desire he might have to keep it religiously, he was awakened
in the middle of the night by a loud noise of carriages, and
servants on horseback. A sudden illumination flashed over
the walls of his chamber; he jumped out of bed and ran to
the window in his shirt. "Can the king be coming this way?"
he thought, rubbing his eyes; "in truth, such a suite can
only be attached to royalty."

"Vive monsieur le surintendant!" cried, or rather
vociferated, from a window on the ground-floor, a voice
which he recognized as Bazin's, who at the same time waved a
handkerchief with one hand, and held a large candle in the
other. D'Artagnan then saw something like a brilliant human
form leaning out of the principal carriage; at the same time
loud bursts of laughter, caused, no doubt, by the strange
figure of Bazin, and issuing from the same carriage, left,
as it were, a train of joy upon the passage of the rapid
cortege.

"I might easily see it was not the king," said D'Artagnan;
"people don't laugh so heartily when the king passes. Hola,
Bazin!" cried he to his neighbor, three-quarters of whose
body still hung out of the window, to follow the carriage
with his eyes as long as he could. "What is all that about?"

"It is M. Fouquet," said Bazin, in a patronizing tone.

"And all those people?"

"That is the court of M. Fouquet."