almost indignant at what he
considered a mystification.

"Yes, sire," replied D'Artagnan, in the same tone, "I bring him to you;
he is down below yonder, in a large chest pierced with holes, so as to
allow him to breathe."

"Good God!"

"Oh! don't be uneasy, sire, we have taken the greatest possible care
of him. He comes in good state, and in perfect condition. Would your
majesty please to see him, to talk with him, or to have him thrown into
the sea?"

"Oh, heavens!" repeated Charles, "oh, heavens! do you speak the truth,
monsieur? Are you not insulting me with some unworthy joke? You have
accomplished this unheard-of act of audacity and genius--impossible!"

"Will your majesty permit me to open the window?" said D'Artagnan,
opening it.

The king had not time to reply yes or no. D'Artagnan gave a shrill and
prolonged whistle, which he repeated three times through the silence of
the night.

"There!" said he, "he will be brought to your majesty."

Chapter XXIX. In which D'Artagnan begins to fear he has placed his Money
and that of Planchet in the Sinking Fund.

The king could not overcome his surprise, and looked sometimes at the
smiling face of the musketeer, and sometimes at the dark window which
opened into the night. But before he had fixed his ideas, eight of
D'Artagnan's men, for two had remained to take care of the bark, brought
to the house, where Parry received him, that object of an oblong form,
which, for the moment, inclosed the destinies of England. Before he left
Calais, D'Artagnan had had made in that city a sort of coffin, large and
deep enough for a man to turn in it at his ease. The bottom and sides,
properly upholstered, formed a bed sufficiently soft to prevent the
rolling of the ship turning this kind of cage into a rat-trap. The
little grating, of which D'Artagnan had spoken to the king, like the
visor of the helmet, was placed opposite to the man's face. It was so
constructed that, at the least cry, a sudden pressure would stifle that
cry, and, if necessary, him who had uttered that cry.

D'Artagnan was so well acquainted with his crew and his prisoner, that
during the whole voyage he had been in dread of two things: either that
the general would prefer death to this sort of imprisonment, and would
smother himself by endeavoring to speak, or that his guards would allow
themselves to be tempted by the offers of the prisoner, and put him,
D'Artagnan, into the box instead of Monk.