“Charming, indeed, Monsieur the Superintendent, charming! You were very wrong not to come with us as I invited you to do.”
“I was working, Sire,” replied the superintendent, who did not take the trouble to turn aside his head even in recognition of Colbert’s presence.
“Ah! M. Fouquet,” cried the King, “there is nothing like the country. I should be delighted to live in the country always, in the open air and under the trees.”
“Oh! your Majesty is not yet weary of the throne, I trust?” said Fouquet.
“No; but thrones of soft turf are very delightful.”
“Your Majesty gratifies my utmost wishes in speaking in that manner, for I have a request to submit to you.”
“On whose behalf, Monsieur?”
“On behalf of the nymphs of Vaux, Sire.”
“Ah! ah!” said Louis XIV.
“Your Majesty once deigned to make me a promise,” said Fouquet.
“Yes, I remember it.”
“The fete at Vaux, the celebrated fete, is it not, Sire?” said Colbert, endeavoring to show his importance by taking part in the conversation.
Fouquet, with the profoundest contempt, did not take the slightest notice of the remark, as if, so far as he was concerned, Colbert had not spoken. “Your Majesty is aware,” he said, “that I destine my estate at Vaux to receive the most amiable of princes, the most powerful of monarchs.”
“I have given you my promise, Monsieur,” said Louis XIV, smiling; “and a King never departs from his word.”
“And I have come now, Sire, to inform your Majesty that I am ready to obey your orders in every respect.”
“Do you promise me many wonders, Monsieur the Superintendent?” said Louis, looking at Colbert.
“Wonders? Oh, no, Sire! I do not undertake that; but I hope to be able to procure your Majesty a little pleasure, perhaps even a little forgetfulness of the cares of State.”
“Nay, nay, M. Fouquet,” returned the King; “I insist upon the word ‘wonders.’ Oh, you are a magician! We know your power; we know that you could find gold, even were there none in the world. And, in fact, people say you make it.”
Fouquet felt that the shot was discharged from a double quiver, and that the King had launched an arrow from his own bow as well as one from Colbert’s. “Oh!” said he, laughingly, “the people know perfectly well out of what mine I procure the gold; they know it only too well, perhaps. Besides,” he added proudly, “I can assure your Majesty that the gold destined to pay the expenses of the fete at Vaux will cost neither blood nor tears; hard labor it may, perhaps. But that can be paid for.”
Louis remained silent; he wished to look at Colbert. Colbert, too, wished to reply; but a glance as swift as an eagle’s,- a proud, loyal, king-like glance, indeed,- which Fouquet darted at the latter, arrested the words upon his lips. The King, who had by this time recovered his self-possession, turned towards Fouquet, saying, “I presume, therefore, I am now to consider myself formally invited?”
“Yes, Sire, if it pleases your Majesty.”
“For what day?”
“Any day your Majesty may find most convenient.”
“You speak like an enchanter who improvises, M. Fouquet. I could not say so much, indeed.”
“Your Majesty will do, whenever you please, everything that a monarch can and ought to do. The King of France has servants at his bidding who are able to do anything on his behalf, to accomplish everything to gratify his pleasures.”
Colbert tried to look at the superintendent in order to see whether this remark was an approach to less hostile sentiments on his part. But Fouquet had not even looked at his enemy; so far as he was concerned, Colbert did not exist.
“Very good, then,” said the King; “will a week hence suit you?”
“Perfectly well, Sire.”
“This is Tuesday; if I give you until next Sunday week, will that be sufficient?”
“The delay which your Majesty deigns to accord me will greatly aid the various works which my architects have in hand for the purpose of adding to the amusement of your Majesty and your friends.”
“By the by, speaking of my friends,” resumed the King; “how do you intend to treat them?”