have the honor
to mention to your majesty that there are six leagues of sea from the
river to Belle-Isle."

"It is said that M. Fouquet has a very beautiful house there?" inquired
the king.

"Yes, it is said so," replied Aramis, looking quietly at Fouquet.

"What do you mean by 'it is said so?'" exclaimed the king.

"He has, sire."

"Really, M. Fouquet, I must confess that one circumstance surprises me."

"What may that be, sire?"

"That you should have at the head of the diocese a man like M.
d'Herblay, and yet should not have shown him Belle-Isle."

"Oh, sire," replied the bishop, without giving Fouquet time to answer,
"we poor Breton prelates seldom leave our residences."

"M. de Vannes," said the king, "I will punish M. Fouquet for his
indifference."

"In what way, sire?"

"I will change your bishopric."

Fouquet bit his lips, but Aramis only smiled.

"What income does Vannes bring you in?" continued the king.

"Sixty thousand livres, sire," said Aramis.

"So trifling an amount as that; but you possess other property, Monsieur
de Vannes?"

"I have nothing else, sire; only M. Fouquet pays me one thousand two
hundred livres a year for his pew in the church."

"Well, M. d'Herblay, I promise you something better than that."

"Sire--"

"I will not forget you."

Aramis bowed, and the king also bowed to him in a respectful manner, as
he was accustomed to do towards women and members of the Church. Aramis
gathered that his audience was at an end; he took his leave of the
king in the simple, unpretending language of a country pastor, and
disappeared.

"He is, indeed, a remarkable face," said the king, following him with
his eyes as long as he could see him, and even to a certain degree when
he was no longer to be seen.

"Sire," replied Fouquet, "if that bishop had been educated early in
life, no prelate in the kingdom would deserve the highest distinctions
better than he."

"His learning is not extensive, then?"

"He changed the sword for the crucifix, and that rather late in life.
But it matters little, if your majesty will permit me to speak of M. de
Vannes again on another occasion--"

"I beg you to do so. But before speaking of him, let us speak of
yourself, M. Fouquet."

"Of me, sire?"

"Yes, I have to pay you a thousand compliments."

"I cannot express to your majesty the delight with which you overwhelm
me."

"I understand you, M. Fouquet. I confess, however, to have had certai