I have, nevertheless, thought of a recompense.

You were created by my father a Knight of the Garter--that is an order which all the kings of Europe cannot bear; by the queen regent, Knight of the Holy Ghost--which is an order not less illustrious; I join to it that of the Golden Fleece sent me by the king of France, to whom the king of Spain, his father-in-law, gave two on the occasion of his marriage; but in return, I have a service to ask of you." "Sire," said Athos, with confusion, "the Golden Fleece for me! when the king of France is the only person in my country who enjoys that distinction ?" "I wish you to be in your country and all others the equal of all those whom sovereigns have honored with their favor," said Charles, drawing the chain from his neck; "and I am sure, comte, my father smiles on me from his grave." "It is unaccountably strange," said D'Artagnan to himself, whilst his friend, on his knees, received the eminent order which the king conferred on him--"it is almost incredible that I have always seen showers of prosperity fall upon all who surrounded me, and that not a drop ever reached me! If I were a jealous man, it would be enough to make one tear one's hair, _parole d'honneur!_" Athos rose from his knees, and Charles embraced him tenderly.

"General!" said he to Monk--then stopping, with a smile, "pardon me, duke, I mean.
No wonder if I make a mistake; the word duke is too short for me, I always seek some title to lengthen it.

I should wish to see you so near my throne, that I might say to you, as to Louis XIV., my brother! Oh! I have it; and you will almost be my brother, for I make you viceroy of Ireland and Scotland, my dear duke.

So, after that fashion, henceforward I shall not make a mistake." The duke seized the hand of the king, but without enthusiasm, without joy, as he did everything.