"I am about to fall," interrupted Fouquet. "That is true, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan."
"I did not say so."
"But you thought so; and that is the same thing. Well! if I fall, take my word as truth, I shall not pass a single day without saying to myself, as I strike my brow, 'Fool! fool!—stupid mortal! You had a Monsieur d'Artagnan under your eye and hand, and you did not employ him, you did not enrich him!'"
"You quite overwhelm me," said the captain. "I esteem you greatly."
"There exists another man, then, who does not think as M. Colbert does," said the surintendant.
"How this M. Colbert slicks in your stomach! He is worse than your fever!"
"Oh! I have good cause," said Fouquet. "Judge for yourself." And he related the details of the course of the lighters, and the hypocritical persecution of Colbert. "Is not this a clear sign of my ruin?"
D'Artagnan became serious. "That is true," said he. "Yes: that has a bad odor, as M. de Treville used to say." And he fixed upon M. Fouquet his intelligent and significant look.
"Am I not clearly designated in that, captain? Is not the king bringing me to Nantes to get me away from Paris, where I have so many creatures, and to possess himself of Belle-Isle?"
"Where M. d'Herblay is," added D'Artagnan. Fouquet raised his head. "As for me, monseigneur," continued D'Artagnan, "I can assure you the king has said nothing to me against you."