lifetime to men like yourself, and the chief thing is, to take it gracefully when the chance presents itself. There is a Latin proverb — the words have escaped me, but I remember the sense of it very well, for I have thought over it more than once — which says, ‘The end crowns the work!

’“

Fouquet rose from his seat, passed his arm round D’Artagnan’s neck, and clasped him in a close embrace, whilst with the other hand he pressed his hand. “An excellent homily,” he said, after a moment’s pause.

“A soldier’s, monseigneur.”

“You have a regard for me, in telling me all that.”

“Perhaps.”