are mad, my
friend."

"Oh! you are so perfect yourself, you never agree to the faults of
others. But, in reality, Henry IV. was covetous, Louis XIII., his son,
was so likewise; we know something of that, don't we? Gaston carried
this vice to exaggeration, and has made himself, in this respect,
hated by all who surround him. Henriette, poor woman, might well be
avaricious, she who did not eat every day, and could not warm herself
every winter; and that is an example she has given to her son Charles
II., grandson of the great Henry IV., who is as covetous as his mother
and his grandfather. See if I have well traced the genealogy of the
misers?"

"D'Artagnan, my friend," cried Athos, "you are very rude towards that
eagle race called the Bourbons."

"Eh! and I have forgotten the best instance of all--the other grandson
of the Bernais, Louis XIV., my ex-master. Well, I hope he is miserly
enough, he who would not lend a million to his brother Charles! Good! I
see you are beginning to be angry. Here we are, by good luck, close to
my house, or rather that of my friend, M. Monk."

"My dear D'Artagnan, you do not make me angry, you make me sad; it is
cruel, in fact, to see a man of your deserts out of the position his
services ought to have acquired; it appears to me, my dear friend, that
your name is as radiant as the greatest names in war and diplomacy. Tell
me if the Luynes, the Ballegardes, and the Bassompierres have merited,
as we have, fortunes and honors? You are right, my friend, a hundred
times right."

D'Artagnan sighed, and preceded his friend under the porch of he mansion
Monk inhabited, at the extremity of the city. "Permit me," said he, "to
leave my purse at home; for if in the crowd those clever pickpockets of
London, who are much boasted of, even in Paris, were to steal from
me the remainder of my poor crowns, I should not be able to return to
France. Now, content I left France, and wild with joy I should return
to it, seeing that all my prejudices of former days against England have
returned, accompanied by many others."

Athos made no reply.

"So, then, my dear friend, one second, and I will follow you," said
D'Artagnan. "I know you are in a hurry to go yonder to receive your
reward, but, believe me, I am not less eager to partake of your joy,
although from a distance. Wait for me." And D'Artagnan was already
passing through the vestibule, when a man, half servant, half soldier,
who filled in Monk's e