The Vicomte de Bragelonne. Alexandre Dumas
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do you mean?"
"What, have you forgotten already? I mean La Valliere."
"Ah! of course, of course."
"Do you object, then, to try and make a conquest of her?"
"In one respect only, my heart is engaged in another direction; and I positively do not care about the girl in the least."
"Oh! oh!" said Aramis, "your heart is engaged, you say. The deuce! we must take care of that!"
"Why?"
"Because it is terrible to have the heart occupied, when others, beside yourself, have so much need of the head."
"You are right. So, you see, at your first summons, I left everything. But to return to this girl. What good do you see in my troubling myself about her?"
"This.—The king, it is said, has taken a fancy to her; at least, so it is supposed."
"But you, who know everything, know very differently."
"I know that the king has changed with great rapidity; that the day before yesterday, he was mad about Madame; that a few days ago, Monsieur complained of it, even to the queen-mother; and that some conjugal misunderstandings and maternal scoldings were the consequence."
"How do you know all that?"
"I do know it; at all events, since these misunderstandings and scoldings the king has not addressed a word, has not paid the slightest attention, to her royal highness."
"Well, what next?"
"Since then, he has been taken up with Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Now, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is one of Madame's maids of honor. You happen to know, I suppose, what is called a chaperon in matters of love. Well, then, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is Madame's chaperon. It is for you, therefore, to take advantage of this state of things. You have no occasion for me to tell you that. But, at all events, wounded vanity will render the conquest an easier one; the girl will get hold of the king, and Madame's secret, and you can hardly tell what a man of intelligence can do with a secret."
"But how to get at her?"
"Nay, you, of all men, to ask me such a question?" said Aramis.
"Very true. I shall not have any time to take any notice of her."
"She is poor and unassuming, you will create a position for her, and, whether she becomes the king's master, or his mistress, or whether she only becomes his confidant, you will only have made a new proficient."
"Very good," said Fouquet. "What is to be done, then, with regard to this girl?"
"Whenever you have taken a fancy to any lady, Monsieur Fouquet, what steps have you taken?"
"I have written to her, protesting my devotion to her. I have added, how happy I should be to render her any service in my power, and have signed 'Fouquet' at the end of the letter."
"And has any one offered any resistance?"
"One person only," replied Fouquet. "But, four days ago, she yielded, as the others had done."
"Will you take the trouble to write?" said Aramis, holding a pen toward him, which Fouquet took, saying:
"I will write at your dictation. My head is so taken up in another direction that I should not be able to write a couple of lines."
"Very well," said Aramis, "write."
And he dictated as follows: "I have seen, and you will not be surprised to learn, how beautiful I have found you. But, for want of the position you merit at the court, your presence there is a waste of time. The devotion of a man of honor, should ambition of any kind inspire you, might possibly serve as a means of display for your talents and beauty. I place my devotion at your feet; but, as an affection, however reserved and unpresuming it may be, might possibly compromise the object of its worship, it would ill-become a person of your merit running the risk of being compromised, without her future being insured. If you would deign to accept and reply to my affection, my affection shall prove its gratitude to you in making you free and independent forever." Having finished writing, Fouquet looked at Aramis.
"Sign it," said the latter.
"Is it absolutely necessary?"
"Your signature at the foot of that letter is worth a million; you forget that." Fouquet signed.
"Now, by whom do you intend to send the letter?" asked Aramis.
"By an excellent servant of mine."
"Can you rely on him?"
"He is a man who has been with me all my life."
"Very well. Besides, in this case, we are not playing for very heavy stakes."
"How so? For if what you say be true of the accommodating disposition of this girl for the king and Madame, the king will give her all the money she can ask for."
"The king has money, then?" asked Aramis.
"I suppose so, for he has not asked me for any more."
"Be easy; he will ask for some soon."
"Nay, more than that, I had thought he would have spoken to me about the fete at Vaux, but he never said a word about it."
"He will be sure to do so, though."
"You must think the king's disposition a very cruel one, Monsieur d'Herblay."
"It is not he who is so."
"He is young, and therefore his disposition is a kind one."
"He is young, and either he is weak, or his passions are strong; and Monsieur Colbert holds his weaknesses and his passions in his villainous grasp."
"You admit that you fear him?—"
"I do not deny it."
"In that case I am lost."
"Why so?"
"My only influence with the king has been through the money I commanded, and now I am a ruined man."
"Not so."
"What do you mean by 'not so?' Do you know my affairs better than myself?"
"That is not unlikely."
"If he were to request this fete to be given?"
"You will give it, of course."
"But where is the money to come from?"
"Have you ever been in want of any?"
"Oh, if you only knew at what a cost I procured the last supply!"
"The next shall cost you nothing."
"But who will give it me?"
"I will."
"What! give me six millions?"
"Ten, if necessary."
"Upon my word, D'Herblay," said Fouquet, "your confidence alarms me more than the king's displeasure. Who can you possibly be, after all?"
"You know me well enough, I should think."
"Of course; but what is it you are aiming at?"
"I wish to see upon the throne of France a king devoted to Monsieur Fouquet, and I wish Monsieur Fouquet to be devoted to me."
"Oh!" exclaimed Fouquet, pressing his hand, "as for belonging to you. I am yours entirely: but believe me, my dear D'Herblay, you are deceiving yourself."
"In what respect?"
"The king will never become devoted to me."
"I do not remember to have said that the king would be devoted to you."
"Why, on the contrary, you have this moment said so."
"I