oment may arrive. Are
you satisfied with that plan?"

"It makes me shudder."

"I thought you would not like it. It would have been very disagreeable
to have made your appearance to-morrow, without any preparation, and to
have asked you to deliver up your sword."

"Oh! monsieur, I should have died from sheer shame and anger."

"Your gratitude is too eloquently expressed. I have not done enough to
deserve it, I assure you."

"Most certainly, monsieur, you will never get me to believe that."

"Well, then, monseigneur, if you are satisfied with what I have done,
and have somewhat recovered from the shock which I prepared you for as
much as I possibly could, let us allow the few hours that remain to pass
away undisturbed. You are harassed, and require to arrange your
thoughts; I beg you, therefore, to go to sleep, or pretend to go to
sleep, either on your bed or in your bed; I shall sleep in this
armchair; and when I fall asleep, my rest is so sound that a cannon
would not wake me."

Fouquet smiled. "I except, however," continued the musketeer, "the case
of a door being opened, whether a secret door, or any other; or the case
of any one going out of, or coming into the room. For anything like
that, my ear is as quick and sensitive as possible. Any creaking noise
makes me start. It arises, I suppose, from a natural antipathy to
anything of the kind. Move about as much as you like; walk up and down
in any part of the room; write, efface, destroy, burn--nothing like that
will prevent me from going to sleep, or even prevent me from snoring;
but do not touch either the key or the handle of the door! for I should
start up in a moment, and that would shake my nerves terribly."

"Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Fouquet, "you are certainly the most witty
and the most courteous man I ever met with; and you will leave me only
one regret, that of having made your acquaintance so late."

D'Artagnan drew a deep sigh, which seemed to say, "Alas! you have
perhaps made it too soon." He then settled himself in his armchair,
while Fouquet, half lying on his bed and leaning on his arm, was
meditating upon his adventure. In this way, both of them, leaving the
candles burning, awaited the first dawn of day; and when Fouquet
happened to sigh too loudly, D'Artagnan only snored the louder. Not a
single visit, not even from Aramis, disturbed their quietude; not a
sound even was heard throughout the vast palace. Outside, however, the
guards of h