d the three spectators of this
scene, and said, "Tell me, Monsieur d'Artagnan, how does it happen that
your sight is so imperfect?--you, whose eyes are generally so very
good."

"My sight bad, sire?"

"Certainly."

"It must be the case, since your majesty says so; but in what respect,
may I ask?"

"Why, with regard to what occurred in the Bois-Rochin."

"Ah! ah!"

"Certainly. You pretend to have seen the tracks of two horses, to have
detected the foot-prints of two men; and have described the particulars
of an engagement, which you assert took place. Nothing of the sort
occurred; pure illusion on your part."

"Ah! ah!" said D'Artagnan.

"Exactly the same thing with the galloping to and fro of the horses, and
the other indications of a struggle. It was the struggle of De Guiche
against the wild boar, and absolutely nothing else; only the struggle
was a long and a terrible one, it seems."

"Ah! ah!" continued D'Artagnan.

"And when I think that I almost believed it for a moment; but, then, you
speak with such confidence."

"I admit, sire, that I must have been very short-sighted," said
D'Artagnan, with a readiness of humor which delighted the king.

"You do admit, then?"

"Admit it, sire, most assuredly I do."

"So that now you see the thing--"

"In quite a different light to what I saw it half an hour ago."

"And to what, then, do you attribute this difference in your opinion?"

"Oh! a very simple thing, sire; half an hour ago I returned from the
Bois-Rochin, where I had nothing to light me but a stupid stable
lantern--"

"While now?"

"While now, I have all the wax-lights of your cabinet, and more than
that, your majesty's own eyes, which illuminate everything, like the
blazing sun at noon-day."

The king began to laugh, and Saint-Aignan broke out into convulsions of
merriment.

"It is precisely like M. Valot," said D'Artagnan, resuming the
conversation where the king had left off; "he has been imagining all
along, that, not only was M. de Guiche wounded by a bullet, but still
more, that he extracted it even from his chest."

"Upon my word," said Valot, "I assure you--"

"Now, did you not believe that?" continued D'Artagnan.

"Yes," said Valot, "not only did I believe it, but at this very moment I
would swear it."

"Well, my dear doctor, you have dreamed it."

"I have dreamed it!"

"M. de Guiche's wound--a mere dream; the bullet a dream. So take my
advice, and say no more about it.