d
you--that is to say, Aramis always suspected you to have savings. For
my own part, d'ye see, I take no concern about the management of my
household; but I presume the savings of a musketeer must be small."

"No doubt, relative to yourself, Porthos, who are a millionaire; but you
shall judge. I had laid by twenty-five thousand livres."

"That's pretty well," said Porthos, with an affable air.

"And," continued D'Artagnan, "on the twenty-eighth of last month I added
to it two hundred thousand livres more."

Porthos opened his large eyes, which eloquently demanded of the
musketeer, "Where the devil did you steal such a sum as that, my dear
friend?" "Two hundred thousand livres!" cried he, at length.

"Yes; which, with the twenty-five I had, and twenty thousand I have
about me, complete the sum of two hundred and forty-five thousand
livres."

"But tell me, whence comes this fortune?"

"I will tell you all about it presently, dear friend; but as you have,
in the first place, many things to tell me yourself, let us have my
recital in its proper order."

"Bravo!" said Porthos, "then we are both rich. But what can I have to
relate to you?"

"You have to relate to me how Aramis came to be named----"

"Ah! bishop of Vannes."

"That's it," said D'Artagnan, "bishop of Vannes. Dear Aramis! do you
know how he succeeded so well?"

"Yes, yes; without reckoning that he does not mean to stop there."

"What! do you mean he will not be contented with violet stockings, and
that he wants a red hat?"

"Hush! that is promised him."

"Bah! by the king?"

"By somebody more powerful than the king."

"Ah! the devil! Porthos: what incredible things you tell me, my friend!"

"Why incredible? Is there not always somebody in France more powerful
than the king?"

"Oh, yes; in the time of King Louis XIII. it was Cardinal Richelieu; in
the time of the Regency it was Cardinal Mazarin. In the time of Louis
XIV. it is M.----"

"Go on."

"It is M. Fouquet."

"Jove! you have hit it the first time."

"So, then, I suppose it is M. Fouquet who has promised Aramis the red
hat?"

Porthos assumed an air of reserve. "Dear friend," said he, "God preserve
me from meddling with the affairs of others, above all from revealing
secrets it may be to their interest to keep. When you see Aramis, he
will tell you all he thinks he ought to tell you."

"You are right, Porthos; and you are quite a padlock for safety. But, to
revert to yoursel