d Fouquet.

"Do you know, M. Fouquet, that I had a great many things to say to you?"
continued the king, with a most gracious air.

"Your majesty overwhelms me, and since you are so graciously disposed
towards me, will you permit me to remind you of the promise made to
grant an audience?"

"Ah, yes! some church dignitary, who thinks he has to thank me for
something, is it not?"

"Precisely so, sire. The hour is, perhaps, badly chosen; but the time
of the companion whom I have brought with me is valuable, and as
Fontainebleau is on the way to his diocese--"

"Who is it, then?"

"The bishop of Vannes, whose appointment your majesty, at my
recommendation, deigned, three months since, to sign."

"That is very possible," said the king, who had signed without reading;
"and he is here?"

"Yes, sire; Vannes is an important diocese; the flock belonging to this
pastor needed his religious consolation; they are savages, whom it is
necessary to polish, at the same time that he instructs them, and M.
d'Herblay is unequalled in such kind of missions."

"M. d'Herblay!" said the king, musingly, as if his name, heard long
since, was not, however, unknown to him.

"Oh!" said Fouquet, promptly, "your majesty is not acquainted with the
obscure name of one of your most faithful and valuable servants?"

"No, I confess I am not. And so he wishes to set off again?"

"He has this very day received letters which will, perhaps, compel him
to leave, so that, before setting off for that unknown region called
Bretagne, he is desirous of paying his respects to your majesty."

"Is he waiting?"

"He is here, sire."

"Let him enter."

Fouquet made a sign to the usher in attendance, who was waiting behind
the tapestry. The door opened, and Aramis entered. The king allowed him
to finish the compliments which he addressed to him, and fixed a long
look upon a countenance which no one could forget, after having once
beheld it.

"Vannes!" he said: "you are bishop of Vannes, I believe?"

"Yes, sire."

"Vannes is in Bretagne, I think?" Aramis bowed.

"Near the coast?" Aramis again bowed.

"A few leagues from Bell-Isle, is it not?"

"Yes, sire," replied Aramis; "six leagues, I believe."

"Six leagues; a mere step, then," said Louis XIV.

"Not for us poor Bretons, sire," replied Aramis: "six leagues, on the
contrary, is a great distance, if it be six leagues on land; and an
immense distance, if it be leagues on the sea. Besides, I