"Yes, monsieur."
"Give it me, I will pay you myself; come with me." He made a sign to Gourville and the abbe, who remained in the chamber where they were. He led D'Artagnan into his cabinet. As soon as the door was shut,--"how much is due to you, monsieur?"
"Why, something like five thousand livres, monseigneur."
"For arrears of pay?"
"For a quarter's pay."
"A quarter consisting of five thousand livres!" said Fouquet, fixing upon the musketeer a searching look. "Does the king, then, give you twenty thousand livres a year?"
"Yes, monseigneur, twenty thousand livres a year. Do you think it is too much?"
"I?" cried Fouquet, and he smiled bitterly. "If I had any knowledge of mankind, if I were--instead of being a frivolous, inconsequent, and vain spirit--of a prudent and reflective spirit; if, in a word, I had, as certain persons have known how, regulated my life, you would not receive twenty thousand livres a year, but a hundred thousand, and you would belong not to the king but to me."
D'Artagnan colored slightly. There is sometimes in the manner in which a eulogium is given, in the voice, in the affectionate tone, a poison so sweet, that the strongest mind is intoxicated by it. The superintendent terminated his speech by opening a drawer, and taking from it four rouleaux, which he placed before D'Artagnan. The Gascon opened one. "Gold!" said he.
"It will be less burdensome, monsieur."
"But, then, monsieur, these make twenty thousand livres."
"No doubt they do."
"But only five are due to me."
"I wish to spare you the trouble of coming four times to my office."
"You overwhelm me, monsieur."
"I do only what I ought to do, monsieur le chevalier; and I hope you will not bear me any malice on account of the rude reception my brother gave you. He is of a sour, capricious disposition."
"Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "believe me, nothing would grieve me more than an excuse from you."
"Therefore I will make no more, and will content myself with asking you a favor."
"Oh, monsieur."
Fouquet drew from his finger a ring worth about three thousand pistoles. "Monsieur," said he, "this stone was given me by a friend of my childhood, by a man to whom you have rendered a great service."
"A service--I?" said the musketeer; "I have rendered a service to one of your friends?"