ale blue light the sumptuous
cornices of the surintendant's room, D'Artagnan rose from his armchair,
arranged his sword, brushed his coat and hat with his sleeve like a
private soldier getting ready for inspection.

"Are you going out?" said Fouquet.

"Yes, monseigneur. And you?"

"No; I shall remain."

"You give me your word?"

"Certainly."

"Very good. Besides, my only reason for going out, is to try and get
that reply--you know what I mean?"

"That sentence, you mean--"

"Stay, I have something of the old Roman in me. This morning, when I got
up, I remarked that my sword had not caught in one of the
_aiguillettes_, and that my shoulder-belt had slipped quite off. That is
an infallible sign."

"Of prosperity?"

"Yes; be sure of it; for every time that that confounded belt of mine
sticks fast to my back, it always signified a punishment from M. de
Treville, or a refusal of money by M. de Mazarin. Every time my sword
hung fast to my shoulder-belt, it always predicted some disagreeable
commission or another for me to execute, and I have had showers of them
all my life through. Every time, too, my sword danced about in its
sheath, a duel, fortunate in its result, was sure to follow; whenever it
dangled about the calves of my legs, it was a slight wound; every time
it fell completely out of the scabbard I was booked, and made up my mind
that I should have to remain on the field of battle, with two or three
months under the surgeon's care into the bargain."

"I never knew your sword kept you so well informed," said Fouquet, with
a faint smile, which showed how he was struggling against his own
weaknesses. "Is your sword bewitched, or under the influence of some
charm?"

"Why, you must know that my sword may almost be regarded as part of my
own body. I have heard that certain men seem to have warnings given them
by feeling something the matter with their legs, or by a throbbing of
their temples. With me, it is my sword that warns me. Well, it told me
of nothing this morning. But, stay a moment--look here, it has just
fallen, of its own accord, into the last hole of the belt. Do you know
what that is a warning of?"

"No."

"Well, that tells me of an arrest that will have to be made this very
day."

"Well," said the surintendant, more astonished than annoyed by this
frankness, "if there is nothing disagreeable predicted to you by your
sword, I am to conclude that it is not disagreeable for you to arrest