is a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least my
dispensations." And he rubbed his hands.

"Decidedly," said D'Artagnan to himself, "there will be no
means of uprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin."

"With pleasure, monsieur."

"A fowl, a bouillon, and a bottle of wine."

"This is Saturday, monsieur -- it is a day of abstinence."

"I have a dispensation," said D'Artagnan.

Bazin looked at him suspiciously.

"Ah, ah, master hypocrite!" said the musketeer, "for whom do
you take me? If you, who are the valet, hope for
dispensation to commit a crime, shall not I, the friend of
your bishop, have dispensation for eating meat at the call
of my stomach? Make yourself agreeable with me, Bazin, or,
by heavens! I will complain to the king, and you shall never
confess. Now you know that the nomination of bishops rests
with the king -- I have the king, I am the stronger."

Bazin smiled hypocritically. "Ah, but we have monsieur le
surintendant," said he.

"And you laugh at the king, then?"