"To Nantes!" said he to himself, as he descended from the stairs.

"Why did he not dare to say, from thence to Belle-Isle ?" As he reached the great gates, one of M.Brienne's clerks came running after him, exclaiming, "Monsieur d'Artagnan! I beg your pardon--" "What is the matter, Monsieur Ariste ?" "The king has desired me to give you this order." "Upon your cash-box ?" asked the musketeer.
"No, monsieur; on that of M.Fouquet." D'Artagnan was surprised, but he took the order, which was in the king's own writing, and was for two hundred pistoles.

"What!" thought he, after having politely thanked M.Brienne's clerk, "M.

Fouquet is to pay for the journey, then! _Mordioux!_ that is a bit of pure Louis XI.

Why was not this order on the chest of M.Colbert?
He would have paid it with such joy." And D'Artagnan, faithful to his principle of never letting an order at sight get cold, went straight to the house of M.Fouquet, to receive his two hundred pistoles..