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Updated: June 2, 2025
M. d'Herblay, your old master, my friend, an ecclesiastic, a musketeer turned bishop do you mean to say you would raise your sword against him, Planchet?" "I could raise my sword against my own father, when I see you in such a state as you are now." "M. d'Herblay, a gentleman!" "It's all the same to me whether he's a gentleman or not. He gives you the blue devils, that is all I know.
Monsieur Colbert, you have then nine hundred thousand livres at the intendance?" Colbert, suffocated, bowed, but made no reply. All this scene entered into the mind of D'Artagnan, by the eyes and ears, at once. The first word of Louis to his musketeer, as if he wished it to contrast with what he was saying at the moment, was a kind "good day." His second was to send away Colbert.
"Here!" cried an old man, white as snow, sitting bent in his carriage, which he caused to be thrown open to make room for the musketeer. "Aramis!" cried D'Artagnan, struck with profound amazement. And he felt, inert as it was, the thin arm of the old nobleman hanging round his neck.
"Sire," replied he, "does your majesty absolutely require M. d'Herblay to be brought to you?" "Absolutely is not the word," said Philippe; "I do not want him so particularly as that; but if he can be found " "I thought so," said D'Artagnan to himself. "Is this M. d'Herblay the bishop of Vannes?" "Yes, madame." "A friend of M. Fouquet?" "Yes, madame; an old musketeer." Anne of Austria blushed.
Colbert bowed, much humiliated at having to undergo such a lesson before the musketeer; he was about to go out, but, jealous to repair his check: "I forgot to announce to your majesty," said he, "that the confiscations amount to the sum of five millions of livres." "That's pretty well!" thought D'Artagnan. "Which makes in my coffers?" said the king.
The two young men bowed and separated, Aramis ascending the street which led to the Luxembourg, while d'Artagnan, perceiving the appointed hour was approaching, took the road to the Carmes-Deschaux, saying to himself, "Decidedly I can't draw back; but at least, if I am killed, I shall be killed by a Musketeer." D'Artagnan was acquainted with nobody in Paris.
"Sire," said the musketeer, quietly, "as far as I see, freedom is not the order of the conversation, as it was on the day we came to an explanation at Blois." "No, monsieur; everything is changed." "I tender your majesty my sincere compliments upon that, but " "But you don't believe it?"
He had instructed Porthos to profit by this opportunity to see the ceremony; and Porthos, in full dress, mounted his finest horse, taking the part of supernumerary musketeer, as D'Artagnan had so often done formerly.
"Now then," added D'Artagnan, opening his arms to Athos, "adieu, my dear friend!" Athos held him in a long embrace, and the musketeer, who knew his discretion so well, murmured in his ear "An affair of state," to which Athos only replied by a pressure of the hand, still more significant. They then separated. Raoul took the arm of his old friend, who led him along the Rue Saint-Honore.
"Pay attention, monsieur, that this is forever," cried the king, in tones of sternest menace. "I can quite believe that," returned the musketeer; "for when you have once done such an act as that, you will never be able to look me in the face again." The king dashed down his pen violently. "Leave the room, monsieur!" he said. "Not so, if it please your majesty." "What is that you say?"
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