"Monseigneur," implied D'Artagnan, "I only come to you in the king's name to demand payment of an order for two hundred pistoles."
The clouds passed from every brow but that of Fouquet, which still remained overcast.
"Ah! then," said he, "perhaps you are also setting out for Nantes?"
"I do not know whither I am setting out for, monseigneur."
"But," said Madame Fouquet, recovered from her fright, "you are not going so soon, Monsieur le Capitaine, as not to do us the honor to take a seat with us?"
"Madame, I should esteem that a great honor done to me, but I am so pressed for time, that, you see, I have been obliged to permit myself to interrupt your repast to procure payment of my note."
"The reply to which shall be gold," said Fouquet, making a sign to his intendant, who went out with the order which D'Artagnan handed to him.
"Oh!" said the latter, "I was not uneasy about the payment; the house is good."
A painful smile passed over the pale features of Fouquet.
"Are you in pain?" asked Madame de Belliere.