“And you, Monsieur D’Artagnan, what do you want?”
“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “it is twenty years since Cardinal de Richelieu made me lieutenant.”
“Yes, and you would be gratified if Cardinal Mazarin should make you captain.”
D’Artagnan bowed.
“Well, that is not impossible. We will see, gentlemen, we will see. Now, Monsieur de Vallon,” said Mazarin, “what service do you prefer, in the town or in the country?”
Porthos opened his mouth to reply.
“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “Monsieur de Vallon is like me, he prefers service extraordinary—that is to say, enterprises that are considered mad and impossible.”
That boastfulness was not displeasing to Mazarin; he fell into meditation.
“And yet,” he said, “I must admit that I sent for you to appoint you to quiet service; I have certain apprehensions—well, what is the meaning of that?”
In fact, a great noise was heard in the ante-chamber; at the same time the door of the study was burst open and a man, covered with dust, rushed into it, exclaiming: