mor, cried to the king, as
he entered, "Sire, is it your majesty who has given orders to my
musketeers?"

"What orders?" said the king.

"About M. Fouquet's house?"

"None!" replied Louis.

"Ha!" said D'Artagnan, biting his mustache; "I was not mistaken, then;
it was monsieur here;" and he pointed to Colbert.

"What orders? Let me know," said the king.

"Orders to turn the house topsy-turvy, to beat M. Fouquet's servants, to
force the drawers, to give over a peaceful house to pillage! _Mordioux!_
these are savage orders!"

"Monsieur!" said Colbert, turning pale.

"Monsieur," interrupted D'Artagnan, "the king alone, understand,--the
king alone has a right to command my musketeers; but, as to you, I
forbid you to do it, and I tell you so before his majesty; gentlemen who
carry swords do not sling pens behind their ears."

"D'Artagnan! D'Artagnan!" murmured the king.

"It is humiliating," continued the musketeer; "my soldiers are
disgraced. I do not command _reitres_, thank you, nor clerks of the
intendant, _mordioux!_"

"Well! but what is all this about?" said the king with authority.

"About this, sire; monsieur--monsieur, who could not guess your
majesty's orders, and consequently could not know I was gone to arrest
M. Fouquet; monsieur, who has caused the iron cage to be constructed for
his patron of yesterday--has sent M. de Roncherolles to the lodgings
of M. Fouquet, and, under the pretense of securing the surintendant's
papers, they have taken away the furniture. My musketeers have been
posted round the house all the morning; such were my orders. Why did any
one presume to order them to enter? Why, by forcing them to assist in
this pillage, have they been made accomplices in it? _Mordioux!_ we
serve the king, we do; but we do not serve M. Colbert!" [5]

"Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the king, sternly, "take care; it is not in
my presence that such explanations, and made in such a tone, should take
place."

"I have acted for the good of the king," said Colbert, in a faltering
voice. "It is hard to be so treated by one of your majesty's officers,
and that without redress, on account of the respect I owe the king."

"The respect you owe the king," cried D'Artagnan, his eyes flashing
fire, "consists, in the first place, in making his authority respected,
and his person beloved. Every agent of a power without control
represents that power, and when people curse the hand which strikes
them, it is the roy