“Well， sire， for once he found his master.”
“I should like to see this young man， Tréville—I should like to see him； and if anything can be done—well， we will make it our business to do it.”
“When will your Majesty deign to receive him？”
“To-morrow at midday， Tréville.”
“Shall I bring him alone？”
“No， bring me all four together； I wish to thank them all at once. Devoted men are so rare， Tréville， we must recompense devotion.”
“At twelve o’clock， sire， we will be at the Louvre.”
“Ah！ by the back staircase， Tréville， by the back staircase. It is useless to let the cardinal know.”
“Yes， sire.”
“You understand， Tréville； an edict is still an edict； it is forbidden to fight， after all.”
“But this encounter， sire， is quite out of the ordinary conditions of a duel. It is a brawl； and the proof is that there were five of the cardinal’s guards against my three musketeers and M. d’Artagnan.”
“That is true，” said the king； “but never mind， Tréville； come anyway by the back staircase.”
Tréville smiled. But as it was already something to have prevailed upon this child to rebel against his master， he saluted the king respectfully， and with this agreement took leave of him.
That evening the three musketeers were informed of the honour which was bestowed upon them. As they had long been acquainted with the king， they were not much excited by the circumstance； but D’Artagnan， with his Gascon imagination， saw in it his future fortune， and passed the night in golden dreams.
M. de Tréville had ordered his three musketeers and their companion to be with him at half-past six in the morning. He took them with him， without assuring them or promising them anything.
When they had reached the foot of the back stairs he desired them to wait.
Ten minutes had scarcely passed away when the door of the king’s closet opened， and M. de Tréville saw the king advancing to the door.—“Ah！ that’s you， Tréville. Where are your musketeers？ I told you to bring them with you. Why have you not done so？”
“They are below， sire； and with your permission La Chesnaye will tell them to come up.”“Yes， yes， let them come up immediately. It is nearly eight o’clock， and at nine I expect a visit. Come in， Tréville.”
At that moment the three musketeers and D’Artagnan， led by La Chesnaye， the King’s valet appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Come in， my braves，” said the king， “come in； I have a scolding for you.”
“Therefore， sire， your Majesty sees that they are come quite contrite and repentant to offer you their excuses.”
“Quite contrite and repentant！ Hem！” said the king， “I place no confidence in their hypocritical faces. In particular， there is one yonder with a Gascon face.—Come here， sir.”
D’Artagnan， who understood that it was to him this compliment was addressed， approached， assuming a most despondent air.
“Why， you told me he was a young man！ This is a boy， Tréville， a mere boy！ Do you mean to say that it was he who bestowed that severe thrust upon Jussac？”
“Without reckoning，” said Athos， “that if he had not rescued me from the hands of Cahusac， I should not now have the honour of making my very humble reverence to your Majesty.”
“Why， this Béarnais is a very devil！ Ventre-saint-gris！ Monsieur de Tréville， as the king my father would have said. But at this sort of work many doublets must be slashed and many swords broken. But Gascons are always poor， are they not？”
“Sire， I must say that they have not yet discovered any gold mines in their mountains； though the Lord owes them this miracle in recompense for the manner in which they supported the claims of the king， your father.”
“Which means that the Gascons made a king of me myself， seeing that I am my father’s son， does it not， Tréville？ Well， in good faith， I don’t say nay to it.—La Chesnaye， go and see if， by rummaging all my pockets， you can find forty pistoles； and if you find them bring them to me.—And now let us see， young man， with your hand upon your conscience， how did all this come to pass？”
D’Artagnan related the adventure in all its details.
“This is all very well，” murmured the king. “But that’s quite enough， gentlemen； please to understand that’s enough. You have taken your revenge and you ought to be satisfied.”
“If your Majesty is，” said Tréville， “we are.”
“Oh yes， I am，” added the king， taking a handful of gold from La Chesnaye and putting it into the hand of D’Artagnan. “Here，” said he， “is a proof of my satisfaction.”
At this period the ideas of pride which are in fashion in our days did not prevail. A gentleman received money directly from the king’s hand， and was not in the least humiliated. D’Artagnan put his forty pistoles into his pocket without any scruple； on the contrary， he thanked his Majesty most heartily.“There，” said the king， looking at a clock—“there now， as it is half-past eight， you may retire； for， as I told you， I expect some one at nine. Thanks for your devotion， gentlemen. I may continue to rely upon it， may I not？”
“O sire！” cried the four companions with one voice， “we would allow ourselves to be cut to pieces in your Majesty’s service！”
“Well， well， but keep whole； that will be better， and you will be more useful to me. Tréville，” added the king in a low voice， as the others were retiring， “as you have no room in your musketeers， and as we have besides decided that a novitiate is necessary before entering that corps， place this young man in the company of guards commanded by your brother-in-law， M. des Essarts. Ah， zounds！ I enjoy in advance the face the cardinal will make. He will be furious； but I don’t care. I am doing what is right.”
And the king waved his hand to Tréville， who left him and rejoined the musketeers， whom he found sharing the forty pistoles with D’Artagnan.
And the cardinal， as his Majesty had said， was really furious， so furious that for a whole week he absented himself from the king’s card-table， which did not prevent the king from being as complacent to him as possible， or， whenever he met him， from asking in the kindest tone，
“Well， cardinal， how fares it with that poor Jussac of yours？”
