“Oh! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet have wanted me. But how is it, Bazin, you do not follow your master?”
“Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations.”
“Your alphabet?”
“And my penitents.”
“What, do you confess, then? Are you a priest?”
“The same as one. I have such a call.”
“But the orders?”
“Oh,” said Bazin, without hesitation, “now that monseigneur is a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least my dispensations.” And he rubbed his hands.
“Decidedly,” said D’Artagnan to himself, “there will be no means of uprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin.”
“With pleasure, monsieur.”