atch its
effect.

"That is merely an act of graceful attention," replied Aramis.

D'Artagnan went up to his friend, took hold of both his hands, and
looking him full in the eyes, said: "Aramis, do you still care for me a
very little?"

"What a question to ask!"

"Very good. One favor, then. Why did you take some patterns of the
king's costumes at Percerin's?"

"Come with me and ask poor Lebrun, who has been working upon them for
the last two days and two nights."

"Aramis, that may be the truth for everybody else, but for me--"

"Upon my word, D'Artagnan, you astonish me."

"Be a little considerate for me. Tell me the exact truth; you would not
like anything disagreeable to happen to me, would you?"

"My dear friend, you are becoming quite incomprehensible. What suspicion
can you possibly have got hold of?"

"Do you believe in my instinctive feelings? Formerly, you used to have
faith in them. Well, then, an instinct tells me, that you have some
concealed project on foot."

"I--a project?"

"I am convinced of it."

"What nonsense!"

"I am not only sure of it, but I would even swear it."

"Indeed, D'Artagnan, you cause me the greatest pain. Is it likely, if I
have any project in hand, that I ought to keep secret from you, I should
tell you about it? If I had one that I could and ought to have revealed,
should I not have already told it to you?"

"No, Aramis, no. There are certain projects which are never revealed
until the favorable opportunity arrives."

"In that case, my dear fellow," returned the bishop, laughing, "the only
thing now is, that the 'opportunity' has not yet arrived."

D'Artagnan shook his head with a sorrowful expression. "Oh, friendship,
friendship!" he said, "what an idle word you are! Here is a man who, if
I were but to ask it, would suffer himself to be cut in pieces for my
sake."

"You are right," said Aramis, nobly.

"And this man, who would shed every drop of blood in his veins for me,
will not open the smallest corner of his heart. Friendship, I repeat, is
nothing but a mere unsubstantial shadow and a lure, like everything else
in this world which is bright and dazzling."

"It is not thus you should speak of _our_ friendship," replied the
bishop, in a firm, assured voice: "for ours is not of the same nature as
those you have been speaking of."

"Look at us, Aramis; three out of the old 'four.' You are deceiving me;
I suspect you; and Porthos is fast asleep. An admira