with the most natural air possible, "I am not an enemy of jesting, my
dear Monsieur d'Artagnan; my soldiers will tell you that even many times
in camp, I listened very indifferently, and with a certain pleasure,
to the satirical songs which the army of Lambert passed into mine,
and which, certainly, would have caused the ears of a general more
susceptible than I am to tingle."

"Oh, my lord," said D'Artagnan, "I know you are a complete man; I know
you have been, for a long time placed above human miseries; but
there are jests and jests of a certain kind, which have the power of
irritating me beyond expression."

"May I inquire what kind, my friend?"

"Such as are directed against my friends or against people I respect, my
lord!"

Monk made a slight movement, which D'Artagnan perceived. "Eh! and in
what," asked Monk, "in what can the stroke of a pin which scratches
another tickle your skin? Answer me that."

"My lord, I can explain it to you in one single sentence; it concerns
you."

Monk advanced a single step towards D'Artagnan. "Concerns me?" said he.

"Yes, and this is what I cannot explain; but that arises, perhaps, from
my want of knowledge of his character. How can the king have the
heart to jest about a man who has rendered him so many and such great
services? How can one understand that he should amuse himself in setting
by the ears a lion like you with a gnat like me?"

"I cannot conceive that in any way," said Monk.

"But so it is. The king, who owed me a reward, might have rewarded me as
a soldier, without contriving that history of the ransom, which affects
you, my lord."

"No," said Monk, laughing: "it does not affect me in any way, I can
assure you."

"Not as regards me, I can understand, you know me, my lord, I am so
discreet that the grave would appear a babbler compared to me; but--do
you understand, my lord?"

"No," replied Monk, with persistent obstinacy.

"If another knew the secret which I know----"

"What secret?"

"Eh! my lord, why, that unfortunate secret of Newcastle."

"Oh! the million of M. le Comte de la Fere?"

"No, my lord, no; the enterprise made upon you grace's person."

"It was well played, chevalier, that is all, and no more is to be said
about it: you are a soldier, both brave and cunning, which proves that
you unite the qualities of Fabius and Hannibal. You employed your means,
force and cunning: there is nothing to be said against that: I ought to
have been o