Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part one

“Adieu, M. Vanel! Present my humblest respects to Madame Vanel,” said Fouquet, as he rose; upon which Vanel, who felt the blood rushing up to his head, for he was quite confounded by his success, said seriously to the superintendent, “Will you give me your word, Monseigneur, upon this affair?”

Fouquet turned round his head, saying, “Pardieu! and you, Monsieur?”

Vanel hesitated, trembled all over, and at last finished by hesitatingly holding out his hand. Fouquet opened and nobly extended his own. This loyal hand lay for a moment in Vanel’s moist, hypocritical palm; and he pressed it in his own, in order the better to convince himself. The superintendent gently disengaged his hand, as he again said, “Adieu.” Vanel then ran hastily to the door, hurried along the vestibules, and fled.

Chapter VIII: Madame de Belliere’s Plate and Diamonds

HARDLY had Fouquet dismissed Vanel than he began to reflect for a few moments: “A man never can do too much for the woman he has once loved. Marguerite wishes to be the wife of a procureur-general, and why not confer this pleasure upon her? And now that the most scrupulous and sensitive conscience will be unable to reproach me with anything, let my thoughts be bestowed on the woman who loves me. Madame de Belliere ought to be there by this time”; and he turned towards the secret door.

After Fouquet had locked himself in, he opened the subterranean passage, and rapidly hastened towards the means of communicating between the house at Vincennes and his own residence. He had neglected to apprise his friend of his approach by ringing the bell, perfectly assured that she would never fail to be exact at the rendezvous. In fact, the marchioness had arrived, and was waiting. The noise the superintendent made aroused her; she ran to take from under the door the letter which he had thrust there, and which simply said, “Come, Marchioness; we are waiting supper for you.” With her heart filled with happiness, Madame de Belliere ran to her carriage in the Avenue de Vincennes; in a few minutes she was holding out her hand to Gourville, who was standing at the entrance, where, in order the better to please his master, he had stationed himself to watch her arrival. She had not observed that Fouquet’s black horses had arrived at the same time, smoking and covered with foam, having returned to St. Mande with Pellisson and the very jeweller to whom Madame de Belliere had sold her plate and her jewels. Pellisson introduced the goldsmith into the cabinet, which Fouquet had not yet left. The superintendent thanked him for having been good enough to regard as a simple deposit in his hands the valuable property which he had had every right to sell. He cast his eyes on the total of the account, which amounted to thirteen hundred thousand livres. Then, going to his desk, he wrote an order for fourteen hundred thousand livres, payable at sight, at his treasury, before twelve o’clock the next day.

“A hundred thousand livres’ profit! cried the goldsmith. “Oh, Monseigneur, what generosity!”

“Nay, nay, not so, Monsieur,” said Fouquet, touching him on the shoulder; “there are certain kindnesses which can never be repaid. The profit is about that which you would have made, but the interest of your money still remains to be arranged”; and saying this, he unfastened from his sleeve a diamond button, which the goldsmith himself had often valued at three thousand pistoles. “Take this,” he said to the goldsmith, “in remembrance of me; and farewell! You are an honest man.”

“And you, Monseigneur,” cried the goldsmith, completely overcome, “are a grand nobleman!”

Fouquet let the worthy goldsmith pass out of the room by a secret door, and then went to receive Madame de Belliere, who was already surrounded by all the guests. The marchioness was always beautiful, but now her loveliness was dazzling.

“Do you not think, gentlemen,” said Fouquet, “that Madame is incomparably beautiful this evening? And do you happen to know why?”

“Because Madame is the most beautiful of women,” said some one.

“No; but because she is the best. And yet-”

“Yet?” said the marchioness, smiling.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *