D’Artagnan felt that he was called upon to open the conversation. The encounter he had come to seek would be rough; so he delicately approached the subject. “Well, and so we have come to Vaux,” he said.
“Why, yes, d’Artagnan. And how do you like the place?”
“Very much; and I like M. Fouquet also.”
“Is he not a charming host?”
“No one could be more so.”
“I am told that the King began by being very distant in his manner toward M. Fouquet, but that his Majesty became much more cordial afterwards.”
“You did not notice it, then, since you say you have been told so?”
“No; I was engaged with those gentlemen who have just left the room about the theatrical performances and the tournament which are to take place to-morrow.”
“Ah, indeed! you are the comptroller-general of the fetes here, then?”
“You know I am a friend of all kinds of amusement where the exercise of the imagination is required; I have always been a poet in one way or another.”
“Yes, I remember the verses you used to write; they were charming.”
“I have forgotten them; but I am delighted to read the verses of others, when those others are known by the names of Moliere, Pellisson, La Fontaine, etc.”
“Do you know what idea occurred to me this evening, Aramis?”
“No; tell me what it was, for I should never be able to guess it, you have so many.”
“Well, the idea occurred to me that the true King of France is not Louis XIV.”
“What!” said Aramis, involuntarily, looking at the musketeer full in the eyes.
“No; it is M. Fouquet.”
Aramis breathed again, and smiled. “Ah! you are like all the rest,- jealous,” he said. “I would wager that it was M. Colbert who turned that pretty phrase.”
D’Artagnan, in order to throw Aramis off his guard, related Colbert’s misadventures with regard to the vin de Melun.
“He comes of a mean race, does Colbert,” said Aramis.
“Quite true.”
“When I think, too,” added the bishop, “that that fellow will be your minister within four months, and that you will serve him as blindly as you did Richelieu or Mazarin-”
“And as you serve M. Fouquet,” said d’Artagnan.
“With this difference, though, that M. Fouquet is not M. Colbert.”
“True, true,” said d’Artagnan, as he pretended to become sad and full of reflection; and then, a moment after, he added, “Why do you tell me that M. Colbert will be minister in four months?”
“Because M. Fouquet will have ceased to be so,” replied Aramis.
“He will be ruined, you mean?” said d’Artagnan.
“Completely so.”
“Why does he give these fetes, then?” said the musketeer, in a tone so full of thoughtful consideration, so natural, that the bishop was for the moment deceived by it. “Why did you not dissuade him from it?”
The latter part of the sentence was just a little too much, and Aramis’s former suspicions were again aroused. “It is done with the object of humoring the King.”
“By ruining himself?”
“Yes, by ruining himself for the King.”
“A singular calculation that!”
“Necessity.”
“I don’t see that, dear Aramis.”
“Do you not? Have you not remarked M. Colbert’s daily increasing antagonism, and that he is doing his utmost to drive the King to get rid of the superintendent?”
“One must be blind not to see it.”
“And that a cabal is formed against M. Fouquet?”
“That is well known.”
“What likelihood is there that the King would join a party formed against a man who will have spent everything he had to please him?”
“True, true,” said d’Artagnan slowly, hardly convinced, yet curious- to broach another phase of the conversation. “There are follies and follies,” he resumed; “and I do not like those you are committing.”
“To what do you allude?”
“As for the banquet, the ball, the concert, the theatricals, the tournaments, the cascades, the fireworks, the illuminations, and the presents,- these are all well and good, I grant; but why were not these expenses sufficient? Was it necessary to refurnish the entire house?”
“You are quite right. I told M. Fouquet that myself. He replied, that if he were rich enough he would offer the King a chateau new from the vanes at the top of the house to the very cellar, completely new inside and out; and that as soon as the King had left, he would burn the whole building and its contents, in order that it might not be made use of by any one else.”