List Of Contents | Contents of Ten Years Later, by Alexandre Dumas, Pere
< < Previous Page     Next Page > >

the morning; every one must have returned to the king's apartments, where
the night is to be finished; well, the scent is lost, and unless some
extraordinary chance - "  And thus saying, as if to appeal to his good
star, the chevalier, greatly out of temper, approached the window, which
looked out upon a somewhat solitary part of the garden.  Immediately, and
as if some evil genius was at his orders, he perceived returning towards
the chateau, accompanied by a man, a silk mantle of a dark color, and
recognized the figure which had struck his attention half an hour

"Admirable!" he thought, striking his hands together, "this is my
providential mysterious affair."  And he started out precipitately, along
the staircase, hoping to reach the courtyard in time to recognize the
woman in the mantle, and her companion.  But as he arrived at the door of
the little court, he nearly knocked against Madame, whose radiant face
seemed full of charming revelations beneath the mantle which protected
without concealing her.  Unfortunately, Madame was alone.  The chevalier
knew that since he had seen her, not five minutes before, with a
gentleman, the gentleman in question could not be far off.  Consequently,
he hardly took time to salute the princess as he drew up to allow her to
pass; then when she had advanced a few steps, with the rapidity of a
woman who fears recognition, and when the chevalier perceived that she
was too much occupied with her own thoughts to trouble herself about him,
he darted into the garden, looked hastily round on every side, and
embraced within his glance as much of the horizon as he possibly could.
He was just in time; the gentleman who had accompanied Madame was still
in sight; only he was hurrying towards one of the wings of the chateau,
behind which he was on the point of disappearing.  There was not an
instant to lose; the chevalier darted in pursuit of him, prepared to
slacken his pace as he approached the unknown; but in spite of the
diligence he used, the unknown had disappeared behind the flight of steps
before he approached.

It was evident, however, that as the man pursued was walking quietly, in
a pensive manner, with his head bent down, either beneath the weight of
grief or happiness, when once the angle was passed, unless, indeed, he
were to enter by some door or another, the chevalier could not fail to
overtake him.  And this, certainly, would have happened, if, at the very
moment he turned the angle, the chevalier had not run against two
persons, who were themselves wheeling in the opposite direction.  The
chevalier was ready to seek a quarrel with these two troublesome
intruders, when, looking up, he recognized the superintendent.  Fouquet
was accompanied by a person whom the chevalier now saw for the first
time.  This stranger was the bishop of Vannes.  Checked by the important
character of the individual, and obliged out of politeness to make his
own excuses when he expected to receive them, the chevalier stepped back
a few paces; and as Monsieur Fouquet possessed, if not the friendship, at
least the respect of every one; as the king himself, although he was
rather his enemy than his friend, treated M. Fouquet as a man of great
consideration, the chevalier did what the king himself would have done,
namely, he bowed to M. Fouquet, who returned his salutation with kindly
politeness, perceiving that the gentleman had run against him by mistake
and without any intention of being rude.  Then, almost immediately
afterwards, having recognized the Chevalier de Lorraine, he made a few
civil remarks, to which the chevalier was obliged to reply.  Brief as the
conversation was, De Lorraine saw, with the most unfeigned displeasure,
the figure of his unknown becoming dimmer in the distance, and fast
disappearing in the darkness.  The chevalier resigned himself, and, once
resigned, gave his entire attention to Fouquet: - "You arrive late,
monsieur," he said.  "Your absence has occasioned great surprise, and I
heard Monsieur express himself as much astonished that, having been
invited by the king, you had not come."

"It was impossible for me to do so; but I came as soon as I was free."

"Is Paris quiet?"

"Perfectly so.  Paris has received the last tax very well."

"Ah!  I understand you wished to assure yourself of this good feeling
before you came to participate in our _fetes_."

I have arrived, however, somewhat late to enjoy them.  I will ask you,
therefore, to inform me if the king is in the chateau or not, if I am
likely to be able to see him this evening, or if I shall have to wait
until to-morrow."

"We have lost sight of his majesty during the last half-hour nearly,"
said the chevalier.

"Perhaps he is in Madame's apartments?" inquired Fouquet.

"Not in Madame's apartments, I should think, for I just now met Madame as
she was entering by the small staircase; and unless the gentleman whom
you a moment ago encountered was the king himself - " and the chevalier
paused, hoping that, in this manner, he might learn who it was he had
been hurrying after.  But Fouquet, whether he had or had not recognized
De Guiche, simply replied, "No, monsieur, it was not the king."

The chevalier, disappointed in his expectation, saluted them; but as he
did so, casting a parting glance around him, and perceiving M. Colbert in
the center of a group, he said to the superintendent: "Stay, monsieur;
there is some one under the trees yonder, who will be able to inform you
better than myself."

"Who?" asked Fouquet, whose near-sightedness prevented him from seeing
through the darkness.

"M. Colbert," returned the chevalier.

"Indeed!  That person, then, who is speaking yonder to those men with
torches in their hands, is M. Colbert?"

"M. Colbert himself.  He is giving orders personally to the workmen who
are arranging the lamps for the illuminations."

"Thank you," said Fouquet, with an inclination of the head, which
indicated that he had obtained all the information he wished.  The
chevalier, on his side, having, on the contrary, learned nothing at all,
withdrew with a profound salutation.

He had scarcely left when Fouquet, knitting his brows, fell into a deep
reverie.  Aramis looked at him for a moment with a mingled feeling of
compassion and silence.

"What!" he said to him, "the fellow's name alone seemed to affect you.
Is it possible that, full of triumph and delight as you were just now,
the sight merely of that man is capable of dispiriting you?  Tell me,
have you faith in your good star?"

"No," replied Fouquet, dejectedly.

"Why not?"

"Because I am too full of happiness at this present moment," he replied,
in a trembling voice.  "You, my dear D'Herblay, who are so learned, will
remember the history of a certain tyrant of Samos.  What can I throw into
the sea to avert approaching evil?  Yes! I repeat it once more, I am too
full of happiness! so happy that I wish for nothing beyond what I
have...  I have risen so high...  You know my motto: '_Quo non
ascendam?_'  I have risen so high that nothing is left me but to descend
from my elevation.  I cannot believe in the progress of a success already
more than human."

Aramis smiled as he fixed his kind and penetrating glance upon him.  "If
I were aware of the cause of your happiness," he said, "I should probably
fear for your grace; but you regard me in the light of a true friend; I
mean, you turn to me in misfortune, nothing more.  Even that is an
immense and precious boon, I know; but the truth is, I have a just right
to beg you to confide in me, from time to time, any fortunate
circumstances that befall you, in which I should rejoice, you know, more
than if they had befallen myself."

"My dear prelate," said Fouquet, laughing, "my secrets are of too profane
a character to confide them to a bishop, however great a worldling he may

"Bah! in confession."

"Oh! I should blush too much if you were my confessor."  And Fouquet
began to sigh.  Aramis again looked at him without further betrayal of
his thoughts than a placid smile.

"Well," he said, "discretion is a great virtue."

"Silence," said Fouquet; "yonder venomous reptile has recognized us, and
is crawling this way."


"Yes; leave me, D'Herblay; I do not wish that fellow to see you with me,
or he will take an aversion to _you_."

Aramis pressed his hand, saying, "What need have I of his friendship,
while you are here?"

"Yes, but I may not always be here," replied Fouquet, dejectedly.

"On that day, then, if that day should ever dawn," said Aramis,
tranquilly, "we will think over a means of dispensing with the
friendship, or of braving the dislike of M. Colbert.  But tell me, my
dear Fouquet, instead of conversing with this reptile, as you did him the
honor of styling him, a conversation the need for which I do not
perceive, why do you not pay a visit, if not to the king, at least to

"To Madame," said the superintendent, his mind occupied by his
_souvenirs_.  "Yes, certainly, to Madame. "

"You remember," continued Aramis, "that we have been told that Madame
stands high in favor during the last two or three days.  It enters into
your policy, and forms part of our plans, that you should assiduously
devote yourself to his majesty's friends.  It is a means of counteracting
the growing influence of M. Colbert.  Present yourself, therefore, as
soon as possible to Madame, and, for our sakes, treat this ally with

"But," said Fouquet, "are you quite sure that it is upon her that the
king has his eyes fixed at the present moment?"

"If the needle has turned, it must be since the morning.  You know I have
my police."

"Very well!  I will go there at once, and, at all events, I shall have a
means of introduction in the shape of a magnificent pair of antique
cameos set with diamonds."

"I have seen them, and nothing could be more costly and regal."

At this moment they were interrupted by a servant followed by a courier.
"For you, monseigneur," said the courier aloud, presenting a letter to

< < Previous Page     Next Page > >

Other sites: