inction which this arrest
will confer, just as the members of the De Luynes family have done with
regard to the estates of the poor Marechal d'Ancre. But the thing is,
how best to execute the king's directions in a proper manner. Any man
would know how to say to M. Fouquet, 'Your sword, monsieur.' But it
is not every one who would be able to take care of M. Fouquet without
others knowing anything about it. How am I to manage, then, so that M.
le surintendant pass from the height of favor to the direst disgrace;
that Vaux be turned into a dungeon for him; that after having been
steeped to his lips, as it were, in all the perfumes and incense of
Ahasuerus, he is transferred to the gallows of Haman; in other words, of
Enguerrand de Marigny?" And at this reflection, D'Artagnan's brow became
clouded with perplexity. The musketeer had certain scruples on the
matter, it must be admitted. To deliver up to death (for not a doubt
existed that Louis hated Fouquet mortally) the man who had just shown
himself so delightful and charming a host in every way, was a real
insult to one's conscience. "It almost seems," said D'Artagnan to
himself, "that if I am not a poor, mean, miserable fellow, I should let
M. Fouquet know the opinion the king has about him. Yet, if I betray
my master's secret, I shall be a false-hearted, treacherous knave, a
traitor, too, a crime provided for and punishable by military laws--so
much so, indeed, that twenty times, in former days when wars were rife,
I have seen many a miserable fellow strung up to a tree for doing, in
but a small degree, what my scruples counsel me to undertake upon a
great scale now. No, I think that a man of true readiness of wit ought
to get out of this difficulty with more skill than that. And now, let
us admit that I do possess a little readiness of invention; it is not at
all certain, though, for, after having for forty years absorbed so
large a quantity, I shall be lucky if there were to be a pistole's-worth
left." D'Artagnan buried his head in his hands, tore at his mustache
in sheer vexation, and added, "What can be the reason of M. Fouquet's
disgrace? There seem to be three good ones: the first, because M.
Colbert doesn't like him; the second, because he wished to fall in love
with Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and lastly, because the king likes M.
Colbert and loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Oh! he is lost! But shall
I put my foot on his neck, I, of all men, when he is falling