“Dear?

yes,” said Aramis, playing upon the word, as the Abbe Terray did, at a later period, with Louis XV.

“Do not laugh, D’Herblay; I feel that, if he really seemed to wish it, I could love that young man.”

“You should not say that to me,” returned Aramis, “but rather to M. Colbert.”

“To M. Colbert!” exclaimed Fouquet. “Why so?”

“Because he would allow you a pension out of the king’s privy purse, as soon as he becomes surintendant,” said Aramis, preparing to leave as soon as he had dealt this last blow.

“Where are you going?” returned Fouquet, with a gloomy look.