und; so that, at the end of a minute, the king, who heard
nothing, and saw nothing but with the corner of his eye, was obliged to
cry, "Is not M. D'Artagnan there?"

"I am here, sire," replied the musketeer, advancing.

"Well, monsieur," said the king, fixing his clear eye upon D'Artagnan,
"what have you to say to me?"

"I, sire!" replied the latter, who watched the first blow of his
adversary to make a good retort; "I have nothing to say to your majesty,
unless it be that you have caused me to be arrested, and here I am."

The king was going to reply that he had not had D'Artagnan arrested, but
the sentence appeared too much like an excuse, and he was silent.
D'Artagnan likewise preserved an obstinate silence.

"Monsieur," at length resumed the king, "what did I charge you to go and
do at Belle-Isle? Tell me, if you please."

The king, while speaking these words, looked fixedly at his captain.
Here D'Artagnan was too fortunate; the king seemed to place the game in
his hands.

"I believe," replied he, "that your majesty does me the honor to ask
what I went to Belle-Isle to do?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Well! sire, I know nothing about it; it is not of me that question
should be asked, but of that infinite number of officers of all kinds to
whom have been given an infinite number of orders of all kinds, while to
me, head of the expedition, nothing precise was ordered."

The king was wounded; he showed it by his reply. "Monsieur," said he,
"orders have only been given to such as were judged faithful."

"And, therefore, I have been astonished, sire," retorted the musketeer,
"that a captain like myself, who rank with a marechal of France, should
have found himself under the orders of five or six lieutenants or
majors, good to make spies of, possibly, but not at all fit to conduct
warlike expeditions. It was upon this subject I came to demand an
explanation of your majesty, when I found the door closed against me,
which, the last insult offered to a brave man, has led me to quit your
majesty's service."

"Monsieur," replied the king, "you still believe you are living in an
age when kings were, as you complain of having been, under the orders
and at the discretion of their inferiors. You appear too much to forget
that a king owes an account of his actions to none but God."

"I forget nothing at all, sire," said the musketeer, wounded by this
lesson. "Besides, I do not see in what an honest man, when he asks of
his