king had, in point of fact, entered Melun with the intention of
merely passing through the city. The youthful monarch was most eagerly
anxious for amusements; only twice during the journey had he been able
to catch a glimpse of La Valliere, and, suspecting that his only
opportunity of speaking to her would be after nightfall, in the gardens,
and after the ceremonial of reception had been gone through, he had been
very desirous to arrive at Vaux as early as possible. But he reckoned
without his captain of the musketeers, and without M. Colbert. Like
Calypso, who could not be consoled at the departure of Ulysses, our
Gascon could not console himself for not having guessed why Aramis had
asked Percerin to show him the king's new costumes. "There is not a
doubt," he said to himself, "that my friend the bishop of Vannes had
some motive in that;" and then he began to rack his brains most
uselessly. D'Artagnan, so intimately acquainted with all the court
intrigues, who knew the position of Fouquet better even than Fouquet
himself did, had conceived the strangest fancies and suspicions at the
announcement of the fete, which would have ruined a wealthy man, and
which became impossible, utter madness even, for a man so destitute as
he was. And then, the presence of Aramis, who had returned from
Belle-Isle, and been nominated by Monsieur Fouquet inspector-general of
all the arrangements; his perseverance in mixing himself up with all the
surintendant's affairs; his visit to Baisemeaux;--all this suspicious
singularity of conduct had excessively troubled and tormented D'Artagnan
during the last several weeks.

"With men of Aramis' stamp," he said, "one is never the stronger except
sword in hand. So long as Aramis continued a soldier, there was hope of
getting the better of him; but since he has covered his cuirass with a
stole, we are lost. But what can Aramis' object possibly be?" And
D'Artagnan plunged again into deep thought. "What does it matter to me,
after all," he continued, "if his only object is to overthrow M.
Colbert? And what else can he be after?" And D'Artagnan rubbed his
forehead--that fertile land, whence the plowshare of his nails had
turned up so many and such admirable ideas in his time. He, at first,
thought of talking the matter over with Colbert, but his friendship for
Aramis, the oath of earlier days, bound him too strictly. He revolted at
the bare idea of such a thing, and, besides, he hated the financier too