“Oh, a mere trifle,- six letters, as I have already told you, from M. de Mazarin; and the autographs will most assuredly not be regarded as too costly, if they establish in an irrefutable manner that M. Fouquet has embezzled large sums of money from the treasury and appropriated them to his own purposes.”
“In an irrefutable manner, do you say?” observed Colbert, whose eyes sparkled with delight.
“Irrefutable; would you like to read the letters?”
“With all my heart! Copies, of course?”
“Of course, the copies,” said the duchess, as she drew from her bosom a small packet of papers flattened by her velvet bodice. “Read!” she said.
Colbert eagerly snatched the papers and devoured them.
“Wonderful!” he said.
“It is clear enough, is it not?”
“Yes, Madame, yes. M. Mazarin must have handed the money to M. Fouquet, who must have kept it for his own purposes; but the question is, what money?”
“Exactly,- what money; if we come to terms, I will join to these six letters a seventh, which will supply you with the fullest particulars.”
Colbert reflected. “And the originals of these letters?”
“A useless question to ask; exactly as if I were to ask you, M. Colbert, whether the money-bags you will give me will be full or empty.”
“Very good, Madame.”
“Is it concluded?”
“No; for there is one circumstance to which neither of us has given any attention.”
“Name it!”
“M. Fouquet can be utterly ruined, under the circumstances you have detailed, only by means of legal proceedings.”
“Well?”
“A public scandal.”
“Yes, what then?”
“Neither the legal proceedings nor the scandal can be begun against him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he is procureur-general of the parliament; because, too, in France, the government, the army, the courts of law, and commerce are intimately connected by ties of good-will, which people call esprit de corps. So, Madame, the parliament will never permit its chief to be dragged before a public tribunal; and never, even if he be dragged there by royal authority, never will he be condemned.”
“Ah! ma foi! M. Colbert, that doesn’t concern me.”
“I am aware of that, Madame; but it concerns me, and it consequently diminishes the value of what you have brought to me. Of what use to bring me a proof of crime, without the possibility of condemnation?”
“Even if he be only suspected, M. Fouquet will lose his post of superintendent.”
“That would be a great achievement!” exclaimed Colbert, whose dark, gloomy features were momentarily lighted up by an expression of hate and vengeance.
“Ah, ah! M. Colbert,” said the duchess, “forgive me, but I did not think you were so impressionable. Very good; in that case, since you need more than I have to give you, there is no occasion to speak of the matter further.”
“Yes, Madame, we will go on talking of it; only, as the value of your commodities has decreased, you must lower your price.”
“You are bargaining, then?”
“Every man who wishes to deal loyally is obliged to do so.”
“How much will you offer me?”
“Two hundred thousand livres,” said Colbert.
The duchess laughed in his face, and then said suddenly, “Wait a moment, I have another arrangement to propose; will you give me three hundred thousand livres?”
“No, no.”
“Oh, you can either accept or refuse my terms; besides, that is not all.”
“More still? You are becoming too impracticable to deal with, Madame.”
“Less so than you think, perhaps, for it is not money I am going to ask you for.”
“What is it, then?”
“A service. You know that I have always been most affectionately attached to the Queen, and I am desirous of having an interview with her Majesty.”
“With the Queen?”
“Yes, M. Colbert, with the Queen, who is, I admit, no longer my friend, and who has ceased to be so for a long time past, but who may again become so if the opportunity be only given her.”
“Her Majesty has ceased to receive any one, Madame. She is a great sufferer, and you may be aware that the paroxysms of her disease occur with greater frequency than ever.”
“That is the very reason why I wish to have an interview with her Majesty. In Flanders we have many diseases of that kind.”