Scripture: `vanity, all is vanity.'”
Athos could not help laughing at this whimsical outbreak of
his friend.
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“My dear D’Artagnan,” said he, pressing his hand
affectionately, “should you not exercise a little more
philosophy? Is it not some further satisfaction to you to
have saved my life as you did by arriving so fortunately
with Monk, when those damned parliamentarians wanted to burn
me alive?”
“Well, but you, in some degree, deserved a little burning,
my friend.”
“How so? What, for having saved King Charles’s million?”
“What million?”
“Ah, that is true! you never knew that, my friend; but you
must not be angry, for it was not my secret. That word
`Remember’ which the king pronounced upon the scaffold.”
“And which means `souviens-toi!'”
“Exactly. That was signified. `Remember there is a million
buried in the vaults of Newcastle Abbey, and that that
million belongs to my son.'”
“Ah! very well, I understand. But what I understand
likewise, and what is very frightful, is, that every time
his majesty Charles II. will think of me, he will say to
himself: `There is the man who came very near making me lose
my crown. Fortunately I was generous, great, full of
presence of mind.’ That will be said by the young gentleman
in a shabby black doublet, who came to the chateau of Blois,
hat in hand, to ask me if I would give him access to the
king of France.”
“D’Artagnan! D’Artagnan!” said Athos, laying his hand on the
shoulder of the musketeer, “you are unjust.”
“I have a right to be so.”
“No — for you are ignorant of the future.”
D’Artagnan looked his friend full in the face, and began to
laugh. “In truth, my dear Athos,” said he, “you have some
sayings so superb, that they only belong to you and M. le
Cardinal Mazarin.”
Athos frowned slightly.
“I beg your pardon,” continued D’Artagnan, laughing, “I beg
your pardon, if I have offended you. The future! Nein! what
pretty words are words that promise, and how well they fill
the mouth in default of other things! Mordioux! After having
met with so many who promised, when shall I find one who
will give? But, let that pass!” continued D’Artagnan. “What
are you doing here, my dear Athos? Are you the king’s
treasurer?”
“How — why the king’s treasurer?”
“Well, since the king possesses a million, he must want a
treasurer. The king of France, although he is not worth a
sou, has still a superintendent of finance, M. Fouquet. It
is true that, in exchange, M. Fouquet, they say, has a good
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
number of millions of his own.”
“Oh! our million was spent long ago,” said Athos, laughing
in his turn.
“I understand, it was frittered away in satin, precious
stones, velvet, and feathers of all sorts and colors. All
these princes and princesses stood in great need of tailors
and dressmakers. Eh! Athos, do you remember what we fellows
spent in equipping ourselves for the campaign of La
Rochelle, and to make our appearance on horseback? Two or
three thousand livres, by my faith! But a king’s robe is
more ample; it would require a million to purchase the
stuff. At least, Athos, if you are not treasurer, you are on
a good footing at court.”
“By the faith of a gentleman, I know nothing about it,” said
Athos, simply.
“What! you know nothing about it?”
“No! I have not seen the king since we left Dover.”
“Then he has forgotten you, too! Mordioux! That is
shameful!”
“His majesty has had so much business to transact.”
“Oh!” cried D’Artagnan, with one of those intelligent
grimaces which he alone knew how to make, “that is enough to
make me recover my love for Monseigneur Giulio Mazarini.
What, Athos the king has not seen you since then?”
“No.”
“And you are not furious?”
“I! Why should I be? Do you imagine, my dear D’Artagnan,
that it was on the king’s account I acted as I have done? I
did not know the young man. I defended the father, who
represented a principle — sacred in my eyes, and I allowed
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