“You overwhelm me,” said the captain. “I esteem you greatly.”
“There exists another man, then, who does not think as M. Colbert thinks,” said the surintendant.
“How this M. Colbert looms up in your imagination! He is worse than fever!”
“Oh! I have good cause,” said Fouquet. “Judge for yourself.” And he related the details of the course of the lighters, and the hypocritical persecution of Colbert. “Is not this a clear sign of my ruin?”
D’Artagnan became very serious. “That is true,” he said. “Yes; it has an unsavory odor, as M. de Treville used to say.” And he fixed on M. Fouquet his intelligent and significant look.
“Am I not clearly designated in that, captain? Is not the king bringing me to Nantes to get me away from Paris, where I have so many creatures, and to possess himself of Belle-Isle?”
“Where M. d’Herblay is,” added D’Artagnan. Fouquet raised his head. “As for me, monseigneur,” continued D’Artagnan, “I can assure you the king has said nothing to me against you.”
“Indeed!”
“The king commanded me to set out for Nantes, it is true; and to say nothing about it to M. de Gesvres.”
“My friend.”