ent
services, and the honor you do to his arms. The king is highly
pleased, monsieur, with the captures you have made; he commands you, in
particular, to finish the siege you have commenced, with good fortune to
you, and success for him."

D'Artagnan was standing with a radiant countenance and sparkling eye.
He looked up to watch the progress of his troops upon the walls, still
enveloped in red and black volumes of smoke. "I have finished," replied
he to the messenger; "the city will have surrendered in a quarter of an
hour." He then resumed his reading:

"The _coffret_, Monsieur d'Artagnan, is my own present. You will not be
sorry to see that, whilst you warriors are drawing the sword to defend
the king, I am moving the pacific arts to ornament a present worthy of
you. I commend myself to your friendship, monsieur le marechal, and beg
you to believe in mine. COLBERT"

D'Artagnan, intoxicated with joy, made a sign to the messenger, who
approached, with his _coffret_ in his hands. But at the moment the
_marechal_ was going to look at it, a loud explosion resounded from the
ramparts, and called his attention towards the city. "It is strange,"
said D'Artagnan, "that I don't yet see the king's flag on the walls, or
hear the drums beat the _chamade_." He launched three hundred fresh men,
under a high-spirited officer, and ordered another breach to be made.
Then, more tranquilly, he turned towards the _coffret_, which Colbert's
envoy held out to him.--It was his treasure--he had won it.

D'Artagnan was holding out his hand to open the _coffret_, when a ball
from the city crushed the _coffret_ in the arms of the officer, struck
D'Artagnan full in the chest, and knocked him down upon a sloping heap
of earth, whilst the _fleur-de-lised baton_, escaping from the broken
box, came rolling under the powerless hand of the _marechal_. D'Artagnan
endeavored to raise himself. It was thought he had been knocked down
without being wounded. A terrible cry broke from the group of terrified
officers; the _marechal_ was covered with blood; the pallor of death
ascended slowly to his noble countenance. Leaning upon the arms held
out on all sides to receive him, he was able once more to turn his eyes
towards the place, and to distinguish the white flag at the crest of the
principal bastion; his ears, already deaf to the sounds of life, caught
feebly the rolling of the drum which announced the victory. Then,
clasping in his nerveless hand the