Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part two

present to monsieur the governor of the conciergerie! Peste!

monseigneur, he might have his head cut off; but he would,

before dying, have had such happiness as no man had enjoyed

before him.”

“And I add,” said Fouquet, “that the concierge of the Palais

would not have his head cut off, for he would receive of me

my horses to effect his escape, and five hundred thousand

livres wherewith to live comfortably in England: I add, that

this lady, my friend, would give him nothing but the horses

and the money. Let us go and seek her, Pellisson.”

The superintendent reached forth his hand towards the gold

and silken cord placed in the interior of his carriage, but

Pellisson stopped him. “Monseigneur,” said he, “you are

going to lose as much time in seeking this lady as Columbus

took to discover the new world. Now, we have but two hours

in which we can possibly succeed; the concierge once gone to

bed, how shall we get at him without making a disturbance?

When daylight dawns, how can we conceal our proceedings? Go,

go yourself, monseigneur, and do not seek either woman or

angel to-night.”

“But, my dear Pellisson, here we are before her door.”

“What! before the angel’s door?”

“Why, yes!”

“This is the hotel of Madame de Belliere!”

“Hush!”

“Ah! Good Lord!” exclaimed Pellisson.

“What have you to say against her?”

“Nothing, alas! and it is that which causes my despair.

Nothing, absolutely nothing. Why can I not, on the contrary,

say ill enough of her to prevent your going to her?”

But Fouquet had already given orders to stop, and the

carriage was motionless. “Prevent me!” cried Fouquet; “why,

no power on earth should prevent my going to pay my

Page 347

Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

compliments to Madame de Plessis-Belliere, besides, who

knows that we shall not stand in need of her!”

“No, monseigneur no!”

“But I do not wish you to wait for me, Pellisson,” replied

Fouquet, sincerely courteous.

“The more reason I should, monseigneur; knowing that you are

keeping me waiting, you will, perhaps, stay a shorter time.

Take care! You see there is a carriage in the courtyard: she

has some one with her.” Fouquet leant towards the steps of

the carriage. “One word more,” cried Pellisson; “do not go

to this lady till you have been to the concierge, for

Heaven’s sake!”

“Eh! five minutes, Pellisson,” replied Fouquet, alighting at

the steps of the hotel, leaving Pellisson in the carriage,

in a very ill-humor. Fouquet ran upstairs, told his name to

the footman, which excited an eagerness and a respect that

showed the habit the mistress of the house had of honoring

that name in her family. “Monsieur le surintendant,” cried

the marquise, advancing, very pale, to meet him; “what an

honor! what an unexpected pleasure!” said she. Then, in a

low voice, “Take care!” added the marquise, “Marguerite

Vanel is here!”

“Madame,” replied Fouquet, rather agitated, “I came on

business. One single word, and quickly, if you please!” And

he entered the salon. Madame Vanel had risen, paler, more

livid, than Envy herself. Fouquet in vain addressed her,

with the most agreeable, most pacific salutation; she only

replied by a terrible glance darted at the marquise and

Fouquet. This keen glance of a jealous woman is a stiletto

which pierces every cuirass; Marguerite Vanel plunged it

straight into the hearts of the two confidants. She made a

courtesy to her friend, a more profound one to Fouquet, and

took leave, under pretense of having a number of visits to

make, without the marquise trying to prevent her, or

Fouquet, a prey to anxiety, thinking further about her. She

was scarcely out of the room, and Fouquet left alone with

the marquise, before he threw himself on his knees, without

saying a word. “I expected you,” said the marquise, with a

tender sigh.

“Oh! no,” cried he, “or you would have sent away that

woman.”

“She has been here little more than half an hour, and I had

no expectation she would come this evening.”

“You love me just a little, then, marquise?”

“That is not the question now; it is of your danger; how are

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