“Monsieur!” said Colbert, “here is in this pocket-book which you will study, a plan of campaign you will have to lead a body of troops to carry out in the next spring.” [12]
D’Artagnan took the book, tremblingly, and his fingers meeting those of Colbert, the minister pressed the hand of the musketeer loyally.
“Monsieur,” said he, “we had both a revenge to take, one over the other. I have begun; it is now your turn!”
“I will do you justice, monsieur,” replied D’Artagnan, “and implore you to tell the king that the first opportunity that shall offer, he may depend upon a victory, or to behold me dead—or both.”
“Then I will have the fleurs-de-lis for your marechal’s baton prepared immediately,” said Colbert.
On the morrow, Aramis, who was setting out for Madrid, to negotiate the neutrality of Spain, came to embrace D’Artagnan at his hotel.
“Let us love each other for four,” said D’Artagnan. “We are now but two.”
“And you will, perhaps, never see me again, dear D’Artagnan,” said Aramis; “if you knew how I have loved you! I am old, I am extinct—ah, I am almost dead.”
“My friend,” said D’Artagnan, “you will live longer than I shall: diplomacy commands you to live; but, for my part, honor condemns me to die.”
“Bah! such men as we are, monsieur le marechal,” said Aramis, “only die satisfied with joy in glory.”