Fouquet, for the purpose of his being sent to the Bastile.”

Aramis turned pale, and crushed the paper in his hands.

“What is it?” asked Porthos.

“Nothing, my friend, nothing.”

“Tell me, Jonathan?”

“Monseigneur?”

“Did you speak to M. d’Artagnan?”

“Yes, monseigneur.”

“What did he say to you?”

“That for ampler information, he would speak with monseigneur.”

“Where?”