The news of the extreme illness of the cardinal had alreadyspread, and attracted at least as much attention among thepeople of the Louvre as the news of the marriage ofMonsieur, the king's brother, which had already beenannounced as an official fact. Scarcely had Louis XIV.returned home, with his thoughts fully occupied with thevarious things he had seen and heard in the course of theevening, when an usher announced that the same crowd ofcourtiers who, in the morning, had thronged his lever,presented themselves again at his coucher, a remarkablepiece of respect which, during the reign of the cardinal,the court, not very discreet in its preferences, hadaccorded to the minister, without caring about displeasingthe king.

But the minister had had, as we have said, an alarmingattack of gout, and the tide of flattery was mountingtowards the throne. Courtiers have a marvelous instinct inscenting the turn of events; courtiers possess a supremekind of science; they are diplomatists in throwing lightupon the unraveling of complicated intrigues, captains indivining the issue of battles, and physicians in curing thesick. Louis XIV., to whom his mother had taught this axiom,together with many others, understood at once that thecardinal must be very ill.

Scarcely had Anne of Austria conducted the young queen toher apartments and taken from her brow the head-dress ofceremony, when she went to see her son in his cabinet,where, alone, melancholy and depressed, he was indulging, asif to exercise his will, in one of those terrible inwardpassions - king's passions - which create events when theybreak out, and with Louis XIV., thanks to his astonishingcommand over himself, became such benign tempests, that hismost violent, his only passion, that which Saint Simonmentions with astonishment, was that famous fit of angerwhich he exhibited fifty years later, on the occasion of alittle concealment of the Duc de Maine's. and which had forresult a shower of blows inflicted with a cane upon the backof a poor valet who had stolen a biscuit. The young kingthen was, as we have seen, a prey to a double excitement;and he said to himself as he looked in a glass, "O king! - king by name, and not in fact; - phantom, vain phantom artthou! - inert statue, which has no other power than that ofprovoking salutations from courtiers, when wilt thou be ableto raise thy velvet arm, or clench thy silken hand? whenwilt thou be able to open, for any purpose but to sigh, orsmile, lips condemned to the motionless stupidity of themarbles in thy gallery?"

Then, passing his hand over his brow, and feeling the wantof air, he approached a window, and looking down, saw belowsome horsemen talking together, and groups of timidobservers. These horsemen were a fraction of the watch: thegroups were busy portions of the people, to whom a king isalways a curious thing, the same as a rhinoceros, acrocodile, or a serpent. He struck his brow with his openhand, crying, - "King of France! what title! People ofFrance! what a heap of creatures! I have just returned to myLouvre; my horses, just unharnessed, are still smoking, andI have created interest enough to induce scarcely twentypersons to look at me as I passed. Twenty! what do I say?no; there were not twenty anxious to see the king of France.There are not even ten archers to guard my place ofresidence: archers, people, guards, all are at the PalaisRoyal! Why, my good God! have not I, the king, the right toask of you all that?"

"Because," said a voice, replying to his, and which soundedfrom the other side of the door of the cabinet, "because atthe Palais Royal lies all the gold, - that is to say, allthe power of him who desires to reign."

Louis turned sharply round. The voice which had pronouncedthese words was that of Anne of Austria. The king started,and advanced towards her. "I hope," said he, "your majestyhas paid no attention to the vain declamations which thesolitude and disgust familiar to kings suggest to thehappiest dispositions?"

"I only paid attention to one thing, my son, and that was,that you were complaining."

"Who! I? Not at all," said Louis XIV.; "no, in truth, youerr, madame."

"What were you doing, then?"

"I thought I was under the ferule of my professor, anddeveloping a subject of amplification."

"My son," replied Anne of Austria, shaking her head, "youare wrong not to trust my word; you are wrong not to grantme your confidence. A day will come, and perhaps quickly,wherein you will have occasion to remember that axiom: - `Gold is universal power; and they alone are kings who areall-powerful.'"

"Your intention," continued the king, "was not, however, tocast blame upon the rich men of this age, was it?

"No," said the queen, warmly; "no, sire; they who are richin this age, under your reign, are rich because you havebeen willing they should be so, and I entertain against themneither malice nor envy; they have, without doubt, servedyour majesty sufficiently well for your majesty to havepermitted them to reward themselves. That is what I mean tosay by the words for which you reproach me."

"God forbid, madame, that I should ever reproach my motherwith anything!"

"Besides," continued Anne of Austria, "the Lord never givesthe goods of this world but for a season; the Lord - ascorrectives to honor and riches - the Lord has placedsufferings, sickness, and death; and no one," added she,with a melancholy smile, which proved she made theapplication of the funeral precept to herself, "no man cantake his wealth or greatness with him to the grave. Itresults, therefore, that the young gather the abundantharvest prepared for them by the old."

Louis listened with increased attention to the words whichAnne of Austria, no doubt, pronounced with a view to consolehim. "Madame," said he, looking earnestly at his mother,"one would almost say in truth that you had something elseto announce to me."

"I have absolutely nothing, my son; only you cannot havefailed to remark that his eminence the cardinal is veryill."

Louis looked at his mother, expecting some emotion in hervoice, some sorrow in her countenance. The face of Anne ofAustria appeared a little changed, but that was fromsufferings of quite a personal character. Perhaps thealteration was caused by the cancer which had begun toconsume her breast. "Yes, madame," said the king; "yes, M.de Mazarin is very ill."

"And it would be a great loss to the kingdom if God were tosummon his eminence away. Is not that your opinion as wellas mine, my son?" said the queen.

"Yes, madame; yes, certainly, it would be a great loss forthe kingdom," said Louis, coloring; "but the peril does notseem to me to be so great; besides, the cardinal is stillyoung." The king had scarcely ceased speaking when an usherlifted the tapestry, and stood with a paper in his hand,waiting for the king to speak to him.

"What have you there?" asked the king.

"A message from M. de Mazarin," replied the usher.

"Give it to me," said the king; and he took the paper. Butat the moment he was about to open it, there was a greatnoise in the gallery, the ante-chamber, and the court.

"Ah, ah," said Louis XIV., who doubtless knew the meaning ofthat triple noise. "How could I say there was but one kingin France! I was mistaken, there are two."

As he spoke or thought thus, the door opened, and thesuperintendent of the finances, Fouquet, appeared before hisnominal master. It was he who made the noise in theante-chamber, it was his horses that made the noise in thecourtyard. In addition to all this, a loud murmur was heardalong his passage, which did not die away till some timeafter he had passed. It was this murmur which Louis XIV.regretted so deeply not hearing as he passed, and dying awaybehind him.

"He is not precisely a king, as you fancy," said Anne ofAustria to her son; "he is only a man who is much too rich- that is all."

Whilst saying these words, a bitter feeling gave to thesewords of the queen a most hateful expression; whereas thebrow of the king, calm and self-possessed, on the contrary,was without the slightest wrinkle. He nodded, therefore,familiarly to Fouquet, whilst he continued to unfold thepaper given to him by the usher. Fouquet perceived thismovement, and with a politeness at once easy and respectful,advanced towards the queen, so as not to disturb the king.Louis had opened the paper, and yet he did not read it. Helistened to Fouquet paying the most charming compliments tothe queen upon her hand and arm. Anne of Austria's frownrelaxed a little, she even almost smiled. Fouquet perceivedthat the king, instead of reading, was looking at him; heturned half round, therefore, and while continuing hisconversation with the queen, faced the king.

"You know, Monsieur Fouquet," said Louis, "how ill M.Mazarin is?"

"Yes, sire, I know that," said Fouquet; "in fact, he is veryill. I was at my country-house of Vaux when the news reachedme; and the affair seemed so pressing that I left at once."

"You left Vaux this evening, monsieur?"

"An hour and a half ago, yes, your majesty," said Fouquet,consulting a watch, richly ornamented with diamonds.

"An hour and a half!" said the king, still able to restrainhis anger, but not to conceal his astonishment.

"I understand you, sire. Your majesty doubts my word, andyou have reason to do so, but I have really come in thattime, though it is wonderful! I received from England threepairs of very fast horses, as I had been assured. They wereplaced at distances of four leagues apart, and I tried themthis evening. They really brought me from Vaux to the Louvrein an hour and a half, so your majesty sees I have not beencheated." The queen-mother smiled with something like secretenvy. But Fouquet caught her thought. "Thus, madame," hepromptly said, "such horses are made for kings, not forsubjects; for kings ought never to yield to any one inanything."

The king looked up.

"And yet," interrupted Anne of Austria, "you are not a king,that I know of, M. Fouquet."

"Truly not, madame; therefore the horses only await theorders of his majesty to enter the royal stables; and if Iallowed myself to try them, it was only for fear of offeringto the king anything that was not positively wonderful."

The king became quite red.

"You know, Monsieur Fouquet," said the queen, "that at thecourt of France it is not the custom for a subject to offeranything to his king."

Louis started.

"I hoped, madame," said Fouquet, much agitated, "that mylove for his majesty, my incessant desire to please him,would serve to compensate the want of etiquette. It was notso much a present that I permitted myself to offer, as thetribute I paid."

"Thank you, Monsieur Fouquet," said the king politely, "andI am gratified by your intention, for I love good horses;but you know I am not very rich; you, who are mysuperintendent of finances, know it better than any oneelse. I am not able, then, however willing I may be, topurchase such a valuable set of horses."

Fouquet darted a haughty glance at the queen-mother, whoappeared to triumph at the false position in which theminister had placed himself, and replied: -

"Luxury is the virtue of kings, sire: it is luxury whichmakes them resemble God: it is by luxury they are more thanother men. With luxury a king nourishes his subjects, andhonors them. Under the mild heat of this luxury of kingssprings the luxury of individuals, a source of riches forthe people. His majesty, by accepting the gift of these sixincomparable horses, would stimulate the pride of his ownbreeders, of Limousin, Perche, and Normandy, and thisemulation would have been beneficial to all. But the king issilent, and consequently I am condemned."

During this speech, Louis was, unconsciously, folding andunfolding Mazarin's paper, upon which he had not cast hiseyes. At length he glanced upon it, and uttered a faint cryat reading the first line.

"What is the matter, my son?" asked the queen, anxiously,and going towards the king.

"From the cardinal," replied the king, continuing to read;"yes, yes, it is really from him."

"Is he worse, then?"

"Read!" said the king, passing the parchment to his mother,as if he thought that nothing less than reading wouldconvince Anne of Austria of a thing so astonishing as wasconveyed in that paper.

Anne of Austria read in turn, and as she read, her eyessparkled with a joy all the greater from her uselessendeavor to hide it, which attracted the attention ofFouquet.

"Oh! a regularly drawn up deed of gift," said she.

"A gift?" repeated Fouquet.

"Yes," said the king, replying pointedly to thesuperintendent of finances, "yes, at the point of death,monsieur le cardinal makes me a donation of all his wealth."

"Forty millions," cried the queen. "Oh, my son! this is verynoble on the part of his eminence, and will silence allmalicious rumors; forty millions scraped together slowly,coming back all in one heap to the treasury! It is the actof a faithful subject and a good Christian." And having oncemore cast her eyes over the act, she restored it to LouisXIV., whom the announcement of the sum greatly agitated.Fouquet had taken some steps backwards and remained silent.The king looked at him, and held the paper out to him, inturn. The superintendent only bestowed a haughty look of asecond upon it; then bowing, - "Yes, sire," said he, "adonation, I see."

"You must reply to it, my son," said Anne of Austria; "youmust reply to it, and immediately."

"But how, madame?"

"By a visit to the cardinal."

"Why, it is but an hour since I left his eminence," said theking.

"Write, then, sire."

"Write!" said the young king, with evident repugnance.

"Well!" replied Anne of Austria, "it seems to me, my son,that a man who has just made such a present has a good rightto expect to be thanked for it with some degree ofpromptitude." Then turning towards Fouquet: "Is not thatlikewise your opinion, monsieur?"

"That the present is worth the trouble? Yes madame," saidFouquet, with a lofty air that did not escape the king.

"Accept, then, and thank him," insisted Anne of Austria.

"What says M. Fouquet?" asked Louis XIV.

"Does your majesty wish to know my opinion?"

"Yes."

"Thank him, sire - - "

"Ah!" said the queen.

"But do not accept," continued Fouquet.

"And why not?" asked the queen.

"You have yourself said why, madame," replied Fouquet;"because kings cannot and ought not to receive presents fromtheir subjects."

The king remained silent between these two contraryopinions.

"But forty millions!" said Anne of Austria, in the same toneas that in which, at a later period, poor Marie Antoinettereplied, "You will tell me as much!"

"I know," said Fouquet, laughing, "forty millions makes agood round sum, - such a sum as could almost tempt a royalconscience."

"But monsieur," said Anne of Austria, "instead of persuadingthe king not to receive this present, recall to hismajesty's mind, you, whose duty it is, that these fortymillions are a fortune to him."

"It is precisely, madame, because these forty millions wouldbe a fortune that I will say to the king, `Sire, if it benot decent for a king to accept from a subject six horses,worth twenty thousand livres, it would be disgraceful forhim to owe a fortune to another subject, more or lessscrupulous in the choice of the materials which contributedto the building up of that fortune.'"

"It ill becomes you, monsieur, to give your king a lesson,"said Anne of Austria; "better procure for him forty millionsto replace those you make him lose."

"The king shall have them whenever he wishes," said thesuperintendent of finances, bowing.

"Yes, by oppressing the people," said the queen.

"And were they not oppressed, madame," replied Fouquet,"when they were made to sweat the forty millions given bythis deed? Furthermore, his majesty has asked my opinion, Ihave given it; if his majesty ask my concurrence, it will bethe same."

"Nonsense! accept, my son, accept," said Anne of Austria."You are above reports and interpretations."

"Refuse, sire," said Fouquet. "As long as a king lives, hehas no other measure but his conscience, - no other judgethan his own desires; but when dead, he has posterity, whichapplauds or accuses."

"Thank you, mother," replied Louis, bowing respectfully tothe queen. "Thank you, Monsieur Fouquet," said he,dismissing the superintendent civilly.

"Do you accept?" asked Anne of Austria, once more.

"I shall consider of it," replied he, looking at Fouquet.