back his millions.
Besides, the longer the donation was in coming back, the
more Mazarin thought that forty millions were worth a little
risk, particularly of so hypothetic a thing as the soul.
Mazarin, in his character of cardinal and prime minister,
was almost an atheist, and quite a materialist. Every time
that the door opened, he turned sharply round towards that
door, expecting to see the return of his unfortunate
donation; then, deceived in his hope, he fell back again
with a sigh, and found his pains so much the greater for
having forgotten them for an instant.
Anne of Austria had also followed the cardinal; her heart,
though age had made it selfish, could not help evincing
towards the dying man a sorrow which she owed him as a wife,
according to some; and as a sovereign, according to others.
She had, in some sort, put on a mourning countenance
beforehand, and all the court wore it as she did.
Louis, in order not to show on his face what was passing at
the bottom of his heart, persisted in remaining in his own
apartments, where his nurse alone kept him company; the more
he saw the approach of the time when all constraint would be
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at an end, the more humble and patient he was, falling back
upon himself, as all strong men do when they form great
designs, in order to gain more spring at the decisive
moment. Extreme unction had been administered to the
cardinal, who, faithful to his habits of dissimulation,
struggled against appearances, and even against reality,
receiving company in his bed, as if he only suffered from a
temporary complaint.
Guenaud, on his part, preserved profound secrecy; wearied
with visits and questions, he answered nothing but “his
eminence is still full of youth and strength, but God wills
that which He wills, and when He has decided that man is to
be laid low, he will be laid low.” These words, which he
scattered with a sort of discretion, reserve, and
preference, were commented upon earnestly by two persons, —
the king and the cardinal. Mazarin, notwithstanding the
prophecy of Guenaud, still lured himself with a hope, or
rather played his part so well, that the most cunning, when
saying that he lured himself, proved that they were his
dupes.
Louis, absent from the cardinal for two days; Louis with his
eyes fixed upon that same donation which so constantly
preoccupied the cardinal; Louis did not exactly know how to
make out Mazarin’s conduct. The son of Louis XIII.,
following the paternal traditions, had, up to that time,
been so little of a king that, whilst ardently desiring
royalty, he desired it with that terror which always
accompanies the unknown. Thus, having formed his resolution,
which, besides, he communicated to nobody, he determined to
have an interview with Mazarin. It was Anne of Austria, who,
constant in her attendance upon the cardinal, first heard
this proposition of the king’s, and transmitted it to the
dying man, whom it greatly agitated. For what purpose could
Louis wish for an interview? Was it to return the deed, as
Colbert had said he would? Was it to keep it, after thanking
him, as Mazarin thought he would? Nevertheless, as the dying
man felt that the uncertainty increased his torments, he did
not hesitate an instant.
“His majesty will be welcome, — yes, very welcome,” cried
he, making a sign to Colbert, who was seated at the foot of
the bed, and which the latter understood perfectly.
“Madame,” continued Mazarin, “will your majesty be good
enough to assure the king yourself of the truth of what I
have just said?”
Anne of Austria rose; she herself was anxious to have the
question of the forty millions settled — the question which
seemed to lie heavy on the mind of every one. Anne of
Austria went out; Mazarin made a great effort, and, raising
himself up towards Colbert: “Well, Colbert,” said he, “two
days have passed away — two mortal days — and, you see,
nothing has been returned from yonder.”
“Patience, my lord,” said Colbert.
“Are you mad, you wretch? You advise me to have patience!