“There is in the world, then, one man who, having the power to ask, asks—nothing!”
“There is the Comte de la Fere, madame. The Comte de la Fere is not a man.”
“What is he, then?”
“The Comte de la Fere is a demi-god.”
“Has he not a son, a young man, a relative, a nephew, of whom Comminges spoke to me as being a brave boy, and who, with Monsieur de Chatillon, brought the standards from Lens?”
“He has, as your majesty has said, a ward, who is called the Vicomte de Bragelonne.”
“If that young man should be appointed to a regiment what would his guardian say?”
“Perhaps he would accept.”
“Perhaps?”
“Yes, if your majesty herself should beg him to accept.”