"And the Comte de la Fere is a great soldier, say you?"

"Sire, he is a man who has drawn his sword more times for the king, your
father, than there are, at present, months in the happy life of your
majesty."

It was Louis XIV. who now bit his lip.

"That is well, M. d'Artagnan, very well! And M. le Comte de la Fere is
your friend, say you?"

"For about forty years; yes, sire. Your majesty may see that I do not
speak to you of yesterday."

"Should you be glad to see this young man, M. d'Artagnan?"

"Delighted, sire."

The king touched his bell, and an usher appeared. "Call M. de
Bragelonne," said the king.

"Ah! ah! he is here?" said D'Artagnan.

"He is on guard to-day, at the Louvre, with the company of the gentlemen
of monsieur le prince."

The king had scarcely ceased speaking, when Raoul presented himself, and,
on seeing D'Artagnan, smiled on him with that charming smile which is
only found upon the lips of youth.