"what you do not know,
monseigneur--prince of the church though you are--what nobody will
know--what only the king, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and myself do
know, is the color of the materials and nature of the ornaments, and the
cut, the _ensemble_, the finish of it all!"

"Well," said Aramis, "that is precisely what I have come to ask you,
dear Percerin."

"Ah, bah!" exclaimed the tailor, terrified, though Aramis had pronounced
these words in his sweetest and most honeyed voice. The request
appeared, on reflection, so exaggerated, so ridiculous, so monstrous to
M. Percerin that, first he laughed to himself, then aloud, and finished
with a shout. D'Artagnan followed his example, not because he found the
matter so "very funny," but in order not to allow Aramis to cool.

"At the outset, I appear to be hazarding an absurd question, do I not?"
said Aramis. "But D'Artagnan, who is incarnate wisdom itself, will tell
you that I could not do otherwise than ask you this."

"Let us see," said the attentive musketeer, perceiving with his
wonderful instinct that they had only been skirmishing till now, and
that the hour of battle was approaching.

"Let us see," said Percerin, incredulously.

"Why, now," continued Aramis, "does M. Fouquet give the king a fete?--Is
it not to please him?"

"Assuredly," said Percerin. D'Artagnan nodded assent.

"By delicate attentions? by some happy device? by a succession of
surprises, like that of which we were talking?--the enrollment of our
Epicureans."

"Admirable."

"Well, then: this is the surprise we intend. M. Lebrun here is a man who
draws most exactly."

"Yes," said Percerin; "I have seen his pictures and observed that the
dresses were highly elaborated. That is why I at once agreed to make him
a costume--whether to agree with those of the Epicureans, or an original
one."

"My dear monsieur, we accept your offer, and shall presently avail
ourselves of it; but just now, M. Lebrun is not in want of the dresses
you will make for himself, but of those you are making for the king."

Percerin made a bound backward, which D'Artagnan--calmest and most
appreciative of men--did not consider overdone; so many strange and
startling aspects wore the proposal which Aramis had just hazarded. "The
king's dresses! Give the king's dresses to any mortal whatever! Oh! for
once, monseigneur, your grace is mad!" cried the poor tailor in
extremity.

"Help me now, D'Artagnan," said Aramis, mo