“But myself, sire,” said the duke.
“You, monsieur, you will only speak to him in the presence of the musketeers.” The duke bowed and departed to execute his commission.
D’Artagnan was about to retire likewise; but the king stopped him.
“Monsieur,” said he, “you will go immediately, and take possession of the isle and fief of Belle-Ile-en-Mer.”
“Yes, sire. Alone?”
“You will take a sufficient number of troops to prevent delay, in case the place should be contumacious.”
A murmur of courtly incredulity rose from the group of courtiers. “That shall be done,” said D’Artagnan.
“I saw the place in my infancy,” resumed the king, “and I do not wish to see it again. You have heard me? Go, monsieur, and do not return without the keys.”
Colbert went up to D’Artagnan. “A commission which, if you carry it out well,” said he, “will be worth a marechal’s baton to you.”
“Why do you employ the words, ‘if you carry it out well’?”