ear by Pellisson, the governor eagerly approached the
carriage, and, hat in his hand, was profuse in his
attentions. “What an honor for me, monseigneur,” said he.
“One word, monsieur le gouverneur, will you take the trouble
to get into my carriage?” The officer placed himself
opposite Fouquet in the coach.
“Monsieur,” said Fouquet, “I have a service to ask of you.”
“Speak, monseigneur.”
“A service that will be compromising for you, monsieur, but
which will assure to you forever my protection and my
friendship.”
“Were it to cast myself into the fire for you, monseigneur,
I would do it.”
“That is well,” said Fouquet; “what I require is much more
simple.”
“That being so, monseigneur, what is it?”
“To conduct me to the chamber of Messieurs Lyodot and
D’Eymeris.”
“Will monseigneur have the kindness to say for what
purpose?”
“I will tell you in their presence, monsieur; at the same
time that I will give you ample means of palliating this
escape.”
“Escape! Why, then, monseigneur does not know?”
“What?”
“That Messieurs Lyodot and D’Eymeris are no longer here.”
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“Since when?” cried Fouquet, in great agitation.
“About a quarter of an hour.”
“Whither have they gone, then?”
“To Vincennes — to the donjon.”
“Who took them from here?”
“An order from the king.”
“Oh! woe! woe!” exclaimed Fouquet, striking his forehead.
“Woe!” and without saying a single word more to the
governor, he threw himself back in his carriage, despair in
his heart, and death on his countenance.
“Well!” said Pellisson, with great anxiety.
“Our friends are lost. Colbert is conveying them to the
donjon. They crossed our very path under the arcade
Saint-Jean.”
Pellisson, struck as by a thunderbolt, made no reply. With a
single reproach he would have killed his master. “Where is
monseigneur going?” said the footman.
“Hone — to Paris. You, Pellisson, return to Saint-Mande,
and bring the Abbe Fouquet to me within an hour. Begone!”
CHAPTER 60
Plan of Battle
The night was already far advanced when the Abbe Fouquet
joined his brother. Gourville had accompanied him. These
three men, pale with dread of future events, resembled less
three powers of the day than three conspirators, united by
one single thought of violence. Fouquet walked for a long
time, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, striking his hands
one against the other. At length, taking courage, in the
midst of a deep sigh: “Abbe,” said he, “you were speaking to
me only to-day of certain people you maintain.”
“Yes, monsieur,” replied the abbe.
“Tell me precisely who are these people.” The abbe
hesitated.
“Come! no fear, I am not threatening; no romancing, for I am
not joking.”
“Since you demand the truth, monseigneur, here it is: — I
have a hundred and twenty friends or companions of pleasure,
who are sworn to me as the thief is to the gallows.”
“And you think you can depend upon them?”
“Entirely.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
“And you will not compromise yourself?”
“I will not even make my appearance.”
“And are they men of resolution?”
“They would burn Paris, if I promised them they should not
be burnt in turn.”
“The thing I ask of you, abbe,” said Fouquet, wiping the
sweat which fell from his brow, “is to throw your hundred
and twenty men upon the people I will point out to you, at a
certain moment given — is it possible?”
“It will not be the first time such a thing has happened to
them, monseigneur.”
“That is well: but would these bandits attack an armed
force?”
“They are used to that.”
“Then get your hundred and twenty men together, abbe.”
“Directly. But where?”
“On the road to Vincennes, to-morrow, at two o’clock
precisely.”
“To carry off Lyodot and D’Eymeris? There will be blows to
be got!”
“A number, no doubt; are you afraid?”
“Not for myself, but for you.”
“Your men will know, then, what they have to do?”
“They are too intelligent not to guess it. Now, a minister
who gets up a riot against his king — exposes himself —-
”
“Of what importance is that to you, I pray? Besides, if I