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remained standing and examined this man.

D’Artagnan at first believed that he had to do with some judge examining his papers; but he perceived that the man at the desk wrote, or rather corrected, lines of unequal length, scanning the words on his fingers. He saw then that he was with a poet. At the end of an instant the poet closed his manuscript, upon the cover of which was written “Mirame, a Tragedy in Five Acts,” and raised his head.

D’Artagnan recognized the cardinal.

XL A Terrible Vision

The cardinal leaned his elbow on his manuscript, his cheek upon his hand, and looked intently at the young man for a moment. No one had a more searching eye than the Cardinal de Richelieu, and d’Artagnan felt this glance run through his veins like a fever.

He however kept a good countenance, holding his hat in his hand and awaiting the good pleasure of his Eminence, without too much assurance, but also without too much humility.

“Monsieur,” said the cardinal, “are you a d’Artagnan from BĂ©arn?”

“Yes, monseigneur,” replied the young man.

“There are several branches of the d’Artagnans at Tarbes and in its environs,” said the cardinal; “to which do you belong?”

“I am the son of him who served in the Religious Wars under the great King Henry, the father of his gracious Majesty.”

“That is well. It is you who set out seven or eight months ago from your country to seek your fortune in the capital?”

“Yes, monseigneur.”

“You came through Meung, where something befell you. I don’t very well know what, but still something.”

“Monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan, “this was what happened to me⁠—”

“Never mind, never mind!” resumed the cardinal, with a smile which indicated that he knew the story as well as he who wished to relate it. “You were recommended to M. de TrĂ©ville, were you not?”

“Yes, monseigneur; but in that unfortunate affair at Meung⁠—”

“The letter was lost,” replied his Eminence; “yes, I know that. But M. de TrĂ©ville is a skilled physiognomist, who knows men at first sight; and he placed you in the company of his brother-in-law, M. des Essart, leaving you to hope that one day or other you should enter the musketeers.”

“Monseigneur is correctly informed,” said d’Artagnan.

“Since that time many things have happened to you. You were walking one day behind the Chartreux, when it would have been better if you had been elsewhere. Then you took with your friends a journey to the waters of Forges; they stopped on the road, but you continued yours. That is all very simple: you had business in England.”

“Monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan, quite confused, “I went⁠—”

“Hunting at Windsor, or elsewhere⁠—that concerns nobody. I know, because it is my office to know everything. On your return you were received by an august personage, and I perceive with pleasure that you preserve the souvenir she gave you.”

D’Artagnan placed his hand upon the queen’s diamond, which he wore, and quickly turned the stone inward; but it was too late.

“The day after that, you received a visit from Cavois,” resumed the cardinal. “He went to desire you to come to the palace. You have not returned that visit, and you were wrong.”

“Monseigneur, I feared I had incurred disgrace with your Eminence.”

“How could that be, Monsieur? Could you incur my displeasure by having followed the orders of your superiors with more intelligence and courage than another would have done? It is the people who do not obey that I punish, and not those who, like you, obey⁠—but too well. As a proof, remember the date of the day on which I had you bidden to come to me, and seek in your memory for what happened to you that very night.”

That was the very evening when the abduction of Madame Bonacieux took place. D’Artagnan trembled; and he likewise recollected that during the past half hour the poor woman had passed close to him, without doubt carried away by the same power that had caused her disappearance.

“In short,” continued the cardinal, “as I have heard nothing of you for some time past, I wished to know what you were doing. Besides, you owe me some thanks. You must yourself have remarked how much you have been considered in all the circumstances.”

D’Artagnan bowed with respect.

“That,” continued the cardinal, “arose not only from a feeling of natural equity, but likewise from a plan I have marked out with respect to you.”

D’Artagnan became more and more astonished.

“I wished to explain this plan to you on the day you received my first invitation; but you did not come. Fortunately, nothing is lost by this delay, and you are now about to hear it. Sit down there, before me, d’Artagnan; you are gentleman enough not to listen standing.” And the cardinal pointed with his finger to a chair for the young man, who was so astonished at what was passing that he awaited a second sign from his interlocutor before he obeyed.

“You are brave, M. d’Artagnan,” continued his Eminence; “you are prudent, which is still better. I like men of head and heart. Don’t be afraid,” said he, smiling. “By men of heart I mean men of courage. But young as you are, and scarcely entering into the world, you have powerful enemies; if you do not take great heed, they will destroy you.”

“Alas, monseigneur!” replied the young man, “very easily, no doubt, for they are strong and well supported, while I am alone.”

“Yes, that’s true; but alone as you are, you have done much already, and will do still more, I don’t doubt. Yet you have need, I believe, to be guided in the adventurous career you have undertaken; for, if I mistake not, you came to Paris with the ambitious idea of making your fortune.”

“I am at the age of extravagant hopes, monseigneur,” said d’Artagnan.

“There are no extravagant hopes but for fools, Monsieur, and you are a man of understanding. Now, what would you say to an ensign’s commission in my Guards, and a company after the campaign?”

“Ah, monseigneur.”

“You accept it, do you not?”

“Monseigneur,” replied

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