But he found, in the vestibule of the palace, the _valet de chambre_, who closed his passage, while smiling upon him with a stupid air.
"Monseigneur ?" cried D'Artagnan, endeavoring to put him aside with his hand.

Moved for an instant the valet resumed his station.
"Monseigneur ?" said he.
"Yes, to be sure; do you not know me, _imbecile ?_" "Yes; you are the Chevalier d'Artagnan." "Then let me pass." "It is of no use." "Why of no use ?" "Because His Greatness is not at home." "What! His Greatness is not at home?
where is he, then ?" "Gone." "Gone ?" "Yes." "Whither ?" "I don't know; but perhaps he tells monsieur le chevalier." "And how?
where?
in what fashion ?" "In this letter, which he gave me for monsieur le chevalier." And the _valet de chambre_ drew a letter form his pocket.
"Give it me, then, you rascal," said D'Artagnan, snatching it from his hand.

"Oh, yes," continued he, at the first line, "yes, I understand;" and he read:-- "Dear Friend,--An affair of the most urgent nature calls me to a distant parish of my diocese.

I hoped to see you again before I set out; but I lose that hope in thinking that you are going, no doubt, to remain two or three days at Belle-Isle, with our dear Porthos.

Amuse yourself as well as you can; but do not attempt to hold out against him at table.
This is a counsel I might have given even to Athos, in his most brilliant and best days.