The day that the deed of gift had been sent to the king, thecardinal caused himself to be transported to Vincennes. Theking and the court followed him thither. The last flashes ofthis torch still cast splendor enough around to absorb allother lights in its rays. Besides, as it has been seen, thefaithful satellite of his minister, young Louis XIV.,marched to the last minute in accordance with hisgravitation. The disease, as Guenaud had predicted, hadbecome worse; it was no longer an attack of gout, it was anattack of death; then there was another thing which madethat agony more agonizing still, - and that was theagitation brought into his mind by the donation he had sentto the king, and which, according to Colbert, the king oughtto send back unaccepted to the cardinal. The cardinal had,as we have said, great faith in the predictions of hissecretary; but the sum was a large one, and whatever mightbe the genius of Colbert, from time to time the cardinalthought to himself that the Theatin also might possibly havebeen mistaken, and that there was at least as much chance ofhis not being damned, as there was of Louis XIV. sendingback his millions.

Besides, the longer the donation was in coming back, themore Mazarin thought that forty millions were worth a littlerisk, particularly of so hypothetic a thing as the soul.Mazarin, in his character of cardinal and prime minister,was almost an atheist, and quite a materialist. Every timethat the door opened, he turned sharply round towards thatdoor, expecting to see the return of his unfortunatedonation; then, deceived in his hope, he fell back againwith a sigh, and found his pains so much the greater forhaving forgotten them for an instant.

Anne of Austria had also followed the cardinal; her heart,though age had made it selfish, could not help evincingtowards the dying man a sorrow which she owed him as a wife,according to some; and as a sovereign, according to others.She had, in some sort, put on a mourning countenancebeforehand, and all the court wore it as she did.

Louis, in order not to show on his face what was passing atthe bottom of his heart, persisted in remaining in his ownapartments, where his nurse alone kept him company; the morehe saw the approach of the time when all constraint would beat an end, the more humble and patient he was, falling backupon himself, as all strong men do when they form greatdesigns, in order to gain more spring at the decisivemoment. Extreme unction had been administered to thecardinal, who, faithful to his habits of dissimulation,struggled against appearances, and even against reality,receiving company in his bed, as if he only suffered from atemporary complaint.

Guenaud, on his part, preserved profound secrecy; weariedwith visits and questions, he answered nothing but "hiseminence is still full of youth and strength, but God willsthat which He wills, and when He has decided that man is tobe laid low, he will be laid low." These words, which hescattered with a sort of discretion, reserve, andpreference, were commented upon earnestly by two persons, - the king and the cardinal. Mazarin, notwithstanding theprophecy of Guenaud, still lured himself with a hope, orrather played his part so well, that the most cunning, whensaying that he lured himself, proved that they were hisdupes.

Louis, absent from the cardinal for two days; Louis with hiseyes fixed upon that same donation which so constantlypreoccupied the cardinal; Louis did not exactly know how tomake out Mazarin's conduct. The son of Louis XIII.,following the paternal traditions, had, up to that time,been so little of a king that, whilst ardently desiringroyalty, he desired it with that terror which alwaysaccompanies the unknown. Thus, having formed his resolution,which, besides, he communicated to nobody, he determined tohave an interview with Mazarin. It was Anne of Austria, who,constant in her attendance upon the cardinal, first heardthis proposition of the king's, and transmitted it to thedying man, whom it greatly agitated. For what purpose couldLouis wish for an interview? Was it to return the deed, asColbert had said he would? Was it to keep it, after thankinghim, as Mazarin thought he would? Nevertheless, as the dyingman felt that the uncertainty increased his torments, he didnot hesitate an instant.

"His majesty will be welcome, - yes, very welcome," criedhe, making a sign to Colbert, who was seated at the foot ofthe bed, and which the latter understood perfectly."Madame," continued Mazarin, "will your majesty be goodenough to assure the king yourself of the truth of what Ihave just said?"

Anne of Austria rose; she herself was anxious to have thequestion of the forty millions settled - the question whichseemed to lie heavy on the mind of every one. Anne ofAustria went out; Mazarin made a great effort, and, raisinghimself up towards Colbert: "Well, Colbert," said he, "twodays have passed away - two mortal days - and, you see,nothing has been returned from yonder."

"Patience, my lord," said Colbert.

"Are you mad, you wretch? You advise me to have patience!Oh, in sad truth, Colbert, you are laughing at me. I amdying, and you call out to me to wait!"

"My lord," said Colbert, with his habitual coolness, "it isimpossible that things should not come out as I have said.His majesty is coming to see you, and no doubt he bringsback the deed himself."

"Do you think so? Well, I, on the contrary, am sure that hismajesty is coming to thank me."

At this moment Anne of Austria returned. On her way to theapartments of her son she had met with a new empiric. Thiswas a powder which was said to have power to save thecardinal; and she brought a portion of this powder with her.But this was not what Mazarin expected; therefore he wouldnot even look at it, declaring that life was not worth thepains that were taken to preserve it. But, whilst professingthis philosophical axiom, his long-confined secret escapedhim at last.

"That, madame," said he, "that is not the interesting partof my situation. I made, two days ago, a little donation tothe king; up to this time, from delicacy, no doubt, hismajesty has not condescended to say anything about it; butthe time for explanation is come, and I implore your majestyto tell me if the king has made up his mind on that matter."

Anne of Austria was about to reply, when Mazarin stoppedher.

"The truth, madame," said he - "in the name of Heaven, thetruth! Do not flatter a dying man with a hope that may provevain." There he stopped, a look from Colbert telling himthat he was on a wrong tack.

"I know," said Anne of Austria, taking the cardinal's hand,"I know that you have generously made, not a littledonation, as you modestly call it, but a magnificent gift. Iknow how painful it would be to you if the king - - "

Mazarin listened, dying as he was, as ten living men couldnot have listened.

"If the king - - " replied he.

"If the king," continued Anne of Austria, "should not freelyaccept what you offer so nobly."

Mazarin allowed himself to sink back upon his pillow likePantaloon; that is to say, with all the despair of a man whobows before the tempest; but he still preserved sufficientstrength and presence of mind to cast upon Colbert one ofthose looks which are well worth ten sonnets, which is tosay, ten long poems.

"Should you not," added the queen, "have considered therefusal of the king as a sort of insult?" Mazarin rolled hishead about upon his pillow, without articulating a syllable.The queen was deceived, or feigned to be deceived, by thisdemonstration.

"Therefore," resumed she, "I have circumvented him with goodcounsels; and as certain minds, jealous, no doubt, of theglory you are about to acquire by this generosity, haveendeavored to prove to the king that he ought not to acceptthis donation, I have struggled in your favor, and so wellhave I struggled, that you will not have, I hope, thatdistress to undergo."

"Ah!" murmured Mazarin, with languishing eyes, "ah! that isa service I shall never forget for a single minute of thefew hours I still have to live."

"I must admit," continued the queen, "that it was notwithout trouble I rendered it to your eminence."

"Ah, peste! I believe that. Oh! oh!"

"Good God! what is the matter?"

"I am burning!"

"Do you suffer much?"

"As much as one of the damned."

Colbert would have liked to sink through the floor.

"So, then," resumed Mazarin, "your majesty thinks that theking - - "he stopped several seconds - "that the king iscoming here to offer me some small thanks?"

"I think so," said the queen. Mazarin annihilated Colbertwith his last look.

At that moment the ushers announced that the king was in theante-chambers, which were filled with people. Thisannouncement produced a stir of which Colbert took advantageto escape by the door of the ruelle. Anne of Austria arose,and awaited her son, standing. Louis IV. appeared at thethreshold of the door, with his eyes fixed upon the dyingman, who did not even think it worth while to notice thatmajesty from whom he thought he had nothing more to expect.An usher placed an armchair close to the bed. Louis bowed tohis mother, then to the cardinal, and sat down. The queentook a seat in her turn.

Then, as the king looked behind him, the usher understoodthat look and made a sign to the courtiers who filled up thedoorway to go out, which they instantly did. Silence fellupon the chamber with the velvet curtains. The king, stillvery young, and very timid in the presence of him who hadbeen his master from his birth, still respected him much,particularly now, in the supreme majesty of death. He didnot dare, therefore, to begin the conversation, feeling thatevery word must have its weight not only upon things of thisworld, but of the next. As to the cardinal, at that momenthe had but one thought - his donation. It was not physicalpain which gave him that air of despondency, and thatlugubrious look; it was the expectation of the thanks thatwere about to issue from the king's mouth, and cut off allhope of restitution. Mazarin was the first to break thesilence. "Is your majesty come to make any stay atVincennes?" said he.

Louis made an affirmative sign with his head.

"That is a gracious favor," continued Mazarin, "granted to adying man, and which will render death less painful to him."

"I hope," replied the king, "I am come to visit, not a dyingman, but a sick man, susceptible of cure."

Mazarin replied by a movement of the head.

"Your majesty is very kind; but I know more than you on thatsubject. The last visit, sire," said he, "the last visit."

"If it were so, monsieur le cardinal," said Louis, "I wouldcome a last time to ask the counsels of a guide to whom Iowe everything."

Anne of Austria was a woman; she could not restrain hertears. Louis showed himself much affected, and Mazarin stillmore than his two guests, but from very different motives.Here the silence returned. The queen wiped her eyes, and theking resumed his firmness.

"I was saying," continued the king, "that I owed much toyour eminence." The eyes of the cardinal devoured the king,for he felt the great moment had come. "And," continuedLouis, "the principal object of my visit was to offer youvery sincere thanks for the last evidence of friendship youhave kindly sent me."

The cheeks of the cardinal became sunken, his lips partiallyopened, and the most lamentable sigh he had ever uttered wasabout to issue from his chest.

"Sire," said he, "I shall have despoiled my poor family; Ishall have ruined all who belong to me, which may be imputedto me as an error; but, at least, it shall not be said of methat I have refused to sacrifice everything to my king."

Anne of Austria's tears flowed afresh.

"My dear Monsieur Mazarin," said the king, in a more serioustone than might have been expected from his youth, "you havemisunderstood me, apparently."

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow.

"I have no purpose to despoil your dear family, nor to ruinyour servants. Oh, no, that must never be!"

"Humph!" thought Mazarin, "he is going to restore me somescraps; let us get the largest piece we can."

"The king is going to be foolishly affected and play thegenerous," thought the queen; "he must not be allowed toimpoverish himself; such an opportunity for getting afortune will never occur again."

"Sire," said the cardinal, aloud, "my family is verynumerous, and my nieces will be destitute when I am gone."

"Oh," interrupted the queen, eagerly, "have no uneasinesswith respect to your family, dear Monsieur Mazarin; we haveno friends dearer than your friends; your nieces shall be mychildren, the sisters of his majesty; and if a favor bedistributed in France, it shall be to those you love."

"Smoke!" thought Mazarin, who knew better than any one thefaith that can be put in the promises of kings. Louis readthe dying man's thought in his face.

"Be comforted, my dear Monsieur Mazarin," said he, with ahalf-smile, sad beneath its irony; "the Mesdemoiselles deMancini will lose, in losing you, their most precious good;but they shall none the less be the richest heiresses ofFrance; and since you have been kind enough to give me theirdowry" - the cardinal was panting - "I restore it tothem," continued Louis, drawing from his breast and holdingtowards the cardinal's bed the parchment which contained thedonation that, during two days, had kept alive such tempestsin the mind of Mazarin.

"What did I tell you, my lord?" murmured in the alcove avoice which passed away like a breath.

"Your majesty returns my donation!" cried Mazarin, sodisturbed by joy as to forget his character of a benefactor.

"Your majesty rejects the forty millions!" cried Anne ofAustria, so stupefied as to forget her character of anafflicted wife, or queen.

"Yes, my lord cardinal; yes, madame," replied Louis XIV.,tearing the parchment which Mazarin had not yet ventured toclutch; "yes, I annihilate this deed, which despoiled awhole family. The wealth acquired by his eminence in myservice is his own wealth and not mine."

"But, sire, does your majesty reflect," said Anne ofAustria, "that you have not ten thousand crowns in yourcoffers?"

"Madame, I have just performed my first royal action, and Ihope it will worthily inaugurate my reign."

"Ah! sire, you are right!" cried Mazarin; "that is trulygreat - that is truly generous which you have just done."And he looked, one after the other, at the pieces of the actspread over his bed, to assure himself that it was theoriginal and not a copy that had been torn. At length hiseyes fell upon the fragment which bore his signature, andrecognizing it, he sunk back on his bolster in a swoon. Anneof Austria, without strength to conceal her regret, raisedher hands and eyes toward heaven.

"Oh! sire," cried Mazarin, "may you be blessed! My God! Mayyou be beloved by all my family. Per Baccho! If ever any ofthose belonging to me should cause your displeasure, sire,only frown, and I will rise from my tomb!"

This pantalonnade did not produce all the effect Mazarin hadcounted upon. Louis had already passed to considerations ofa higher nature, and as to Anne of Austria, unable to bear,without abandoning herself to the anger she felt burningwithin her, the magnanimity of her son and the hypocrisy ofthe cardinal, she arose and left the chamber, heedless ofthus betraying the extent of her grief. Mazarin saw allthis, and fearing that Louis XIV. might repent his decision,in order to draw attention another way he began to cry out,as, at a later period, Scapin was to cry out, in thatsublime piece of pleasantry with which the morose andgrumbling Boileau dared to reproach Moliere. His cries,however, by degrees, became fainter; and when Anne ofAustria left the apartment, they ceased altogether.

"Monsieur le cardinal," said the king, "have you anyrecommendations to make to me?"

"Sire," replied Mazarin, "you are already wisdom itself,prudence personified; of your generosity I shall not ventureto speak; that which you have just done exceeds all that themost generous men of antiquity or of modern times have everdone."

The king received this praise coldly.

"So you confine yourself," said he, "to your thanks - andyour experience, much more extensive than my wisdom, myprudence, or my generosity, does not furnish you with asingle piece of friendly advice to guide my future."

Mazarin reflected for a moment. "You have just done much forme, sire," said he, "that is, for my family."

"Say no more about that," said the king.

"Well!" continued Mazarin, "I shall give you something inexchange for these forty millions you have refused soroyally."

Louis XIV. indicated by a movement that these flatterieswere displeasing to him. "I shall give you a piece ofadvice," continued Mazarin; "yes, a piece of advice - advice more precious than the forty millions."

"My lord cardinal!" interrupted Louis.

"Sire, listen to this advice."

"I am listening."

"Come nearer, sire, for I am weak! - nearer, sire, nearer!"

The king bent over the dying man. "Sire," said Mazarin, inso low a tone that the breath of his words arrived only likea recommendation from the tomb in the attentive ears of theking - "Sire, never have a prime minister."

Louis drew back astonished. The advice was a confession - atreasure, in fact, was that sincere confession of Mazarin.The legacy of the cardinal to the young king was composed ofsix words only, but those six words, as Mazarin had said,were worth forty millions. Louis remained for an instantbewildered. As for Mazarin, he appeared only to have saidsomething quite natural. A little scratching was heard alongthe curtains of the alcove. Mazarin understood: "Yes, yes!"cried he warmly, "yes, sire, I recommend to you a wise man,an honest man, and a clever man."

"Tell me his name, my lord."

"His name is yet almost unknown, sire; it is M. Colbert, myattendant. Oh! try him," added Mazarin, in an earnest voice;"all that he has predicted has come to pass, he has a safeglance, he is never mistaken either in things or in men - which is more surprising still. Sire, I owe you much, but Ithink I acquit myself of all towards you in giving you M.Colbert."

"So be it," said Louis, faintly, for, as Mazarin had said,the name of Colbert was quite unknown to him, and he thoughtthe enthusiasm of the cardinal partook of the delirium of adying man. The cardinal sank back on his pillows.

"For the present, adieu, sire! adieu," murmured Mazarin. "Iam tired, and I have yet a rough journey to take before Ipresent myself to my new Master. Adieu, sire!"

The young king felt the tears rise to his eyes; he bent overthe dying man, already half a corpse, and then hastilyretired.