Chapter 39 - Page 2

tearing it into a thousand morsels, spread about by the wind from the balustrade of the terrace. D’Artagnan found him watching the flight of the last scraps into space.

“Monsieur,” said he, “the King waits for you.”

Fouquet walked with a deliberate step into the little corridor, where Messieurs de Brienne and Rose were at work, while the Duc de Saint-Aignan, seated on a chair, likewise in the corridor, appeared to be waiting for orders with feverish impatience, his sword between his legs. It appeared strange to Fouquet that Messieurs de Brienne, Rose, and de Saint-Aignan, in general so attentive and obsequious, should scarcely take the least notice as he, the superintendent, passed. But how could he expect to find it otherwise among courtiers, he whom the King now called “Fouquet”? He raised his head, determined to meet with brave front whatever might happen, and entered the King’s apartment, where a little bell, which we already know, had announced him to his Majesty.

The King, without rising, nodded to him, and with interest, “Well, how are you, M. Fouquet?” said he.

“I am in a high fever,” replied the superintendent; “but I am at the King’s service.”

“That is well; the States assemble tomorrow. Have you a speech ready?”

Fouquet looked at the King with astonishment. “I have not, Sire,” replied he; “but I will improvise one. I am too well acquainted with affairs to feel any embarrassment. I have only one question if your Majesty will permit me?”

“Certainly; ask it.”

“Why has your Majesty not done his first minister the honor to give him notice of this in Paris?”

“You were ill; I was not willing to fatigue you.”

“Never did a labor, never did an explanation, fatigue me, Sire; and since the moment is come for me to demand an explanation of my King-”

“Oh, M. Fouquet, an explanation upon what?”

“Upon your Majesty’s intentions with respect to myself.”

The King blushed. “I have been calumniated,” continued Fouquet, warmly; “and I feel called upon to incite the justice of the King to make inquiries.”

“You say this to me very uselessly, M. Fouquet; I know what I know.”

“Your Majesty can only know things as they have been told to you; and I, on my part, have said nothing to you, while others have spoken many and many times-”

“What do you wish to say?” said the King, impatient to put an end to this embarrassing conversation.

“I will go straight to the fact, Sire; and I accuse a man of having injured me in your Majesty’s opinion.”