Fouquet, you shall hear from me.

Be good enough to desire M.d'Artagnan to come here." But the blood of Louis XIV., who had so profoundly dissimulated his feelings, boiled in his veins; and he was perfectly willing to order M.Fouquet to be put an end to with the same readiness, indeed, as his predecessor had caused the assassination of le Marechal d'Ancre; and so he disguised the terrible resolution he had formed beneath one of those royal smiles which, like lightning-flashes, indicated _coups d'etat_.
Fouquet took the king's hand and kissed it; Louis shuddered throughout his whole frame, but allowed M.Fouquet to touch his hand with his lips.
Five minutes afterwards, D'Artagnan, to whom the royal order had been communicated, entered Louis XIV.'s apartment.

Aramis and Philippe were in theirs, still eagerly attentive, and still listening with all their ears.

The king did not even give the captain of the musketeers time to approach his armchair, but ran forward to meet him.

"Take care," he exclaimed, "that no one enters here." "Very good, sire," replied the captain, whose glance had for a long time past analyzed the stormy indications on the royal countenance.