ies. And this kindness of consideration softened Maria Theresa's
heart, who, being of a kind and generous disposition, when left to her
own free-will, replied:

"I shall be delighted to do whatever your majesty wishes."

"How long will it take us to get to Vaux?" inquired Anne of Austria, in
slow and measured accents, placing her hand upon her bosom, where the
seat of her pain lay.

"An hour for your majesty's carriages," said D'Artagnan; "the roads are
tolerably good."

The king looked at him. "And a quarter of an hour for the king," he
hastened to add.

"We should arrive by daylight?" said Louis XIV.

"But the billeting of the king's military escort," objected Colbert,
softly, "will make his majesty lose all the advantage of his speed,
however quick he may be."

"Double ass that you are!" thought D'Artagnan; "if I had any interest
or motive in demolishing your credit with the king, I could do it in ten
minutes. If I were in the king's place," he added aloud, "I should, in
going to M. Fouquet, leave my escort behind me; I should go to him as a
friend; I should enter accompanied only by my captain of the guards;
I should consider that I was acting more nobly, and should be invested
with a still more sacred character by doing so."

Delight sparkled in the king's eyes. "That is indeed a very sensible
suggestion. We will go to see a friend as friends; the gentlemen who are
with the carriages can go slowly: but we who are mounted will ride on."
And he rode off, accompanied by all those who were mounted. Colbert hid
his ugly head behind his horse's neck.

"I shall be quits," said D'Artagnan, as he galloped along, "by getting
a little talk with Aramis this evening. And then, M. Fouquet is a man of
honor. _Mordioux!_ I have said so, and it must be so."

And this was the way how, towards seven o'clock in the evening, without
announcing his arrival by the din of trumpets, and without even his
advanced guard, without out-riders or musketeers, the king presented
himself before the gate of Vaux, where Fouquet, who had been informed
of his royal guest's approach, had been waiting for the last half-hour,
with his head uncovered, surrounded by his household and his friends.

Chapter XIII. Nectar and Ambrosia.

M. Fouquet held the stirrup of the king, who, having dismounted, bowed
most graciously, and more graciously still held out his hand to him,
which Fouquet, in spite of a slight resistance on the king's part,
ca