“What commission is this you give me, and what do you charge me to tell his majesty, monsieur?  Be precise, if you please,” said Colbert, in a sharp voice, tuned beforehand to hostility.

“I give you no commission,” replied D’Artagnan, with that calmness which never abandons the banterer; “I thought it would be easy for you to announce to his majesty that it was I who, being there by chance, did justice upon Menneville and restored order to things.”

Colbert opened his eyes and interrogated the chief of the watch with a look — “Ah! it is very true,” said the latter, “that this gentleman saved us.”

“Why did you not tell me, monsieur, that you came to relate me this?” said Colbert with envy; “everything is explained, and more favorably for you than for anybody else.”

“You are in error, monsieur l’intendant, I did not at all come for the purpose of relating that to you.”

“It is an exploit, nevertheless.”

“Oh!” said the musketeer carelessly, “constant habit blunts the mind.”

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit, then?”

“Simply to this:  the king ordered me to come to you.”

“Ah!” said Colbert, recovering himself when he saw D’Artagnan draw a paper from his pocket; “it is to demand some money of me?”

“Precisely, monsieur.”

“Have the goodness to wait, if you please, monsieur, till I have dispatched the report of the watch.”

D’Artagnan turned upon his heel, insolently enough, and finding himself face to face with Colbert, after his first turn, he bowed to him as a harlequin would have done; then, after a second evolution, he directed his steps towards the door in quick time.  Colbert was struck with this pointed rudeness, to which he was not accustomed.  In general, men of the sword, when they came to his office, had such a want of money, that though their feet seemed to take root in the marble, they hardly lost their patience.  Was D’Artagnan going straight to the king?  Would he go and describe his rough reception, or recount his exploit?  This was a matter for grave consideration.  At all events, the moment was badly chosen to send D’Artagnan away, whether he came from the king, or on his own account.  The musketeer had rendered too great a service, and that too recently, for it to be already forgotten.  Therefore Colbert thought it would be better to shake off his arrogance and call D’Artagnan back.  “Ho!  Monsieur d’Artagnan,” cried Colbert, “what! are you leaving me thus?”

D’Artagnan turned round:  “Why not?” said he, quietly, “we have no more to say to each other, have we?”

“You have, at least, money to receive, as you have an order?”

“Who, I?  Oh! not at all, my dear Monsieur Colbert.”

“But, monsieur, you have an order.  And, in the same manner as you give a sword-thrust, when you are required, I, on my part, pay when an order is presented to me.  Present yours.”