“Quick, quick, Captain! let me speak to M. d’Herblay.”
“Alas! that is quite impossible, Monseigneur. I have strict orders to see that you hold no communication with any one.”
“With M. d’Herblay, Captain,- with your friend!”
“Monseigneur, is M. d’Herblay the only person with whom you ought to be prevented from holding any communication?”
Fouquet colored, and then assuming an air of resignation, said: “You are right, Monsieur; you have taught me a lesson that I ought not to have provoked. A fallen man cannot assert his right to anything, even to those whose fortunes he may have made; for a still greater reason he cannot claim anything from those to whom he may never have had the happiness of doing a service.”
“Monseigneur!”
“It is true, M. d’Artagnan; you have always acted in the most admirable manner towards me,- in such a manner, indeed, as most becomes the man who is destined to arrest me. You, at least, have never asked me anything.”
“Monseigneur,” replied the Gascon, touched by his eloquent and noble tone of grief, “will you- I ask it as a favor- pledge me your word as a man of honor that you will not leave this room?”
“What is the use of it, dear M. d’Artagnan, since you keep watch and ward over me? Do you suppose that I should struggle against the most valiant sword in the kingdom?”
“It is not that at all, Monseigneur, but that I am going to look for M. d’Herblay, and consequently to leave you alone.”
Fouquet uttered a cry of delight and surprise.
“To look for M. d’Herblay, to leave me alone!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together.
“Which is M. d’Herblay’s room? The blue room, is it not?”
“Yes, my friend, yes.”
“Your friend! thank you for that word, Monseigneur; you confer it upon me to-day, at least, even if you have never done so before.”
“Ah, you have saved me!”
“It will take me a good ten minutes to go from hence to the blue room, and to return?” said d’Artagnan.
“Nearly so.”
“And then to wake Aramis, who sleeps soundly when he sleeps at all, I put that down at another five minutes; making a total of fifteen minutes’ absence. And now, Monseigneur, give me your word that you will not in any way attempt to make your escape, and that when I return I shall find you here again.”
“I give it to you, Monsieur,” replied Fouquet, with an expression of the warmest and deepest gratitude.
D’Artagnan disappeared. Fouquet looked at him as he quitted the room, waited with feverish impatience until the door was closed behind him, and as soon as it was shut, flew to his keys, opened two or three secret doors concealed in various articles of furniture in the room, looked vainly for certain papers, which doubtless he had left at St. Mande, and which he seemed to regret not finding; then hurriedly seizing hold of letters, contracts, writings, he heaped them up into a pile, which he burned in the extremest haste upon the marble hearth of the fireplace, not even taking time to draw from the interior of it the vases and pots of flowers with which it was filled. As soon as he had finished, like a man who had just escaped an imminent danger, and whose strength abandons him as soon as the danger is past, he sank down, completely overcome, on a couch.
When d’Artagnan returned, he found Fouquet in the same position. The worthy musketeer had not the slightest doubt that Fouquet, having given his word, would not even think of failing to keep it; but he had thought it most likely that Fouquet would turn his (d’Artagnan’s) absence to the best advantage in getting rid of all the papers, memorandums, and contracts which might possibly render his position, which was even now serious enough, still more dangerous. And so, lifting up his head like a dog who gains the scent, d’Artagnan perceived a certain odor resembling smoke, which he had fully expected to find in the atmosphere; having found it, he made a movement of his head in token of satisfaction.
When d’Artagnan entered, Fouquet had, on his side, raised his head, and not one of d’Artagnan’s movements had escaped him.