D'Artagnan bowed. "There only remains for me to ask your majesty whither
I shall conduct M. Fouquet."

"To the castle of Angers, at first."

"Very well, sire."

"Afterwards we will see."

"Yes, sire."

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, one last word: you have remarked that, for making
this capture of M. Fouquet, I have not employed my guards, on which
account M. de Gesvres will be furious."

"Your majesty does not employ your guards," said the captain, a little
humiliated, "because you mistrust M. de Gesvres, that is all."

"That is to say, monsieur, that I have more confidence in you."

"I know that very well, sire! and it is of no use to make so much of
it."

"It is only for the sake of arriving at this, monsieur, that if, from
this moment, it should happen that by any chance whatever M. Fouquet
should escape--such chances have been, monsieur--"

"Oh! very often, sire; but for others, not for me."

"And why not with you?"

"Because I, sire, have, for an instant, wished to save M. Fouquet."

The king started. "Because," continued the captain, "I had then a right
to do so, having guessed your majesty's plan, without you having spoken
to me of it, and that I took an interest in M. Fouquet. Now, was I not
at liberty to show my interest in this man?"

"In truth, monsieur, you do not reassure me with regard to your
services."

"If I had saved him then, I should have been perfectly innocent; I will
say more, I should have done well, for M. Fouquet is not a bad man. But
he was not willing; his destiny prevailed; he let the hour of liberty
slip by. So much the worse! Now I have orders, I will obey those orders,
and M. Fouquet you may consider as a man arrested. He is at the castle
of Angers, this very M. Fouquet."

"Oh! you have not got him yet, captain."

"That concerns me; every one to his trade, sire; only, once more,
reflect! Do you seriously give me orders to arrest M. Fouquet, sire?"

"Yes, a thousand times, yes!"

"In writing, sire, then."

"Here is the order."

D'Artagnan read it, bowed to the king, and left the room. From the
height of the terrace he perceived Gourville, who went by with a joyous
air towards the lodgings of M. Fouquet.

Chapter XL: The White Horse and the Black.

"That is rather surprising," said D'Artagnan; "Gourville running about
the streets so gayly, when he is almost certain that M. Fouquet is in
danger; when it is almost equally certain that it was Gourville who
warned