Fouquet, on leaving his house for the second time that day,felt himself less heavy and less disturbed than might havebeen expected. He turned towards Pellisson, who wasmeditating in the corner of the carriage some good argumentsagainst the violent proceedings of Colbert.

"My dear Pellisson," said Fouquet, "it is a great pity youare not a woman."

"I think, on the contrary, it is very fortunate," repliedPellisson, "for, monseigneur, I am excessively ugly."

"Pellisson! Pellisson!" said the superintendent, laughing:"you repeat too often you are `ugly,' not to leave people tobelieve that it gives you much pain."

"In fact it does, monseigneur, much pain; there is no manmore unfortunate than I: I was handsome, the smallpoxrendered me hideous; I am deprived of a great means ofattraction; now, I am your principal clerk or something ofthat sort; I take great interest in your affairs, and if, atthis moment, I were a pretty woman, I could render you animportant service."

"What?"

"I would go and find the concierge of the Palais. I wouldseduce him, for he is a gallant man, extravagantly partialto women; then I would get away our two prisoners."

"I hope to be able to do so myself, although I am not apretty woman," replied Fouquet.

"Granted, monseigneur; but you are compromising yourselfvery much."

"Oh!" cried Fouquet, suddenly, with one of those secrettransports which the generous blood of youth, or theremembrance of some sweet emotion, infuses into the heart."Oh! I know a woman who will enact the personage we stand inneed of, with the lieutenant-governor of the conciergerie."

"And, on my part, I know fifty, monseigneur; fifty trumpets,which will inform the universe of your generosity, of yourdevotion to your friends, and, consequently, will ruin yousooner or later in ruining themselves."

"I do not speak of such women, Pellisson, I speak of a nobleand beautiful creature who joins to the intelligence and witof her sex the valor and coolness of ours; I speak of awoman, handsome enough to make the walls of a prison bowdown to salute her, discreet enough to let no one suspect bywhom she has been sent."

"A treasure!" said Pellisson, "you would make a famouspresent to monsieur the governor of the conciergerie! Peste!monseigneur, he might have his head cut off; but he would,before dying, have had such happiness as no man had enjoyedbefore him."

"And I add," said Fouquet, "that the concierge of the Palaiswould not have his head cut off, for he would receive of memy horses to effect his escape, and five hundred thousandlivres wherewith to live comfortably in England: I add, thatthis lady, my friend, would give him nothing but the horsesand the money. Let us go and seek her, Pellisson."

The superintendent reached forth his hand towards the goldand silken cord placed in the interior of his carriage, butPellisson stopped him. "Monseigneur," said he, "you aregoing to lose as much time in seeking this lady as Columbustook to discover the new world. Now, we have but two hoursin which we can possibly succeed; the concierge once gone tobed, how shall we get at him without making a disturbance?When daylight dawns, how can we conceal our proceedings? Go,go yourself, monseigneur, and do not seek either woman orangel to-night."

"But, my dear Pellisson, here we are before her door."

"What! before the angel's door?"

"Why, yes!"

"This is the hotel of Madame de Belliere!"

"Hush!"

"Ah! Good Lord!" exclaimed Pellisson.

"What have you to say against her?"

"Nothing, alas! and it is that which causes my despair.Nothing, absolutely nothing. Why can I not, on the contrary,say ill enough of her to prevent your going to her?"

But Fouquet had already given orders to stop, and thecarriage was motionless. "Prevent me!" cried Fouquet; "why,no power on earth should prevent my going to pay mycompliments to Madame de Plessis-Belliere, besides, whoknows that we shall not stand in need of her!"

"No, monseigneur no!"

"But I do not wish you to wait for me, Pellisson," repliedFouquet, sincerely courteous.

"The more reason I should, monseigneur; knowing that you arekeeping me waiting, you will, perhaps, stay a shorter time.Take care! You see there is a carriage in the courtyard: shehas some one with her." Fouquet leant towards the steps ofthe carriage. "One word more," cried Pellisson; "do not goto this lady till you have been to the concierge, forHeaven's sake!"

"Eh! five minutes, Pellisson," replied Fouquet, alighting atthe steps of the hotel, leaving Pellisson in the carriage,in a very ill-humor. Fouquet ran upstairs, told his name tothe footman, which excited an eagerness and a respect thatshowed the habit the mistress of the house had of honoringthat name in her family. "Monsieur le surintendant," criedthe marquise, advancing, very pale, to meet him; "what anhonor! what an unexpected pleasure!" said she. Then, in alow voice, "Take care!" added the marquise, "MargueriteVanel is here!"

"Madame," replied Fouquet, rather agitated, "I came onbusiness. One single word, and quickly, if you please!" Andhe entered the salon. Madame Vanel had risen, paler, morelivid, than Envy herself. Fouquet in vain addressed her,with the most agreeable, most pacific salutation; she onlyreplied by a terrible glance darted at the marquise andFouquet. This keen glance of a jealous woman is a stilettowhich pierces every cuirass; Marguerite Vanel plunged itstraight into the hearts of the two confidants. She made acourtesy to her friend, a more profound one to Fouquet, andtook leave, under pretense of having a number of visits tomake, without the marquise trying to prevent her, orFouquet, a prey to anxiety, thinking further about her. Shewas scarcely out of the room, and Fouquet left alone withthe marquise, before he threw himself on his knees, withoutsaying a word. "I expected you," said the marquise, with atender sigh.

"Oh! no," cried he, "or you would have sent away thatwoman."

"She has been here little more than half an hour, and I hadno expectation she would come this evening."

"You love me just a little, then, marquise?"

"That is not the question now; it is of your danger; how areyour affairs going on?"

"I am going this evening to get my friends out of theprisons of the Palais."

"How will you do that?"

"By buying and bribing the governor."

"He is a friend of mine; can I assist you, without injuringyou?"

"Oh! marquise, it would be a signal service; but how can yoube employed without your being compromised? Now, never shallmy life, my power, or even my liberty, be purchased at theexpense of a single tear from your eyes, or of one frown ofpain upon your brow."

"Monseigneur, no more such words, they bewilder me; I havebeen culpable in trying to serve you, without calculatingthe extent of what I was doing. I love you in reality, as atender friend; and as a friend, I am grateful for yourdelicate attentions - but, alas! - alas! you will neverfind a mistress in me."

"Marquise!" cried Fouquet, in a tone of despair; "why not?"

"Because you are too much beloved," said the young woman, ina low voice; "because you are too much beloved by too manypeople - because the splendor of glory and fortune wound myeyes, whilst the darkness of sorrow attracts them; because,in short, I, who have repulsed you in your proudmagnificence; I who scarcely looked at you in your splendor,I came, like a mad woman, to throw myself, as it were, intoyour arms, when I saw a misfortune hovering over your head.You understand me now, monseigneur? Become happy again, thatI may remain chaste in heart and in thought; your misfortuneentails my ruin."

"Oh! madame," said Fouquet, with an emotion he had neverbefore felt; "were I to fall to the lowest degree of humanmisery, and hear from your mouth that word which you nowrefuse me, that day, madame, you will be mistaken in yournoble egotism; that day you will fancy you are consoling themost unfortunate of men, and you will have said, I love you,to the most illustrious, the most delighted, the mosttriumphant of the happy beings of this world."

He was still at her feet, kissing her hand, when Pellissonentered precipitately, crying, in very ill-humor,"Monseigneur! madame! for Heaven's sake! excuse me.Monseigneur, you have been here half an hour. Oh! do notboth look at me so reproachfully. Madame, pray who is thatlady who left your house soon after monseigneur came in?"

"Madame Vanel," said Fouquet.

"Ha!" cried Pellisson, "I was sure of that."

"Well! what then?"

"Why, she got into her carriage, looking deadly pale."

"What consequence is that to me?"

"Yes, but what she said to her coachman is of consequence toyou."

"Kind heaven!" cried the marquise, "what was that?"

"To M. Colbert's!" said Pellisson, in a hoarse voice.

"Bon Dieu! - begone, begone, monseigneur!" replied themarquise, pushing Fouquet out of the salon, whilst Pellissondragged him by the hand.

"Am I, then, indeed," said the superintendent, "become achild, to be frightened by a shadow?"

"You are a giant," said the marquise, "whom a viper istrying to bite in the heel."

Pellisson continued to drag Fouquet to the carriage. "To thePalais at full speed!" cried Pellisson to the coachman. Thehorses set off like lightning; no obstacle relaxed theirpace for an instant. Only, at the arcade Saint-Jean, as theywere coming out upon the Place de Greve, a long file ofhorsemen, barring the narrow passage, stopped the carriageof the superintendent. There was no means of forcing thisbarrier; it was necessary to wait till the mounted archersof the watch, for it was they who stopped the way, hadpassed with the heavy carriage they were escorting, andwhich ascended rapidly towards the Place Baudoyer. Fouquetand Pellisson took no further account of this circumstancebeyond deploring the minute's delay they had thus to submitto. They entered the habitation of the concierge du Palaisfive minutes after. That officer was still walking about inthe front court. At the name of Fouquet, whispered in hisear by Pellisson, the governor eagerly approached thecarriage, and, hat in his hand, was profuse in hisattentions. "What an honor for me, monseigneur," said he.

"One word, monsieur le gouverneur, will you take the troubleto get into my carriage?" The officer placed himselfopposite Fouquet in the coach.

"Monsieur," said Fouquet, "I have a service to ask of you."

"Speak, monseigneur."

"A service that will be compromising for you, monsieur, butwhich will assure to you forever my protection and myfriendship."

"Were it to cast myself into the fire for you, monseigneur,I would do it."

"That is well," said Fouquet; "what I require is much moresimple."

"That being so, monseigneur, what is it?"

"To conduct me to the chamber of Messieurs Lyodot andD'Eymeris."

"Will monseigneur have the kindness to say for whatpurpose?"

"I will tell you in their presence, monsieur; at the sametime that I will give you ample means of palliating thisescape."

"Escape! Why, then, monseigneur does not know?"

"What?"

"That Messieurs Lyodot and D'Eymeris are no longer here."

"Since when?" cried Fouquet, in great agitation.

"About a quarter of an hour."

"Whither have they gone, then?"

"To Vincennes - to the donjon."

"Who took them from here?"

"An order from the king."

"Oh! woe! woe!" exclaimed Fouquet, striking his forehead."Woe!" and without saying a single word more to thegovernor, he threw himself back in his carriage, despair inhis heart, and death on his countenance.

"Well!" said Pellisson, with great anxiety.

"Our friends are lost. Colbert is conveying them to thedonjon. They crossed our very path under the arcadeSaint-Jean."

Pellisson, struck as by a thunderbolt, made no reply. With asingle reproach he would have killed his master. "Where ismonseigneur going?" said the footman.

"Hone - to Paris. You, Pellisson, return to Saint-Mande,and bring the Abbe Fouquet to me within an hour. Begone!"