hat, in exchange, M.
Fouquet, they say, has a good number of millions of his own."

"Oh! our million was spent long ago," said Athos, laughing in his turn.

"I understand, it was frittered away in satin, precious stones, velvet,
and feathers of all sorts and colors. All these princes and princesses
stood in great need of tailors and dressmakers. Eh! Athos, do you
remember what we fellows spent in equipping ourselves for the campaign
of La Rochelle, and to make our appearance on horseback? Two or three
thousand livres, by my faith! But a king's robe is more ample; it would
require a million to purchase the stuff. At least, Athos, if you are not
treasurer, you are on a good footing at court."

"By the faith of a gentleman, I know nothing about it," said Athos,
simply.

"What! you know nothing about it?"

"No! I have not seen the king since we left Dover."

"Then he has forgotten you, too! Mordioux! That is shameful!"

"His majesty has had so much business to transact."

"Oh!" cried D'Artagnan, with one of those intelligent grimaces which he
alone knew how to make, "that is enough to make me recover my love for
Monseigneur Giulio Mazarini. What, Athos the king has not seen you since
then?"

"No."

"And you are not furious?"

"I! Why should I be? Do you imagine, my dear D'Artagnan, that it was on
the king's account I acted as I have done? I did not know the young man.
I defended the father, who represented a principle--sacred in my eyes,
and I allowed myself to be drawn towards the son from sympathy for this
same principle. Besides, he was a worthy knight, a noble creature, that
father: do you remember him?"

"Yes; that is true; he was a brave, an excellent man, who led a sad
life, but made a fine end."

"Well, my dear D'Artagnan, understand this; to that king, to that man
of heart, to that friend of my thoughts, if I durst venture to say so,
I swore at the last hour to preserve faithfully the secret of a deposit
which was to be transmitted to his son, to assist him in his hour of
need. This young man came to me; he described his destitution; he was
ignorant that he was anything to me save a living memory of his father.
I have accomplished towards Charles II. what I promised Charles I.; that
is all! Of what consequence is it to me, then, whether he be grateful or
not? It is to myself I have rendered a service, by relieving myself of
this responsibility, and not to him."

"Well, I have always said," replied