majesty gave me a rendezvous for this morning.”

“Later, later,” said the king’s voice, from the bottom of the alcove; a voice which made a cold shudder pass through the musketeer’s veins. He bowed, amazed, confused, and stupefied by the smile with which Aramis seemed to overwhelm him, as soon as these words had been pronounced.

“And then,” continued the bishop, “as an answer to what you were coming to ask the king, my dear D’Artagnan, here is an order of his majesty, which you will be good enough to attend to forthwith, for it concerns M. Fouquet.”

D’Artagnan took the order which was held out to him. “To be set at liberty!” he murmured. “Ah!” and he uttered a second