"Oh," said Bazin, without hesitation, "now that monseigneur 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 night, 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?"