cordially. Then, again, he wished to unburden his mind to the king; but
yet the king would not be able to understand the suspicions, which had
not even a shadow of reality at their base. He resolved to address
himself to Aramis, direct, the first time he met him. "I will take him,"
said the musketeer, "between a couple of candles, suddenly, and when he
least expects it, I will place my hand upon his heart, and he will tell
me--What will he tell me? Yes, he will tell me something, for, mordioux!
there is something in it, I know."

Somewhat calmer, D'Artagnan made every preparation for the journey, and
took the greatest care that the military household of the king, as yet
very inconsiderable in numbers, should be well officered and well
disciplined in its meager and limited proportions. The result was that,
through the captain's arrangements, the king, on arriving at Melun, saw
himself at the head of the musketeers, his Swiss guards, as well as a
picket of the French guards. It might almost have been called a small
army. M. Colbert looked at the troops with great delight: he even wished
there had been a third more in number.

"But why?" said the king.

"In order to show greater honor to M. Fouquet," replied Colbert.

"In order to ruin him the sooner," thought D'Artagnan.

When this little army appeared before Melun, the chief magistrates came
out to meet the king, and to present him with the keys of the city, and
invited him to enter the Hotel de Ville, in order to partake of the wine
of honor. The king, who expected to pass through the city and to proceed
to Vaux without delay, became quite red in the face from vexation.

"Who was fool enough to occasion this delay?" muttered the king, between
his teeth, as the chief magistrate was in the middle of a long address.

"Not I, certainly," replied D'Artagnan, "but I believe it was M.
Colbert."

Colbert, having heard his name pronounced, said, "What was M. d'Artagnan
good enough to say?"

"I was good enough to remark that it was you who stopped the king's
progress, so that he might taste the vin de Brie. Was I right?"

"Quite so, monsieur."

"In that case, then, it was you whom the king called some name or
other."

"What name?"

"I hardly know; but wait a moment--idiot, I think it was--no, no, it was
fool or stupid. Yes; his majesty said that the man who had thought of
the vin de Melun was something of the sort."

D'Artagnan, after this broadside, quietly ca