le, he is the intimate friend of my master."

"Ah!" said the fisherman, in astonishment.

"And," said D'Artagnan, "I have seen all his chateaux of Saint-Mande, of
Vaux, and his hotel in Paris."

"Is that a fine place?"

"Superb."

"It is not so fine a place as Belle-Isle," said the fisherman.

"Bah!" cried M. d'Artagnan, breaking into a laugh so loud that he
angered all his auditors.

"It is very plain that you have never seen Belle-Isle," said the most
curious of the fishermen. "Do you know that there are six leagues of
it, and that there are such trees on it as cannot be equaled even at
Nantes-sur-le-Fosse?"

"Trees in the sea!" cried D'Artagnan; "well, I should like to see them."

"That can be easily done; we are fishing at the Isle de Hoedic--come
with us. From that place you will see, as a Paradise, the black trees of
Belle-Isle against the sky; you will see the white line of the castle,
which cuts the horizon of the sea like a blade."

"Oh," said D'Artagnan, "that must be very beautiful. But do you know
there are a hundred belfries at M. Fouquet's chateau of Vaux?"

The Breton raised his head in profound admiration, but he was not
convinced. "A hundred belfries! Ah that may be, but Belle-Isle is finer
than that. Should you like to see Belle-Isle?"

"Is that possible?" asked D'Artagnan.

"Yes, with permission of the governor."

"But I do not know the governor."

"As you know M. Fouquet, you can tell your name."

"Oh, my friends, I am not a gentleman."

"Everybody enters Belle-Isle," continued the fisherman in his strong,
pure language, "provided he means no harm to Belle-Isle or its master."

A slight shudder crept over the body of the musketeer.

"That is true," thought he. Then recovering himself, "If I were sure,"
said he, "not to be sea-sick."

"What, upon her?" said the fisherman, pointing with pride to his pretty
round-bottomed bark.

"Well, you almost persuade me," cried M. Agnan; "I will go and see
Belle-Isle, but they will not admit me."

"We shall enter, safe enough."

"You! What for?"

"Why, dame! to sell fish to the corsairs."

"Ha! Corsairs--what do you mean?"

"Well, I mean that M. Fouquet is having two corsairs built to chase the
Dutch and the English, and we sell our fish to the crews of those little
vessels."

"Come, come!" said D'Artagnan to himself--"better and better. A
printing-press, bastions, and corsairs! Well, M. Fouquet is not an
enemy to be despised, as