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Colbert.”
“And you were saying, sire?”
“Give me counsel.”
“Pardon me, sire, but in the first place, I have something
to add.”
“Say — what?”
“An evident, palpable, material proof of treason.”
“And what is that?”
“I have just learnt that M. Fouquet is fortifying
Belle-Isle.”
“Ah, indeed!”
“Yes, sire.”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly. Do you know, sire, what soldiers there are in
Belle-Isle?”
“No, ma foi! Do you?”
“I am ignorant, likewise, sire; I should therefore propose
to your majesty to send somebody to Belle-Isle?”
“Who?”
“Me, for instance.”
“And what would you do at Belle-Isle?”
“Inform myself whether, after the example of the ancient
feudal lords, M. Fouquet was battlementing his walls.”
“And with what purpose could he do that?”
“With the purpose of defending himself some day against his
king.”
“But, if it be thus, M. Colbert,” said Louis, “we must
immediately do as you say; M. Fouquet must be arrested.”
“That is impossible.”
“I thought I had already told you, monsieur, that I
suppressed that word in my service.”
“The service of your majesty cannot prevent M. Fouquet from
being surintendant-general.”
“Well?”
“That, in consequence of holding that post, he has for him
all the parliament, as he has all the army by his largesses,
literature by his favors, and the noblesse by his presents.”
“That is to say, then, that I can do nothing against M.
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Fouquet?”
“Absolutely nothing, — at least at present, sire.”
“You are a sterile counselor, M. Colbert.”
“Oh, no, sire; for I will not confine myself to pointing out
the peril to your majesty.”
“Come, then, where shall we begin to undermine this
Colossus; let us see;” and his majesty began to laugh
bitterly.
“He has grown great by money; kill him by money, sire.”
“If I were to deprive him of his charge?”
“A bad means, sire.”
“The good — the good, then?”
“Ruin him, sire, that is the way.
“But how?”
“Occasions will not be wanting, take advantage of all
occasions.”
“Point them out to me.”
“Here is one at once. His royal highness Monsieur is about
to be married; his nuptials must be magnificent. That is a
good occasion for your majesty to demand a million of M.
Fouquet. M. Fouquet, who pays twenty thousand livres down
when he need not pay more than five thousand, will easily
find that million when your majesty demands it.”
“That is all very well; I will demand it,” said Louis.
“If your majesty will sign the ordonnance I will have the
money got together myself.” And Colbert pushed a paper
before the king, and presented a pen to him.
At that moment the usher opened the door and announced
monsieur le surintendant. Louis turned pale. Colbert let the
pen fall, and drew back from the king, over whom he extended
his black wings like an evil spirit. The superintendent made
his entrance like a man of the court, to whom a single
glance was sufficient to make him appreciate the situation.
That situation was not very encouraging for Fouquet,
whatever might be his consciousness of strength. The small
black eye of Colbert, dilated by envy, and the limpid eye of
Louis XIV., inflamed by anger, signalled some pressing
danger. Courtiers are, with regard to court rumors, like old
soldiers, who distinguish through the blasts of wind and
bluster of leaves the sound of the distant steps of an armed
troop. They can, after having listened, tell pretty nearly
how many men are marching, how many arms resound, how many
cannons roll. Fouquet had then only to interrogate the
silence which his arrival had produced; he found it big with
menacing revelations. The king allowed him time enough to
advance as far as the middle of the chamber. His adolescent
modesty commanded this forbearance of the moment. Fouquet
boldly seized the opportunity.
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“Sire,” said he, “I was impatient to see your majesty.”
“What for?” asked Louis.
“To announce some good news to you.”
Colbert, minus grandeur of person, less largeness of heart,
resembled Fouquet in many points. He had the same