He is of a sour, capricious disposition." "Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "believe me, nothing would grieve me more than an excuse from you." "Therefore I will make no more, and will content myself with asking you a favor." "Oh, monsieur." Fouquet drew from his finger a ring worth about three thousand pistoles.
"Monsieur," said he, "this stone was given me by a friend of my childhood, by a man to whom you have rendered a great service." "A service--I ?" said the musketeer; "I have rendered a service to one of your friends ?" "You cannot have forgotten it, monsieur, for it dates this very day." "And that friend's name was--" "M.

d'Eymeris." "One of the condemned ?" "Yes, one of the victims.

Well! Monsieur d'Artagnan, in return for the service you have rendered him, I beg you to accept this diamond.

Do so for my sake." "Monsieur! you--" "Accept it, I say.

To-day is with me a day of mourning; hereafter you will, perhaps, learn why; to-day I have lost one friend; well, I will try to get another." "But, Monsieur Fouquet--" "Adieu! Monsieur d'Artagnan, adieu!" cried Fouquet, with much emotion; "or rather, _au revoir_." And the minister quitted the cabinet, leaving in the hands of the musketeer the ring and the twenty thousand livres.
"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, after a moment's dark reflection.