onsieur Coquelin de Voliere,
was it not?"

"Hush!" said Aramis. "You are walking so heavily you will make the
flooring give way."

"True," said the musketeer; "this room is above the dome, I think."

"And I did not choose it for a fencing-room, I assure you," added the
bishop. "The ceiling of the king's room has all the lightness and calm
of wholesome sleep. Do not forget, therefore, that my flooring is merely
the covering of his ceiling. Good night, my friends, and in ten minutes
I shall be asleep myself." And Aramis accompanied them to the door,
laughing quietly all the while. As soon as they were outside, he bolted
the door, hurriedly; closed up the chinks of the windows, and then
called out, "Monseigneur!--monseigneur!" Philippe made his appearance
from the alcove, as he pushed aside a sliding panel placed behind the
bed.

"M. d'Artagnan entertains a great many suspicions, it seems," he said.

"Ah!--you recognized M. d'Artagnan, then?"

"Before you called him by his name, even."

"He is your captain of musketeers."

"He is very devoted to _me_," replied Philippe, laying a stress upon the
personal pronoun.

"As faithful as a dog; but he bites sometimes. If D'Artagnan does not
recognize you before _the other_ has disappeared, rely upon D'Artagnan
to the end of the world; for in that case, if he has seen nothing, he
will keep his fidelity. If he sees, when it is too late, he is a Gascon,
and will never admit that he has been deceived."

"I thought so. What are we to do, now?"

"Sit in this folding-chair. I am going to push aside a portion of the
flooring; you will look through the opening, which answers to one of the
false windows made in the dome of the king's apartment. Can you see?"

"Yes," said Philippe, starting as at the sight of an enemy; "I see the
king!"

"What is he doing?"

"He seems to wish some man to sit down close to him."

"M. Fouquet?"

"No, no; wait a moment--"

"Look at the notes and the portraits, my prince."

"The man whom the king wishes to sit down in his presence is M.
Colbert."

"Colbert sit down in the king's presence!" exclaimed Aramis. "It is
impossible."

"Look."

Aramis looked through the opening in the flooring. "Yes," he said.
"Colbert himself. Oh, monseigneur! what can we be going to hear--and
what can result from this intimacy?"

"Nothing good for M. Fouquet, at all events."

The prince did not deceive himself.

We have seen that Louis XIV. had sent fo