If I had any
knowledge of mankind, if I were — instead of being a
frivolous, inconsequent, and vain spirit — of a prudent and
reflective spirit; if, in a word, I had, as certain persons
have known how, regulated my life, you would not receive
twenty thousand livres a year, but a hundred thousand, and
you would not belong to the king, but to me.”
D’Artagnan colored slightly. There is sometimes in the
manner in which a eulogium is given, in the voice, in the
affectionate tone, a poison so sweet, that the strongest
mind is intoxicated by it. The superintendent terminated his
speech by opening a drawer, and taking from it four rouleaux
which he placed before D’Artagnan. The Gascon opened one.
“Gold!” said he.
“It will be less burdensome, monsieur.”
“But then, monsieur, these make twenty thousand livres.”
“No doubt they do.”
“But only five are due to me.”
“I wish to spare you the trouble of coming four times to my
office.”
“You overwhelm me, monsieur.”
“I do only what I ought to do, monsieur le chevalier; and I
hope you will not bear me any malice on account of the rude
reception my brother gave you. He is of a sour, capricious
disposition.”
“Monsieur,” said D’Artagnan, “believe me, nothing would
grieve me more than an excuse from you.”
“Therefore I will make no more, and will content myself with
asking you a favor.”
“Oh, monsieur.”
Fouquet drew from his finger a ring worth about a thousand
pistoles. “Monsieur,” said he, “this stone was given me by a
friend of my childhood, by a man to whom you have rendered a
great service.”
“A service — I?” said the musketeer, “I have rendered a
service to one of your friends?”
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“You cannot have forgotten it, monsieur, for it dates this
very day.”
“And that friend’s name was —- ”
“M. d’Eymeris.”
“One of the condemned?”
“Yes, one of the victims. Well! Monsieur d’Artagnan, in
return for the service you have rendered him, I beg you to
accept this diamond. Do so for my sake.”
“Monsieur! you —- ”
“Accept it, I say. To-day is with me a day of mourning;
hereafter you will, perhaps, learn why; to-day I have lost
one friend; well, I will try to get another.”
“But, Monsieur Fouquet —- ”
“Adieu! Monsieur d’Artagnan, adieu!” cried Fouquet, with
much emotion; “or rather, au revoir.” And the minister
quitted the cabinet, leaving in the hands of the musketeer
the ring and the twenty thousand livres.
“Oh!” said D’Artagnan, after a moment’s dark reflection.
“How on earth am I to understand what this means? Mordioux!
I can understand this much, only: he is a gallant man! I
will go and explain matters to M. Colbert.” And he went out.
CHAPTER 64
Of the Notable Difference D’Artagnan finds between
Monsieur the Intendant and Monsieur the Superintendent
M. Colbert resided in the Rue Neuve des Petits-Champs in a
house which had belonged to Beautru. D’Artagnan’s legs
cleared the distance in a short quarter of an hour. When he
arrived at the residence of the new favorite, the court was
full of archers and police, who came to congratulate him, or
to excuse themselves according to whether he should choose
to praise or blame. The sentiment of flattery is instinctive
with people of abject condition; they have the sense of it,
as the wild animal has that of hearing and smell. These
people, or their leader, understood that there was a
pleasure to offer to M. Colbert, in rendering him an account