“As faithful as a dog; but he bites sometimes. If d’Artagnan does not recognize you before the other has disappeared, rely upon d’Artagnan to the end of the world; for in that case, if he has seen nothing, he will keep his fidelity. If he sees, when it is too late, he is a Gascon, and will never admit that he has been deceived.”
“I thought so. What are we to do, now?”
“You will go and take up your post at our place of observation, and watch the moment of the King’s retiring to rest, so as to learn how that ceremony is performed.”
“Very good. Where shall I place myself?”
“Sit down on this folding-chair! I am going to push aside a portion of the flooring; you will look through the opening, which answers to one of the false windows made in the dome of the King’s apartment. Can you see?”
“Yes,” said Philippe, starting as at the sight of an enemy; “I see the King!”
“What is he doing?”
“He seems to wish some man to sit down close to him.”
“M. Fouquet!”
“No, no; wait a moment “The notes, my Prince, the portraits!”
“The man whom the King wishes to sit down in his presence is M. Colbert.”
“Colbert sit down in the King’s presence!” exclaimed Aramis; “it is impossible.”
“Look!”
Aramis looked through the opening in the flooring. “Yes,” he said, “Colbert himself! Oh, Monseigneur! what are we about to hear, and what can result from this intimacy?”
“Nothing good for M. Fouquet, at all events.”
The Prince was not mistaken.
We have seen that Louis XIV had sent for Colbert, and that Colbert had arrived. The conversation began between them by the King’s according to him one of the highest favors that he had ever given,- it is true that the King was alone with his subject,- “Colbert,” said he, “sit down!”
The intendant, overcome with delight, for he had feared he should be dismissed, refused this unprecedented honor.
“Does he accept?” said Aramis.
“No; he remains standing.”
“Let us listen, then”; and the future King and the future pope listened eagerly to the simple mortals whom they beheld under their feet in a position to crush them if they had liked.
“Colbert,” said the King, “you have annoyed me exceedingly to-day.”
“I know it, Sire.”
“Very good; I like that answer. Yes, you knew it, and there was courage in doing it.”
“I ran the risk of displeasing your Majesty, but I risked also concealing what were your true interests from you.”
“What! you were afraid of something on my account?”
“I was, Sire, even if it were of nothing more than an indigestion,” said Colbert; “for one does not give his King such banquets as that of to-day, except it be to stifle him under the weight of good living.”
Colbert awaited the effect of this coarse jest upon the King; and Louis XIV, who was the vainest and the most fastidiously delicate man in his kingdom, forgave Colbert his pleasantry. “The truth is,” he said, “that M. Fouquet has given me too good a meal. Tell me, Colbert, where does he get all the money required for this enormous expenditure,- can you tell?”
“Yes, I know, Sire.”
“You will show me?”
“Easily; to the very farthing.”
“I know you are very exact.”
“It is the principal qualification required in an intendant of finances.”
“But all are not so.”
“I thank your Majesty for a compliment so flattering from your lips.”
“M. Fouquet, then, is rich, very rich; and I suppose every man knows he is so.
“Every one, Sire,- the living as well as the dead.”
“What does that mean, M. Colbert?”
“The living are witnesses of M. Fouquet’s wealth,- they admire and applaud the result produced; but the dead, wiser than we, know its sources and they accuse him.”
“So that M. Fouquet owes his wealth to certain sources?”
“The occupation of an intendant very often favors those who engage in it.”
“You have something to say to me more confidentially, I perceive; do not be afraid, we are quite alone.”
“I am never afraid of anything under the shelter of my own conscience and under the protection of your Majesty,” said Colbert, bowing.