For a man who had seen so many much more dangerous ones, theposition of D'Artagnan with respect to M. Colbert was onlycomic. D'Artagnan, therefore, did not deny himself thesatisfaction of laughing at the expense of monsieurl'intendant, from the Rue des Petits-Champs to the Rue desLombards. It was a great while since D'Artagnan had laughedso long together. He was still laughing when Planchetappeared, laughing likewise, at the door of his house; forPlanchet, since the return of his patron, since the entranceof the English guineas, passed the greater part of his lifein doing what D'Artagnan had only done from Rue-Neuve desPetits-Champs to the Rue des Lombards.

"You are home, then, my dear master?" said Planchet.

"No, my friend," replied the musketeer, "I am off and thatquickly. I will sup with you, go to bed, sleep five hours,and at break of day leap into my saddle. Has my horse had anextra feed?"

"Eh! my dear master," replied Planchet, "you know very wellthat your horse is the jewel of the family; that my lads arecaressing it all day, and cramming it with sugar, nuts, andbiscuits. You ask me if he has had an extra feed of oats;you should ask if he has not had enough to burst him."

"Very well, Planchet, that is all right. Now, then, I passto what concerns me - my supper?"

"Ready. A smoking roast joint, white wine, crayfish andfresh-gathered cherries. All ready, my master."

"You are a capital fellow, Planchet; come on, then, let ussup, and I will go to bed."

During supper D'Artagnan observed that Planchet kept rubbinghis forehead, as if to facilitate the issue of some ideaclosely pent within his brain. He looked with an air ofkindness at this worthy companion of former adventures andmisadventures, and, clinking glass against glass, "Come,Planchet," said he, "let us see what it is that gives you somuch trouble to bring forth. Mordioux! Speak freely, andquickly."

"Well, this is it," replied Planchet: "you appear to me tobe going on some expedition or other."

"I don't say that I am not."

"Then you have some new idea?"

"That is possible, too, Planchet."

"Then there will be fresh capital to be ventured? I will laydown fifty thousand livres upon the idea you are about tocarry out." And so saying, Planchet rubbed his hands oneagainst the other with a rapidity evincing great delight.

"Planchet," said D'Artagnan, "there is but one misfortune init."

"And what is that?"

"That the idea is not mine. I can risk nothing upon it."

These words drew a deep sigh from the heart of Planchet.That Avarice is an ardent counselor; she carries away herman, as Satan did Jesus, to the mountain, and when once shehas shown to an unfortunate all the kingdoms of the earth,she is able to repose herself, knowing full well that shehas left her companion, Envy, to gnaw his heart. Planchethad tasted of riches easily acquired, and was neverafterwards likely to stop in his desires; but, as he had agood heart in spite of his covetousness, as he adoredD'Artagnan, he could not refrain from making him a thousandrecommendations, each more affectionate than the others. Hewould not have been sorry, nevertheless, to have caught alittle hint of the secret his master concealed so well;tricks, turns, counsels and traps were all useless,D'Artagnan let nothing confidential escape him. The eveningpassed thus. After supper the portmanteau occupiedD'Artagnan, he took a turn to the stable, patted his horse,and examined his shoes and legs, then, having counted overhis money, he went to bed, sleeping as if only twenty,because he had neither inquietude nor remorse; he closed hiseyes five minutes after he had blown out his lamp. Manyevents might, however, have kept him awake. Thought boiledin his brain, conjectures abounded, and D'Artagnan was agreat drawer of horoscopes; but, with that imperturbablephlegm which does more than genius for the fortune andhappiness of men of action, he put off reflection till thenext day, for fear, he said, not to be fresh when he wantedto be so.

The day came. The Rue des Lombards had its share of thecaresses of Aurora with the rosy fingers, and D'Artagnanarose like Aurora. He did not awaken anybody, he placed hisportmanteau under his arm, descended the stairs withoutmaking one of them creak and without disturbing one of thesonorous snorings in every story from the garret to thecellar, then, having saddled his horse, shut the stable andhouse doors, he set off, at a foot-pace, on his expeditionto Bretagne. He had done quite right not to trouble himselfwith all the political and diplomatic affairs whichsolicited his attention; for, in the morning, in freshnessand mild twilight, his ideas developed themselves in purityand abundance. In the first place, he passed before thehouse of Fouquet, and threw in a large gaping box thefortunate order which, the evening before, he had had somuch trouble to recover from the hooked fingers of theintendant. Placed in an envelope, and addressed to Fouquet,it had not even been divined by Planchet, who in divinationwas equal to Calchas or the Pythian Apollo. D'Artagnan thussent back the order to Fouquet, without compromisinghimself, and without having thenceforward any reproaches tomake himself. When he had effected this proper restitution,"Now," said he to himself, "let us inhale much maternal air,much freedom from cares, much health, let us allow the horseZephyr, whose flanks puff as if he had to respire anatmosphere to breathe, and let us be very ingenious in ourlittle calculations. It is time," said D'Artagnan, "to forma plan of the campaign, and, according to the method of M.Turenne, who has a large head full of all sorts of goodcounsels, before the plan of the campaign it is advisable todraw a striking portrait of the generals to whom we areopposed. In the first place, M. Fouquet presents himself.What is M. Fouquet? M. Fouquet," replied D'Artagnan tohimself, "is a handsome man, very much beloved by the women,a generous man very much beloved by the poets; a man of wit,much execrated by pretenders. Well, now I am neither woman,poet, nor pretender: I neither love nor hate monsieur lesurintendant. I find myself, therefore, in the same positionin which M. de Turenne found himself when opposed to thePrince de Conde at Jargeau, Gien and the FaubourgSaint-Antoine. He did not execrate monsieur le prince, it istrue, but he obeyed the king. Monsieur le prince is anagreeable man, but the king is king. Turenne heaved a deepsigh, called Conde `My cousin,' and swept away his army. Nowwhat does the king wish? That does not concern me. Now, whatdoes M. Colbert wish? Oh, that's another thing. M. Colbertwishes all that M. Fouquet does not wish. Then what does M.Fouquet wish? Oh, that is serious. M. Fouquet wishesprecisely for all which the king wishes."

This monologue ended, D'Artagnan began to laugh, whilstmaking his whip whistle in the air. He was already on thehigh road, frightening the birds in the hedges, listening tothe livres chinking and dancing in his leather pocket, atevery step; and, let us confess it, every time thatD'Artagnan found himself in such conditions tenderness wasnot his dominant vice. "Come," said he, "I cannot think theexpedition a very dangerous one; and it will fall out withmy voyage as with that piece M. Monk took me to see inLondon, which was called, I think, `Much Ado aboutNothing.'"