"He is the very image of his father," continued the latter, in is secret soliloquy, "he is at once proud, avaricious, and timid.

The devil take his master, say I." The king stopped.

"Lieutenant," said he.
"I am here, sire." "Why did you cry out this evening, down below in the _salons_--'The king's service! His majesty's musketeers!'" "Because you gave me the order, sire." "I ?" "Yourself." "Indeed, I did not say a word, monsieur." "Sire, an order is given by a sign, by a gesture, by a glance, as intelligibly, as freely, and as clearly as by word of mouth.

A servant who has nothing but ears is not half a good servant." "Your eyes are very penetrating, then, monsieur." "How is that, sire ?" "Because they see what is not." "My eyes are good, though, sire, although they have served their master long and much: when they have anything to see, they seldom miss the opportunity.

Now, this evening, they saw that your majesty colored with endeavoring to conceal the inclination to yawn, that your majesty looked with eloquent supplications, first to his eminence, and then at her majesty, the queen-mother, and at length to the entrance door, and they so thoroughly remarked all I have said, that they saw your majesty's lips articulate these words: 'Who will get me out of this ?'" "Monsieur!" "Or something to this effect, sire--'My musketeers!' I could then no longer hesitate.