“I have the honor to inform your Majesty,” continued M. de Tréville, in the same tone, “that a party of _procureurs_, commissaries, and men of the police—very estimable people, but very inveterate, as it appears, against the uniform—have taken upon themselves to arrest in a house, to lead away through the open street, and throw into Fort l’Evêque, all upon an order which they have refused to show me, one of my, or rather your Musketeers, sire, of irreproachable conduct, of an almost illustrious reputation, and whom your Majesty knows favorably, Monsieur Athos.” “Athos,” said the king, mechanically; “yes, certainly I know that name.” “Let your Majesty remember,” said Tréville, “that Monsieur Athos is the Musketeer who, in the annoying duel which you are acquainted with, had the misfortune to wound Monsieur de Cahusac so seriously. _A propos_, monseigneur,” continued Tréville, addressing the cardinal, “Monsieur de Cahusac is quite recovered, is he not?” “Thank you,” said the cardinal, biting his lips with anger. “Athos, then, went to pay a visit to one of his friends absent at the time,” continued Tréville, “to a young Béarnais, a cadet in his Majesty’s Guards, the company of Monsieur Dessessart, but scarcely had he arrived at his friend’s and taken up a book, while waiting his return, when a mixed crowd of bailiffs and soldiers came and laid siege to the house, broke open several doors—” The cardinal made the king a sign, which signified, “That was on account of the affair about which I spoke to you.” “We all know that,” interrupted the king; “for all that was done for our service.” “Then,” said Tréville, “it was also for your Majesty’s service that one of my Musketeers, who was innocent, has been seized, that he has been placed between two guards like a malefactor, and that this gallant man, who has ten times shed his blood in your Majesty’s service and is ready to shed it again, has been paraded through the midst of an insolent populace?” “Bah!” said the king, who began to be shaken, “was it so managed?” “Monsieur de Tréville,” said the cardinal, with the greatest phlegm, “does not tell your Majesty that this innocent Musketeer, this gallant man, had only an hour before attacked, sword in hand, four commissaries of inquiry, who were delegated by myself to examine into an affair of the highest importance.” “I defy your Eminence to prove it,” cried Tréville, with his Gascon freedom and military frankness; “for one hour before, Monsieur Athos, who, I will confide it to your Majesty, is really a man of the highest quality, did me the honor after having dined with me to be conversing in the saloon of my hôtel, with the Duc de la Trémouille and the Comte de Châlus, who happened to be there.” The king looked at the cardinal.