“Absolutely is not the word,” said Philippe; “I do not want him so particularly as that; but if he can be found—”
“I thought so,” said D’Artagnan to himself.
“Is this M. d’Herblay the bishop of Vannes?”
“Yes, madame.”
“A friend of M. Fouquet?”
“Yes, madame; an old musketeer.”
Anne of Austria blushed.
“One of the four braves who formerly performed such prodigies.”
The old queen repented of having wished to bite; she broke off the conversation, in order to preserve the rest of her teeth. “Whatever may be your choice, sire,” said she, “I have no doubt it will be excellent.”
All bowed in support of that sentiment.