"I see, I see! You restore me to life again."
"So much the better. Go and tell Monsieur Fouquet very simply that you wish to speak to Monsieur d'Herblay."
"Of course, of course!" exclaimed Baisemeaux delightedly.
"But," said D'Artagnan, checking him by a severe look, "your word of honor."
"I give you my sacred word of honor," replied the little man, about to set off running.
"Where are you going?"
"To Monsieur Fouquet's house."
"It is useless doing that; Monsieur Fouquet is playing at cards with the king. All you can do is to pay Monsieur Fouquet a visit early to-morrow morning."
"I will do so. Thank you."
"Good luck attend you," said D'Artagnan.
"Thank you."
"This is a strange affair!" murmured D'Artagnan, as he slowly ascended the staircase after he had left Baisemeaux. "What possible interest can Aramis have in obliging Baisemeaux in this manner? Well, I suppose we shall learn some day or another."
CHAPTER XXII.
The king's card-table.
Fouquet was present, as D'Artagnan had said, at the king's card-table. It seemed as if Buckingham's departure had shed a balm upon all the ulcerated hearts of the previous evening. Monsieur, radiant with delight, made a thousand affectionate signs to his mother. The Count de Guiche could not separate himself from Buckingham, and while playing, conversed with him upon the circumstance of his projected voyage. Buckingham, thoughtful, and kind in his manner, like a man who has adopted a resolution, listened to the count, and from time to time cast a look full of regret and hopeless affliction at madame. The princess, in the midst of her elation of spirits, divided her attention between the king, who was playing with her. Monsieur, who quietly joked her about her enormous winnings, and De Guiche, who exhibited an extravagant delight. Of Buckingham she took but little notice, for her, this fugitive, this exile, was now simply a remembrance,
