The consequence of these blushes, of these interchanged sighs, and of this royal agitation, was, that Montalais had committed an indiscretion which had certainly affected her companion, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, less clear sighted, perhaps, turned pale when the king blushed; and her attendance being required upon Madame, she tremblingly followed the princess without thinking of taking the gloves, which court etiquette required her to do.True it is that this young country girl might allege as her excuse the agitation into which the king seemed to be thrown, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, busily engaged in closing the door, had involuntarily fixed her eyes upon the king, who, as he retired backwards, had his face towards it.The king returned to the room where the card-tables were set out.He wished to speak to the different persons there, but it was easy to see that his mind was absent.He jumbled different accounts together, which was taken advantage of by some of the noblemen who had retained those habits since the time of Monsieur Mazarin -- who had a poor memory, but was a good calculator.In this way Monsieur Manicamp, with a thoughtless and absent air -- for M.Manicamp was the honestest man in the world appropriated twenty thousand francs, which were littering the table, and which did not seem to belong to any person in particular.In the same way, Monsieur de Wardes, whose head was doubtless a little bewildered by the occurrences of the evening, somehow forgot to leave behind him the sixty double louis which he had won for the Duke of Buckingham, and which the duke, incapable, like his father, of soiling his hands with coin of any sort, had left lying on the table before him.The king only recovered his attention in some degree at the moment that Monsieur Colbert, who had been narrowly observant for some minutes, approached, and, doubtless, with great respect, yet with much perseverance, whispered a counsel of some sort into the still tingling ears of the king.The king, at the suggestion, listened with renewed attention and immediately looking around him, said, "Is Monsieur Fouquet no longer here?""Yes, sire, I am here," replied the superintendent, till then engaged with Buckingham, and approached the king, who advanced a step towards him with a smiling yet negligent air."Forgive me," said Louis, "if I interrupt your conversation; but I claim your attention wherever I may require your services.""I am always at the king's service," replied Fouquet.
"And your cash-box too," said the king, laughing with a false smile.
"My cash-box more than anything else," said Fouquet, coldly.
"The fact is, I wish to give a fete at Fontainebleau -- to keep open house for fifteen days, and I shall require ---- "and he stopped glancing at Colbert.Fouquet waited without showing discomposure; and the king resumed, answering Colbert's icy smile, "four million francs.""Four million," repeated Fouquet, bowing profoundly.And his nails, buried in his bosom, were thrust into his flesh, but the tranquil expression of his face remained unaltered.
"When will they be required, sire?"
"Take your time, -- I mean -- no, no, as soon as possible.""A certain time will be necessary, sire.""Time!" exclaimed Colbert, triumphantly.
"The time, monsieur," said the superintendent, with the haughtiest disdain, "simply to count the money: a million can only be drawn and weighed in a day.""Four days then," said Colbert.
"My clerks," replied Fouquet, addressing himself to the king, "will perform wonders on his majesty's service, and the sum shall be ready in three days."It was for Colbert now to turn pale.Louis looked at him astonished.Fouquet withdrew without any parade or weakness, smiling at his numerous friends, in whose countenances alone he read the sincerity of their friendship -- an interest partaking of compassion.Fouquet, however, should not be judged by his smile, for, in reality he felt as if he had been stricken by death.Drops of blood beneath his coat stained the fine linen that clothed his chest.His dress concealed the blood, and his smile the rage which devoured him.His domestics perceived, by the manner in which he approached his carriage, that their master was not in the best of humors: the result of their discernment was, that his orders were executed with that exactitude of maneuver which is found on board a man-of-war, commanded during a storm by an ill-tempered captain.The carriage, therefore, did not simply roll along -- it flew.Fouquet had hardly time to recover himself during the drive; on his arrival he went at once to Aramis, who had not yet retired for the night.As for Porthos, he had supped very agreeably off a roast leg of mutton, two pheasants, and a perfect heap of cray-fish; he then directed his body to be anointed with perfumed oils, in the manner of the wrestlers of old; and when this anointment was completed, he had himself wrapped in flannels and placed in a warm bed.Aramis, as we have already said, had not retired.Seated at his ease in a velvet dressing-gown, he wrote letter after letter in that fine and hurried handwriting, a page of which contained a quarter of a volume.The door was thrown hurriedly open, and the superintendent appeared, pale, agitated, anxious.Aramis looked up: "Good-evening," said he, and his searching look detected his host's sadness and disordered state of mind.
"Was your play as good as his majesty's?" asked Aramis, by way of beginning the conversation.
Fouquet threw himself upon a couch, and then pointed to the door to the servant who had followed him; when the servant had left he said, "Excellent."Aramis, who had followed every movement with his eyes, noticed that he stretched himself upon the cushions with a sort of feverish impatience."You have lost as usual?"inquired Aramis, his pen still in his hand.
"Even more than usual," replied Fouquet.
"You know how to support losses?"
"Sometimes."
"What, Monsieur Fouquet a bad player!"
