D’Artagnan, after this broadside, quietly caressed his mustache; M.
Colbert’s large head seemed to become larger and larger than ever. D’Artagnan,
seeing how ugly anger made him, did not stop half-way. The orator still went on with his speech, while the king’s color was visibly increasing.
“ Mordioux! ” said the musketeer, coolly, “the king is going to have an attack
of determination of blood to the head. Where the deuce did you get hold of that
idea, Monsieur Colbert? You have no luck.”
“Monsieur,” said the financier, drawing himself up, “my zeal for the king’s
service inspired me with the idea.”
“Bah!”
“Monsieur, Melun is a city, an excellent city, which pays well, and which it
would be imprudent to displease.”
“There, now! I, who do not pretend to be a financier, saw only one
