“Where to?”
“To M. Fouquet; I wish to be a witness of his delight.”
“Ah! Aramis, how you puzzled me just now!” said D’Artagnan again.
“But you understand now, I suppose?”
“Of course I understand,” he said aloud; but added in a low tone to himself, almost hissing the words between his teeth, “No, no, I do not understand yet. But it is all the same, for here is the order for it.” And then he added, “I will lead the way, monseigneur,” and he conducted Aramis to Fouquet’s apartments.
Chapter XXI. The King’s Friend.
Fouquet was waiting with anxiety; he had already sent away many of his servants and friends, who, anticipating the usual hour of his ordinary receptions, had called at his door to inquire after him. Preserving the utmost silence respecting the danger which hung suspended by a hair above his head, he only asked them, as he did every one, indeed, who came to the door, where Aramis was. When he saw D’Artagnan return, and when he perceived the bishop of Vannes behind him, he could hardly restrain his delight; it was fully equal to his previous uneasiness. The mere sight of Aramis was a complete compensation to the surintendant for the unhappiness he had undergone in his arrest. The prelate was silent and grave; D’Artagnan completely bewildered by such an accumulation of events.
“Well, captain, so you have brought M. d’Herblay to me.”
“And something better still, monseigneur.”
“What is that?”