Chapter 14 - Page 2

that the true King of France is not Louis XIV.”

“What!” said Aramis, involuntarily, looking at the musketeer full in the eyes.

“No; it is M. Fouquet.”

Aramis breathed again, and smiled. “Ah! you are like all the rest,- jealous,” he said. “I would wager that it was M. Colbert who turned that pretty phrase.”

D’Artagnan, in order to throw Aramis off his guard, related Colbert’s misadventures with regard to the vin de Melun.

“He comes of a mean race, does Colbert,” said Aramis.

“Quite true.”

“When I think, too,” added the bishop, “that that fellow will be your minister within four months, and that you will serve him as blindly as you did Richelieu or Mazarin-”

“And as you serve M. Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan.

“With this difference, though, that M. Fouquet is not M. Colbert.”

“True, true,” said d’Artagnan, as he pretended to become sad and full of reflection; and then, a moment after, he added, “Why do you tell me that M. Colbert will be minister in four months?”

“Because M. Fouquet will have ceased to be so,” replied Aramis.

“He will be ruined, you mean?” said d’Artagnan.

“Completely so.”

“Why does he give these fetes, then?” said the musketeer, in a tone so full of thoughtful consideration, so natural, that the bishop was for the moment deceived by it. “Why did you not dissuade him from it?”

The latter part of the sentence was just a little too much, and Aramis’s former suspicions were again aroused. “It is done with the object of humoring the King.”

“By ruining himself?”

“Yes, by ruining himself for the King.”

“A singular calculation that!”

“Necessity.”

“I don’t see that, dear Aramis.”

“Do you not? Have you not remarked M. Colbert’s daily increasing antagonism, and that he is doing his utmost to drive the King to get rid of the superintendent?”

“One must be blind not to see it.”

“And that a cabal is formed against M. Fouquet?”

“That is well known.”

“What likelihood is there that the King would join a party formed against a man who will have spent everything he had to please him?”

“True, true,” said d’Artagnan slowly, hardly convinced, yet curious- to broach another phase of the conversation. “There are follies and follies,” he resumed; “and I do not like those you are