“Impossible—you—a favorite of the minister!” “A favorite! no, indeed!” cried D’Artagnan. “Ah, my poor friend! I am just as poor a Gascon as when I saw you at Meung, twenty-two years ago, you know; alas!” and he concluded his speech with a deep sigh. “Nevertheless, you come as one in authority.” “Because I happened to be in the ante-chamber when the cardinal called me, by the merest chance. I am still a lieutenant in the musketeers and have been so these twenty years.” “Then no misfortune has happened to you?” “And what misfortune could happen to me? To quote some Latin verses I have forgotten, or rather, never knew well, ‘the thunderbolt never falls on the valleys,’ and I am a valley, dear Rochefort,—one of the lowliest of the low.” “Then Mazarin is still Mazarin?” “The same as ever, my friend; it is said that he is married to the queen.” “Married?” “If not her husband, he is unquestionably her lover.” “You surprise me. Rebuff Buckingham and consent to Mazarin!” “Just like the women,” replied D’Artagnan, coolly. “Like women, not like queens.” “Egad! queens are the weakest of their sex, when it comes to such things as these.” “And M. de Beaufort—is he still in prison?” “Yes. Why?” “Oh, nothing, but that he might get me out of this, if he were favorably inclined to me.” “You are probably nearer freedom than he is, so it will be your business to get him out.” “And,” said the prisoner, “what talk is there of war with Spain?” “With Spain, no,” answered D’Artagnan; “but Paris.” “What do you mean?” cried Rochefort. “Do you hear the guns, pray? The citizens are amusing themselves in the meantime.” “And you—do you really think that anything could be done with these _bourgeois?_” “Yes, they might do well if they had any leader to unite them in one body.” “How miserable not to be free!” “Don’t be downcast. Since Mazarin has sent for you, it is because he wants you. I congratulate you! Many a long year has passed since any one has wanted to employ _me;_ so you see in what a situation _I_ am.” “Make your complaints known; that’s my advice.” “Listen, Rochefort; let us make a compact. We are friends, are we not?” “Egad! I bear the traces of our friendship—three slits or slashes from your sword.” “Well, if you should be restored to favor, don’t forget me.” “On the honor of a Rochefort; but you must do the like for me.” “There’s my hand,—I promise.” “Therefore, whenever you find any opportunity of saying something in my behalf——” “I shall say it, and you?” “I shall do the same.” “Apropos, are we to speak of your friends also, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis? or have you forgotten them?” “Almost.” “What has become of them?” “I don’t know; we separated, as you know. They are alive, that’s all that I can say about them; from time to time I hear of them indirectly, but in what part of the world they are, devil take me if I know, No, on my honor, I have not a friend in the world but you, Rochefort.”