nk was going into the ante-chamber as others did.
D'Artagnan could not help remarking this to the Comte de la Fere,
who frowned on beholding it. Suddenly the door of the royal apartment
opened, and the young king appeared, preceded by two officers of his
household.

"Good evening, gentlemen," said he. "Is General Monk here?"

"I am here, sire," replied the old general.

Charles stepped hastily towards him, and seized his hand with the
warmest demonstration of friendship. "General," said the king, aloud,
"I have just signed your patent,--you are Duke of Albemarle; and my
intention is that no one shall equal you in power and fortune in this
kingdom, where--the noble Montrose excepted--no one has equaled you in
loyalty, courage, and talent. Gentlemen, the duke is commander of our
armies of land and sea; pay him your respects, if you please, in that
character."

Whilst every one was pressing round the general, who received all this
homage without losing his impassibility for an instant, D'Artagnan said
to Athos: "When one thinks that this duchy, this commander of the land
and sea forces, all these grandeurs, in a word, have been shut up in a
box six feet long and three feet wide----"

"My friend," replied Athos, "much more imposing grandeurs are confined
in boxes still smaller,--and remain there forever."

All at once Monk perceived the two gentlemen, who held themselves aside
until the crowd had diminished; he made himself a passage towards
them, so that he surprised them in the midst of their philosophical
reflections. "Were you speaking of me?" said he, with a smile.

"My lord," replied Athos, "we were speaking likewise of God."

Monk reflected for a moment, and then replied gayly: "Gentlemen, let
us speak a little of the king likewise, if you please; for you have, I
believe, an audience of his majesty."

"At nine o'clock," said Athos.

"At ten o'clock," said D'Artagnan.

"Let us go into this closet at once," replied Monk, making a sign to his
two companions to precede him; but to that neither would consent.

The king, during this discussion so characteristic of the French, had
returned to the center of the gallery.

"Oh! my Frenchmen!" said he, in that tone of careless gayety which,
in spite of so much grief and so many crosses, he had never lost. "My
Frenchmen! my consolation!" Athos and D'Artagnan bowed.

"Duke, conduct these gentlemen into my study. I am at your service,
messieurs," added he in Frenc