“Good,” thought the Gascon, “he is frightened: I am safe.”
“Oh! as to the king,” said Monk, “fear nothing, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan; the king will not jest with Monk, I assure you!”
The momentary flash of his eye was noticed by D’Artagnan. Monk lowered his tone immediately: “The king,” continued he, “is of too noble a nature, the king’s heart is too high to allow him to wish ill to those who do him good.”
“Oh! certainly,” cried D’Artagnan. “I am entirely of your grace’s opinion with regard to his heart, but not as to his head—it is good, but it is trifling.”
“The king will not trifle with Monk, be assured.”
“Then you are quite at ease, my lord?”
“On that side, at least! yes, perfectly!”
“Oh! I understand you; you are at ease as far as the king is concerned?”
“I have told you I was.”
“But you are not so much so on my account?”