“You want a pretext, do you not? I comprehend. Well, you have this excuse: advancement, the opening campaign, the opportunity which I offer you⁠—so much for the world. As regards yourself, the need of protection; for it is fit you should know, M. d’Artagnan, that I have received heavy and serious complaints against you. You do not consecrate your days and nights wholly to the king’s service.”

D’Artagnan colored.

“In fact,” said the cardinal, placing his hand upon a bundle of papers, “I have here a whole pile which concerns you. I know you to be a man of resolution; and your services, well directed, instead of leading you to ill, might be very advantageous to you. Come; reflect, and decide.”

“Your goodness confounds me, monseigneur,” replied d’Artagnan, “and I am conscious of a greatness of soul in your Eminence that makes me mean as an earthworm; but since Monseigneur permits me to speak freely⁠—”