“And if they are not fortifying, sire?”

“You will travel about Bretagne, listening and judging.”

“Then I am a king’s spy?” said D’Artagnan, bluntly, twisting his mustache.

“No, monsieur.”

“Your pardon sire; I spy on your majesty’s account.”

“You start on a voyage of discovery, monsieur. Would you march at the head of your musketeers, with your sword in your hand, to observe any spot whatever, or an enemy’s position?”

At this word D’Artagnan started.

“Do you,” continued the king, “imagine yourself to be a spy?”