This movement did not escape Fouquet, who, full of nobleness and pride in his magnanimity, threw his sword to a distance from him, and approached Aramis so close as to touch his shoulder with his disarmed hand.
"Monsieur," he said, "I would sooner die here on the spot than survive this terrible disgrace; and if you have any pity left for me, I entreat you to take my life." Aramis remained silent and motionless.
"You do not reply ?" said Fouquet.
Aramis raised his head gently, and a glimmer of hope might be seen once more to animate his eyes.

"Reflect, monseigneur," he said, "upon everything we have to expect.

As the matter now stands, the king is still alive, and his imprisonment saves your life." "Yes," replied Fouquet, "you may have been acting on my behalf, but I will not, do not, accept your services.

But, first of all, I do not wish your ruin.

You will leave this house." Aramis stifled the exclamation which almost escaped his broken heart.
"I am hospitable towards all who are dwellers beneath my roof," continued Fouquet, with an air of inexpressible majesty; "you will not be more fatally lost than he whose ruin you have consummated." "You will be so," said Aramis, in a hoarse, prophetic voice, "you will be so, believe me." "I accept the augury, Monsieur d'Herblay; but nothing shall prevent me, nothing shall stop me.