“Well,” continued Mazarin, “the time has come to put to use your talents and your valor.”

There was a sudden gleam of joy in the officer’s eyes, which vanished immediately, for he knew nothing of Mazarin’s purpose.

“Order, my lord,” he said; “I am ready to obey your eminence.”

“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” continued the cardinal, “you performed sundry superb exploits in the last reign.”

“Your eminence is too good to remember such trifles in my favor.  It is true I fought with tolerable success.”

“I don’t speak of your warlike exploits, monsieur,” said Mazarin; “although they gained you much reputation, they were surpassed by others.”

D’Artagnan pretended astonishment.

“Well, you do not reply?” resumed Mazarin.

“I am waiting, my lord, till you tell me of what exploits you speak.”

“I speak of the adventure —­ Eh, you know well what I mean.”

“Alas, no, my lord!” replied D’Artagnan, surprised.

“You are discreet —­ so much the better.  I speak of that adventure in behalf of the queen, of the ornaments, of the journey you made with three of your friends.”

“Aha!” thought the Gascon; “is this a snare or not?  Let me be on my guard.”

And he assumed a look of stupidity which Mendori or Bellerose, two of the first actors of the day, might have envied.

“Bravo!” cried Mazarin; “they told me that you were the man I wanted.  Come, let us see what you will do for me.”

“Everything that your eminence may please to command me,” was the reply.

“You will do for me what you have done for the queen?”

“Certainly,” D’Artagnan said to himself, “he wishes to make me speak out.  He’s not more cunning than De Richelieu was!  Devil take him!” Then he said aloud: 

“The queen, my lord?  I don’t comprehend.”

“You don’t comprehend that I want you and your three friends to be of use to me?”

“Which of my friends, my lord?”

“Your three friends —­ the friends of former days.”

“Of former days, my lord!  In former days I had not only three friends, I had thirty; at two-and-twenty one calls every man one’s friend.”

“Well, sir,” returned Mazarin, “prudence is a fine thing, but to-day you might regret having been too prudent.”

“My lord, Pythagoras made his disciples keep silence for five years that they might learn to hold their tongues.”

“But you have been silent for twenty years, sir.  Speak, now the queen herself releases you from your promise.”

“The queen!” said D’Artagnan, with an astonishment which this time was not pretended.

“Yes, the queen!  And as a proof of what I say she commanded me to show you this diamond, which she thinks you know.”

And so saying, Mazarin extended his hand to the officer, who sighed as he recognized the ring so gracefully given to him by the queen on the night of the ball at the Hotel de Ville and which she had repurchased from Monsieur des Essarts.