“My God! what has happened?” said some one to him.
Fouquet opened his right hand, which was clinched, humid, and displayed a paper, upon which Pelisson cast a terrified glance. He read the following lines, written by the King’s hand:-
“DEAR AND WELL-BELOVED M. FOUQUET: Give us, upon that which you have left of ours, the sum of seven hundred thousand livres, of which we stand in need to prepare for our departure.
“And as we know that your health is not good, we pray God to restore you to health, and to have you in his holy keeping.
“LOUIS.
“The present letter is to serve as a receipt.”
A murmur of terror circulated through the apartment.
“Well,” cried Pelisson, in his turn, “you have received that letter?”
“Received it,- yes!”
“What will you do, then?”
“Nothing, since I have received it.”
“But-”
“If I have received it, Pelisson, I have paid it,” said the superintendent, with a simplicity that went to the heart of all present.
“You have paid it!” cried Madame Fouquet. “Then we are ruined!”
“Come, no useless words!” interrupted Pelisson. “After money, life, Monseigneur; to horse! to horse!”
“What! leave us?” at once cried both the women, wild with grief.
“Eh, Monseigneur, in saving yourself you save us all. To horse!”
“But he cannot hold himself on. Look at him!”
“Oh, if he takes time to reflect-” said the intrepid Pelisson.
“He is right,” murmured Fouquet.
“Monseigneur! Monseigneur!” cried Gourville, rushing up the stairs four steps at once; “Monseigneur!”
“Well, what?”
“I escorted, as you desired, the King’s courier with the money.”
“Yes.”
“Well; when I arrived at the Palais-Royal, I saw-”
“Take breath, my poor friend, take breath; you are suffocating.”
“What did you see?” cried the impatient friends.
“I saw the Musketeers mounting on horseback,” said Gourville.
“There, then!” cried all voices at once; “is there an instant to be lost?”
Madame Fouquet rushed downstairs, calling for her horses; Madame de Belliere flew after her catching her in her arms, and saying, “Madame, in the name of his safety, do not betray anything, do not manifest any alarm.”
Pelisson ran to have the horses put to the carriages; and in the mean time, Gourville gathered in his hat all that the weeping friends were able to throw into it of gold and silver,- the last offering, the pious alms made to misfortune by poverty. The superintendent, dragged along by some, carried by others, was shut up in his carriage. Gourville took the reins, and mounted the box. Pelisson supported Madame Fouquet, who had fainted. Madame de Belliere had more strength, and was well paid for it; she received Fouquet’s last kiss. Pelisson easily explained this precipitate departure by saying that an order from the King had summoned the minister to Nantes.
Chapter LXIV: In the Carriage of M. Colbert
AS GOURVILLE had seen, the King’s Musketeers were mounting and following their captain. The latter, who did not like to be confined in his proceedings, left his brigade under the orders of a lieutenant, and set off upon post-horses, recommending his men to use all diligence. However rapidly they might travel, they could not arrive before him. He had time, in passing along the Rue des Petits-Champs, to see a thing which afforded him much food for thought. He saw M. Colbert coming out from his house to get into a carriage which was stationed before the door. In this carriage d’Artagnan perceived the hoods of two women, and being rather curious, he wished to know the names of the women concealed beneath these hoods. To get a glimpse at them, for they kept themselves closely covered up, he urged his horse so near to the carriage that he drove him against the step with such force as to give a shock to the entire equipage and those whom it contained. The terrified women uttered, the one a faint cry, by which d’Artagnan recognized a young woman, the other an imprecation, by which he recognized the vigor and self-possession which half a century bestows. The hoods were thrown back; one of the women was Madame Vanel, the other was the Duchesse de Chevreuse. D’Artagnan’s eyes were quicker than those of the ladies; he had seen and known them, while they did not recognize him. And as they laughed at their fright, pressing each other’s hands, “Humph!” said d’Artagnan, “the old duchess is not more difficult in her friendships than she was formerly. She pays court to the mistress of M. Colbert! Poor M. Fouquet! that presages you nothing good!”