“Most gratified, indeed, Monsieur le Surintendant, most gratified. You were very wrong not to come with us, as I invited you to do.”
“I was working, sire,” replied the superintendent, who did not even seem to take the trouble to turn aside his head in merest recognition of Colbert’s presence.
“Ah! M. Fouquet,” cried the king, “there is nothing like the country. I should be delighted to live in the country always, in the open air and under the trees.”
“I should hope that Your Majesty is not yet weary of the throne,” said Fouquet.
“No; but thrones of soft turf are very pleasant.”
“Your Majesty gratifies my utmost wishes in speaking in that manner, for I have a request to submit to you.”
“On whose behalf, Monsieur?”
“Oh behalf of the nymphs of Vaux, sire.”
“Ah! ah!” said Louis XIV.
“Your Majesty, too, once deigned to make me a promise,” said Fouquet.
“Yes, I remember it.”
“The fête at Vaux, the celebrated fête, I think, it was, sire,” said Colbert, endeavoring to show his importance by taking part in the conversation.
Fouquet, with the profoundest contempt, did not take the slightest notice of the remark, as if, as far as he was concerned, Colbert had not even thought or said a word.
“Your Majesty is aware,” he said, “that I destine my estate at Vaux to receive the most amiable of princes, the most powerful of monarchs.”
“I have given you my promise, Monsieur,” said Louis XIV, smiling; “and a king never departs from his word.”
“And I have come now, sire, to inform Your Majesty that I am ready to obey your orders in every respect.”
“Do you promise me many wonders, Monsieur le Surintendant?” said Louis, looking at Colbert.
“Wonders? Oh! no, sire. I do not undertake that. I hope to be able to procure Your Majesty a little pleasure, perhaps even a little forgetfulness of the cares of state.”
“Nay, nay, M. Fouquet,” returned the king; “I insist upon the word ‘wonders.’ You are a magician, I believe; we all know the power you wield; we also know that you can find gold even when there is none to be found elsewhere; so much so, indeed, that people say you coin it.”
Fouquet felt that the shot was discharged from a double quiver, and that the king had launched an arrow from his own bow as well as one from Colbert’s. “Oh!” said he, laughingly, “the people know perfectly well out of what mine I procure the gold; and they know it only too well, perhaps; besides,” he added, “I can assure Your Majesty that the gold destined to pay the expenses of the fête at Vaux will cost neither blood nor tears; hard labor it may, perhaps, but that can be paid for.”
Louis paused quite confused. He wished to look at Colbert; Colbert, too, wished to reply to him; a glance as swift as an eagle’s, a king-like glance, indeed, which Fouquet darted at the latter, arrested the words upon his lips. The king, who had by this time recovered his self-possession, turned towards Fouquet, saying, “I presume, therefore, I am now to consider myself formally invited?”
“Yes, sire, if Your Majesty will condescend so far as to accept my invitation.”
“What day have you fixed?”
“Any day Your Majesty may find most convenient.”
“You speak like an enchanter who has but to conjure up in actuality the wildest fancies, Monsieur Fouquet. I could not say so much, indeed, myself.”
“Your Majesty will do, whenever you please, everything that a monarch can and ought to do. The king of France has servants at his bidding who are able to do anything on his behalf, to accomplish everything to gratify his pleasures.”
Colbert tried to look at the superintendent, in order to see whether this remark was an approach to less hostile sentiments on his part; but Fouquet had not even looked at his enemy, and Colbert hardly seemed to exist as far as he was concerned. “Very good, then,” said the king. “Will a week hence suit you?”
“Perfectly well, sire.”
“This is Tuesday; if I give you until next Sunday week, will that be sufficient?”
“The delay which Your Majesty deigns to accord me will greatly aid the various works which my architects have in hand for the purpose of adding to the amusement of Your Majesty and your friends.”
“By the by, speaking of my friends,” resumed the king; “how do you intend to treat them?”
“The king is master everywhere, sire; Your Majesty will draw up your own list and give your own orders. All those you may deign to invite will be my guests, my honored guests, indeed.”
“I thank you!” returned the king, touched by the noble thought expressed in so noble a tone.
Fouquet, therefore, took leave of Louis XIV, after a few words had been added with regard to the details of certain matters of business. He felt that Colbert would remain behind with the king, that they would both converse about him, and that neither of them would spare him in the least degree. The satisfaction of being able to give a last and terrible blow to his enemy seemed to him almost like a compensation for everything they were about to subject him to. He
