"Madame Bonacieux is not at liberty this evening," replied the
husband, seriously; "she is detained at the Louvre this evening
by her duties."

"So much the worse for you, my dear host, so much the worse!
When I am happy, I wish all the world to be so; but it appears
that is not possible."

The young man departed, laughing at the joke, which he thought he
alone could comprehend.

"Amuse yourself well!" replied Bonacieux, in a sepulchral tone.

But d'Artagnan was too far off to hear him; and if he had heard
him in the disposition of mind he then enjoyed, he certainly
would not have remarked it.

He took his way toward the hotel of M. de Treville; his visit of
the day before, it is to be remembered, had been very short and
very little explicative.

He found Treville in a joyful mood. He had thought the king and
queen charming at the ball. It is true the cardinal had been
particularly ill-tempered. He had retired at one o'clock under
the pretense of being indisposed. As to their Majesties, they
did not return to the Louvre till six o'clock in the morning.

"Now," said Treville, lowering his voice, and looking into every
corner of the apartment to see if they were alone, "now let us
talk about yourself, my young friend; for it is evident that your
happy return has something to do with the joy of the king, the
triumph of the queen, and the humiliation of his Eminence. You
must look out for yourself."

"What have I to fear," replied d'Artagnan, "as long as I shall
have the luck to enjoy the favor of their Majesties?"

"Everything, believe me. The cardinal is not the man to forget a
mystification until he has settled account with the mystifier;
and the mystifier appears to me to have the air of being a
certain young Gascon of my acquaintance."

"Do you believe that the cardinal is as well posted as yourself,
and knows that I have been to London?"

"The devil! You have been to London! Was it from London you
brought that beautiful diamond that glitters on your finger?
Beware, my dear d'Artagnan! A present from an enemy is not a
good thing. Are there not some Latin verses upon that subject?
Stop!"

"Yes, doubtless," replied d'Artagnan, who had never been able to
cram the first rudiments of that language into his head, and who
had by his ignorance driven his master to despair, "yes,
doubtless there is one."

"There certainly is one," said M. de Treville, who had a tincture
of literature, "and Monsieur de Benserade was quoting it to me
the other day. Stop a minute--ah, this is it: 'Timeo Danaos et
dona ferentes,' which means, 'Beware of the enemy who makes you
presents."

"This diamond does not come from an enemy, monsieur," replied
d'Artagnan, "it comes from the queen."

"From the queen! Oh, oh!" said M. de Treville. "Why, it is
indeed a true royal jewel, which is worth a thousand pistoles if
it is worth a denier. By whom did the queen send you this
jewel?"

"She gave it to me herself."

"Where?"

"In the room adjoining the chamber in which she changed her
toilet."

"How?"

"Giving me her hand to kiss."

"You have kissed the queen's hand?" said M. de Treville, looking
earnestly at d'Artagnan.

"Her Majesty did me the honor to grant me that favor."

"And that in the presence of witnesses! Imprudent, thrice
imprudent!"

"No, monsieur, be satisfied; nobody saw her," replied d'Artagnan,
and he related to M. de Treville how the affair came to pass.

"Oh, the women, the women!" cried the old soldier. "I know them
by their romantic imagination. Everything that savors of mystery
charms them. So you have seen the arm, that was all. You would
meet the queen, and she would not know who you are?"

"No; but thanks to this diamond," replied the young man.

"Listen," said M. de Treville; "shall I give you counsel, good
counsel, the counsel of a friend?"

"You will do me honor, monsieur," said d'Artagnan.

"Well, then, off to the nearest goldsmith's, and sell that
diamond for the highest price you can get from him. However much
of a Jew he may be, he will give you at least eight hundred
pistoles. Pistoles have no name, young man, and that ring has a
terrible one, which may betray him who wears it."

"Sell this ring, a ring which comes from my sovereign? Never!"
said d'Artagnan.

"Then, at least turn the gem inside, you silly fellow; for
everybody must be aware that a cadet from Gascony does not find
such stones in his mother's jewel case."