"Then I will have the fleurs-de-lis for your maréchal's bâton prepared immediately," said Colbert.
On the morrow of this day, Aramis, who was setting out for Madrid, to negotiate the neutrality of Spain, came to embrace D'Artagnan at his hotel.
"Let us love each other for four," said D'Artagnan, "we are now but two."
"And you will, perhaps, never see me again, dear D'Artagnan," said Aramis;—"if you knew how I have loved you! I am old, I am extinguished, I am dead."
"My friend," said D'Artagnan, "you will live longer than I shall; diplomacy commands you to live; but, for my part, honor condemns me to die."
"Bah! such men as we are, Monsieur le Maréchal," said Aramis, "only die satiated with joy or glory."
"Ah!" replied D'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, "I assure, you, Monsieur le Duc, I feel very little appetite for either."
They once more embraced, and, two hours after, they were separated.