tendant told me, 'If Percerin refuse, tell him that it will not at all lower him in my opinion, and I shall always esteem him, only———'"
"'Only?'" repeated Percerin, rather troubled.
"'Only,'" continued Aramis, 'I shall be compelled to say to the king'—you understand, my dear Monsieur Percerin, that these are Monsieur Fouquet's words—'I shall be constrained to say to the king. Sire, I had intended to present your majesty with your portrait, but owing to a feeling of delicacy, slightly exaggerated perhaps, although creditable, Monsieur Percerin opposed the project.'"
"Opposed!" cried the tailor, terrified at the responsibility which would weigh upon him; "I to oppose the desire, the will of Monsieur Fouquet when he is seeking to please the king! Oh, what a hateful word you have uttered, monseigneur. Oppose! Oh, 'tis not I who said it. Heaven have mercy on me! I call the captain of the musketeers to witness it! Is it not true. Monsieur d'Artagnan, that I have opposed nothing?"
D'Artagnan made a sign, indicating that he wished to remain neutral. He felt that there was an intrigue at the bottom of it, whether comedy or tragedy; he was at his wits' end at not being able to fathom it, but in the meanwhile wished to keep clear.
But already Percerin, goaded by the idea that the king should be told he stood in the way of a pleasant surprise, had offered Lebrun a chair, and proceeded to bring from a wardrobe four magnificent dresses, the fifth being still in the workmen's hands; and these masterpieces he successively fitted upon four lay figures, which, imported into France in the time of Concini, had been given to Percerin II. by Marshal d'Onoro, after the discomfiture of the Italian tailors, ruined in their competition. The painter set to work to draw and then to paint the dress. But Aramis, who was closely watching all the phases of his toil, suddenly stopped him.
"I think you have not quite got it, my dear Lebrun," he said; "your colors will deceive you, and on canvas we shall lack that exact resemblance which is absolutely requisite. Time is necessary for attentively observing the finer shades."
"Quite true," said Percerin, "but time is wanting, and on that head, you will agree with me, monseigneur, I can do nothing."
"Then the affair will fail," said Aramis quietly, "and that because of a want of precision in the colors."
