free."
"Ah! my friend," replied Aramis, looking at Porthos, "could you not have waited with a little more patience?"
D'Artagnan came to the assistance of Porthos, who already began to breathe hard, in perplexity.
"You see, you members of the Church are great politicians; we, mere soldiers, go at once to the point. The facts are these: I went to pay Baisemeaux a visit—"
Aramis pricked up his ears at this announcement.
"Stay!" said Porthos; "you make me remember that I have a letter from Baisemeaux for you, Aramis." And Porthos held out to the bishop the letter we have already seen. Aramis begged to be allowed to read it, and read it without D'Artagnan feeling in the slightest degree embarrassed by the circumstance that he was so well acquainted with the contents of it. Besides, Aramis' face was so impenetrable, that D'Artagnan could not but admire him more than ever; after he had read it, he put the letter into his pocket with the calmest possible air.
"You were saying, captain?" he observed.
"I was saying," continued the musketeer, "that I had gone to pay Baisemeaux a visit on his majesty's service."
"On his majesty's service?" said Aramis.
"Yes," said D'Artagnan, "and, naturally enough, we talked about you and our friends. I must say that Baisemeaux received me coldly; so I soon took my leave of him. As I was returning, a soldier accosted me, and said (no doubt he recognized me, notwithstanding I was in private clothes), 'Captain, will you be good enough to read me the name written on this envelope?' and I read, 'To Monsieur de Valon, at M. Fouquet's, Saint-Mandé.' The deuce, said I to myself, Porthos has not returned, then, as I fancied, to Belle-Isle or Pierrefonds, but is at M. Fouquet's house, at Saint-Mandé: and as M. Fouquet is not at Saint-Mandé, Porthos must be quite alone, or, at all events, with Aramis; I will go and see Porthos, and I accordingly went to see Porthos."
"Very good," said Aramis, thoughtfully.
"You never told me that," said Porthos.
"I did not have the time, my friend."
"And you brought back Porthos with you to Fontainebleau?"
"Yes, to Planchet's house."
"Does Planchet live at Fontainebleau?" inquired Aramis.
"Yes, near the cemetery," said Porthos, thoughtlessly.
"What do you mean by 'near the cemetery?'" said Aramis, suspiciously.
"Come," thought the musketeer, "since there is to be a squabble, let us take advantage of it."
"Yes; the cemetery," said Porthos. "Planchet is a very excellent fellow, who makes very excellent preserves; but his house has windows which look out upon the cemetery. And a very melancholy prospect it is! So this morning—"
"This morning?" said Aramis, more and more excited.
D'Artagnan turned his back to them, and walked to the window, where he began to play a march upon one of the panes of glass.
"Yes; this morning, we saw a man buried there."
"Ah! ah!"
"Very depressing, was it not? I should never be able to live in a house where burials can always be seen from it. D'Artagnan, on the contrary, seems to like it very much."
"So D'Artagnan saw it as well?"
"Not simply saw it, he literally never took his eyes off the whole time."
Aramis started, and turned to look at the musketeer, but the latter was engaged in earnest conversation with Saint-Aignan. Aramis continued to question Porthos, and when he had squeezed all the juice out of this enormous lemon he threw the peel aside. He turned toward his friend D'Artagnan, and clapping him on the shoulder, when Saint-Aignan had left him, the king's supper having been announced, said, "D'Artagnan."
"Yes, my dear fellow," he replied.
"We do not sup with his majesty, I believe?"
"Yes, indeed, I do."
"Can you give me ten minutes' conversation?"
"Twenty, if you like. His majesty will take quite that time to get properly seated at table."
"Where shall we talk, then?"
"Here, upon these seats, if you like; the king has left, we can sit down, and the apartment is empty."
"Let us sit down, then."
They sat down, and Aramis took one of D'Artagnan's hands in his.
"Tell me candidly, my dear friend, whether you have not counseled Porthos to distrust me a little?"
"I admit I have, but not as you understand it. I saw that Porthos was bored to death, and I wished, by presenting him to the king, to do for him, and for you, what you would never do for yourselves."
"What is that?"
"Speak in your own praise."
"And you have done it most nobly, I thank you."
"And I brought the cardinal's hat a little nearer, just as it seemed to be retreating from you."
"Ah! I admit that," said Aramis, with a singular smile, "you are, indeed, not to be matched for making your friends' fortunes for them."
"You see, then, that I only acted with the view of making Porthos' fortune for him."
"I meant to have done that myself; but your arm reaches farther than ours."
It was now D'Artagnan's turn to smile.
"Come," said Aramis, "we ought to deal truthfully with each other; do you still love me, D'Artagnan?"
"The same as I used to do," replied D'Artagnan, without compromising himself too much by this reply.
"In that case, thanks; and now for the most perfect frankness," said Aramis: "you came to Belle-Isle for the king."
"Pardieu!"
"You wished to deprive us of the pleasure of offering Belle-Isle completely fortified to the king."
"But before I could deprive you of that pleasure, I ought to have been made acquainted with your intention of doing so."
"You came to Belle-Isle without knowing anything?"
"Of you? yes. How the devil could I imagine that Aramis had become so clever an engineer, as to be able to fortify like Polybius or Archimedes?"
"True. And yet you divined me yonder?"
"Oh! yes.
"And Porthos, too?"
"I did not divine that Aramis was an engineer. I was only able to divine that Porthos might have
