Chapter 38

Chapter XXXVIII
Friendly Advice
Fouquet had gone to bed, like a man who clings to life, and who economizes as much as possible that slender tissue of existence of which the shocks and angles of this world so quickly wear out the irreparable tenuity. D’Artagnan appeared at the door of the chamber, and was saluted by the superintendent with a very affable “Good-day.”

“Good-day, Monseigneur,” replied the musketeer; “how did you get through the journey?”

“Tolerably well, thank you.”

“And the fever?”

“But sadly. I drink as you see. I am scarcely arrived, and I have already levied a contribution of tisane upon Nantes.”

“You should sleep first, Monseigneur.”

“Eh, corbleu! my dear M. d’Artagnan, I should be very glad to sleep.”

“Who hinders you?”

“Why, you, in the first place.”

“I? Ah, Monseigneur!”

“No doubt you do. Is it at Nantes as it was at Paris; do you not come in the King’s name?”

“For Heaven’s sake, Monseigneur,” replied the captain, “leave the King alone! The day on which I shall come on the part of the King for the purpose you mean, take my word for it, I will not leave you long in doubt. You will see me place my hand on my sword, according to the ordonnance, and you will hear me say at once in my ceremonial voice, ‘Monseigneur, in the name of the King, I arrest you!’”

Fouquet trembled in spite of himself, the tone of the lively Gascon had been so natural and so vigorous. The representation of the fact was almost as frightful as the fact itself would be.

“You promise me that frankness?” said Fouquet.

“Upon my honor! But we are not come to that, believe me.”

“What makes you think that, M. d’Artagnan? For my part, I think quite the contrary.”

“I have heard of nothing of the kind,” replied d’Artagnan.

“Eh, eh!” said Fouquet.

“Indeed, no. You are an agreeable man, in spite of your fever. The King ought not, cannot help loving you, at the bottom of his heart.”

Fouquet’s face implied doubt. “But M. Colbert?” said he; “does M. Colbert also love me as much as you say?”

“I don’t speak of M. Colbert,” replied d’Artagnan. “He is an exceptional man, is that M. Colbert. He does not love you,- that is very possible; but, mordioux! the squirrel can guard himself against the adder with very little trouble.”

“Do you know that you are speaking to me quite as a friend?” replied Fouquet; “and that,