“Is it not, with loss, too?” And Colbert laughed aloud. He was delighted with his own joke.
“Still further,” added he, “these same Dutch are building for the king, at this moment, six vessels after the model of the best of their name. Destouches—Ah! perhaps you don’t know Destouches?”
“No, monsieur.”
“He is a man who has a sure glance to discern, when a ship is launched, what are the defects and qualities of that ship—that is valuable, observe! Nature is truly whimsical. Well, this Destouches appeared to me to be a man likely to prove useful in marine affairs, and he is superintending the construction of six vessels of seventy-eight guns, which the Provinces are building for his majesty. It results from this, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan, that the king, if he wished to quarrel with the Provinces, would have a very pretty fleet. Now, you know better than anybody else if the land army is efficient.”
D’Artagnan and Aramis looked at each other, wondering at the mysterious labors this man had undertaken in so short a time. Colbert understood them, and was touched by this best of flatteries.
“If we, in France, were ignorant of what was going on,” said D’Artagnan, “out of France still less must be known.”
“That is why I told monsieur l’ambassadeur,” said Colbert, “that, Spain promising its neutrality, England helping us—”
“If England assists you,” said Aramis, “I promise the neutrality of Spain.”
“I take you at your word,” Colbert hastened to reply with his blunt bonhomie. “And, a propos of Spain, you have not the ‘Golden Fleece,’ Monsieur d’Almeda. I heard the king say the other day that he should like to see you wear the grand cordon of St. Michael.”
Aramis bowed. “Oh!” thought D’Artagnan, “and Porthos is no longer here! What ells of ribbons would there be for him in these largesses! Dear Porthos!”