The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas (the beginning after the end novel read txt) đź“•
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- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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“What! M. d’Artagnan?” said Fouquet, who had already taken his right arm out of the sleeve of his doublet.
“At your service,” replied the musketeer.
“Come in, my dear M. d’Artagnan.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you come to criticise the fete? You are ingenious enough in your criticisms, I know.”
“By no means.”
“Are not your men looked after properly?”
“In every way.”
“You are not comfortably lodged, perhaps?”
“Nothing could be better.”
“In that case, I have to thank you for being so amiably disposed, and I must not fail to express my obligations to you for all your flattering kindness.”
These words were as much as to say, “My dear D’Artagnan, pray go to bed, since you have a bed to lie down on, and let me do the same.”
D’Artagnan did not seem to understand it.
“Are you going to bed already?” he said to the superintendent.
“Yes; have you anything to say to me?”
“Nothing, monsieur, nothing at all. You sleep in this room, then?”
“Yes; as you see.”
“You have given a most charming fete to the king.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh! beautiful!”
“Is the king pleased?”
“Enchanted.”
“Did he desire you to say as much to me?”
“He would not choose so unworthy a messenger, monseigneur.”
“You do not do yourself justice, Monsieur d’Artagnan.”
“Is that your bed, there?”
“Yes; but why do you ask? Are you not satisfied with your own?”
“My I speak frankly to you?”
“Most assuredly.”
“Well, then, I am not.”
Fouquet started; and then replied, “Will you take my room, Monsieur d’Artagnan?”
“What! deprive you of it, monseigneur? never!”
“What am I to do, then?”
“Allow me to share yours with you.”
Fouquet looked at the musketeer fixedly. “Ah! ah!” he said, “you have just left the king.”
“I have, monseigneur.”
“And the king wishes you to pass the night in my room?”
“Monseigneur—”
“Very well, Monsieur d’Artagnan, very well. You are the master here.”
“I assure you, monseigneur, that I do not wish to abuse—”
Fouquet turned to his valet, and said, “Leave us.” When the man had left, he said to D’Artagnan, “You have something to say to me?”
“I?”
“A man of your superior intelligence cannot have come to talk with a man like myself, at such an hour as the present, without grave motives.”
“Do not interrogate me.”
“On the contrary. What do you want with me?”
“Nothing more than the pleasure of your society.”
“Come into the garden, then,” said the superintendent suddenly, “or into the park.”
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