ing
enough."

D'Artagnan launched at the master of the dogs one of his evil looks, and
said to him--"Monsieur, if any one told me that you had eaten your dogs'
meat, not only would I refuse to believe it; but, still more, if you
were condemned to the whip or the jail for it, I should pity you, and
would not allow people to speak ill of you. And yet, monsieur, honest
man as you may be, I assure you that you are not more so than poor M.
Fouquet was."

After having undergone this sharp rebuke, the captain of the harriers
hung his head, and allowed the falconer to get two steps in advance of
him nearer to D'Artagnan.

"He is content," said the falconer, in a low voice, to the musketeer;
"we all know that harriers are in fashion nowadays; if he were a
falconer he would not talk in that way."

D'Artagnan smiled in a melancholy manner at seeing this great political
question resolved by the discontent of such humble interests. He for a
moment ran over in his mind the glorious existence of the surintendant,
the crumbling away of his fortunes, and the melancholy death that
awaited him; and, to conclude, "Did M. Fouquet love falconry?" said he.

"Oh, passionately, monsieur!" replied the falconer, with an accent of
bitter regret, and a sigh that was the funeral oration of Fouquet.

D'Artagnan allowed the ill-humor of the one and the regrets of the other
to pass, and continued to advance into the plain. They could already
catch glimpses of the huntsmen at the issues of the wood, the feathers
of the out-riders passing like shooting stars across the clearings, and
the white horses cutting with their luminous apparitions the dark
thickets of the copses.

"But," resumed D'Artagnan, "will the sport be long? Pray, give us a good
swift bird, for I am very tired. Is it a heron or a swan?"

"Both, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the falconer; "but you need not be
alarmed, the king is not much of a sportsman; he does not sport on his
own account, he only wishes to give amusement to the ladies."

The words "to the ladies" were so strongly accented, that it set
D'Artagnan listening.

"Ah!" said he, looking at the falconer with surprise.

The captain of the harriers smiled, no doubt with a view of making it up
with the musketeer.

"Oh! you may safely laugh," said D'Artagnan; "I know nothing of current
news; I only arrived yesterday, after a month's absence. I left the
court mourning the death of the queen-mother. The king was not willi