M. d'Herblay; the archbishopric may, in your
majesty's extreme kindness, be conferred in addition to the hat; the one
does not exclude the other."

The king admired the readiness which he displayed, and smiled, saying:
"D'Artagnan himself could not have answered better." He had no sooner
pronounced the name than D'Artagnan appeared.

"Did your majesty call me?" he said.

Aramis and Fouquet drew back a step, as if they were about to retire.

"Will your majesty allow me," said D'Artagnan quickly, as he led forward
Porthos, "to present to your majesty M. le Baron du Vallon, one of the
bravest gentlemen of France?"

As soon as Aramis saw Porthos, he turned as pale as death, while Fouquet
clenched his hands under his ruffles. D'Artagnan smiled blandly at
both of them, while Porthos bowed, visibly overcome before the royal
presence.

"Porthos here?" murmured Fouquet in Aramis's ear.

"Hush! deep treachery at work," hissed the latter.

"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "it is more than six years ago I ought to have
presented M. du Vallon to your majesty; but certain men resemble stars,
they move not one inch unless their satellites accompany them. The
Pleiades are never disunited, and that is the reason I have selected,
for the purpose of presenting him to you, the very moment when you would
see M. d'Herblay by his side."

Aramis almost lost countenance. He looked at D'Artagnan with a proud,
haughty air, as though willing to accept the defiance the latter seemed
to throw down.

"Ah! these gentlemen are good friends, then?" said the king.

"Excellent friends, sire; the one can answer for the other. Ask M. de
Vannes now in what manner Belle-Isle was fortified?" Fouquet moved back
a step.

"Belle-Isle," said Aramis, coldly, "was fortified by that gentleman,"
and he indicated Porthos with his hand, who bowed a second time.
Louis could not withhold his admiration, though at the same time his
suspicions were aroused.

"Yes," said D'Artagnan, "but ask monsieur le baron whose assistance he
had in carrying the works out?"

"Aramis's," said Porthos, frankly; and he pointed to the bishop.

"What the deuce does all this mean?" thought the bishop, "and what sort
of a termination are we to expect to this comedy?"

"What!" exclaimed the king, "is the cardinal's, I mean this bishop's,
name _Aramis?_"

"His _nom de guerre_," said D'Artagnan.

"My nickname," said Aramis.

"A truce to modesty!" exclaimed D'Artagnan; "beneath the