his head as he walks, or appear to pay attention to me;
continue walking, we are alone, listen to me.”
A perfect silence ensued, disturbed only by the distant
cries of the joyous guests, from the groves whence they
beheld the fireworks. It was a whimsical spectacle this, of
these men walking in groups, as if each one was occupied
about something, whilst lending attention really to only one
amongst them, who, himself, seemed to be speaking only to
his companion. “Messieurs,” said Fouquet, “you have, without
doubt, remarked the absence of two of my friends this
evening, who were with us on Wednesday. For God’s sake,
abbe, do not stop, — it is not necessary to enable you to
listen; walk on, carrying your head in a natural way, and as
you have an excellent sight, place yourself at the window,
and if any one returns towards the gallery, give us notice
by coughing.”
The abbe obeyed.
“I have not observed their absence,” said Pellisson, who, at
this moment, was turning his back to Fouquet and walking the
other way.
“I do not see M. Lyodot,” said Sorel, “who pays me my
pension.”
“And I,” said the abbe, at the window, “do not see M.
d’Eymeris, who owes me eleven hundred livres from our last
game at Brelan.”
“Sorel,” continued Fouquet, walking bent, and gloomily, “you
will never receive your pension any more from M. Lyodot; and
you, abbe, will never be paid your eleven hundred livres by
M. d’Eymeris, for both are doomed to die.”
“To die!” exclaimed the whole assembly, arrested, in spite
of themselves, in the comedy they were playing, by that
terrible word.
“Recover yourselves, messieurs,” said Fouquet, “for perhaps
we are watched — I said: to die!”
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“To die!” repeated Pellisson; “what, the men I saw six days
ago, full of health, gayety, and the spirit of the future!
What then is man, good God! that disease should thus bring
him down, all at once!”
“It is not a disease,” said Fouquet.
“Then there is a remedy,” said Sorel.
“No remedy. Messieurs de Lyodot and D’Eymeris are on the eve
of their last day.”
“Of what are these gentlemen dying, then?” asked an officer.
“Ask of him who kills them,” replied Fouquet.
“Who kills them? Are they being killed, then?” cried the
terrified chorus.
“They do better still; they are hanging them,” murmured
Fouquet, in a sinister voice, which sounded like a funeral
knell in that rich gallery, splendid with pictures, flowers,
velvet, and gold. Involuntarily every one stopped; the abbe
quitted his window; the first fusees of the fireworks began
to mount above the trees. A prolonged cry from the gardens
attracted the superintendent to enjoy the spectacle. He drew
near to a window, and his friends placed themselves behind
him, attentive to his least wish. “Messieurs,” said he, “M.
Colbert has caused to be arrested, tried and will execute my
two friends; what does it become me to do?”
“Mordieu!” exclaimed the abbe, the first one to speak, “run
M. Colbert through the body.”
“Monseigneur,” said Pellisson, “you must speak to his
majesty.”
“The king, my dear Pellisson, himself signed the order for
the execution.”
“Well!” said the Comte de Chanost, “the execution must not
take place, then; that is all.”
“Impossible,” said Gourville, “unless we could corrupt the
jailers.”
“Or the governor,” said Fouquet.
“This night the prisoners might be allowed to escape.”
“Which of you will take charge of the transaction?”
“I,” said the abbe, “will carry the money.”
“And I,” said Pellisson, “will be the bearer of the words.”
“Words and money,” said Fouquet, “five hundred thousand
livres to the governor of the conciergerie, that is
sufficient, nevertheless, it shall be a million, if
necessary.”
“A million!” cried the abbe; “why, for less than half, I
would have half Paris sacked.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
“There must be no disorder,” said Pellisson. “The governor
being gained, the two prisoners escape; once clear of the
fangs of the law, they will call together the enemies of
Colbert, and prove to the king that his young justice, like
all other monstrosities, is not infallible.”