d after a brief disappearance.

"Will any one go with me?" he asked. "I am going by Paris, after having
passed a quarter of an hour with M. Fouquet. I offer my carriage."

"Good," said Moliere, "I accept it. I am in a hurry."

"I shall dine here," said Loret. "M. de Gourville has promised me some
craw-fish."

"He has promised me some whitings. Find a rhyme for that, La Fontaine."

Aramis went out laughing, as only he could laugh, and Moliere followed
him. They were at the bottom of the stairs, when La Fontaine opened the
door, and shouted out:

"He has promised us some whitings, In return for these our writings."

The shouts of laughter reached the ears of Fouquet at the moment Aramis
opened the door of the study. As to Moliere, he had undertaken to
order the horses, while Aramis went to exchange a parting word with the
superintendent. "Oh, how they are laughing there!" said Fouquet, with a
sigh.

"Do you not laugh, monseigneur?"

"I laugh no longer now, M. d'Herblay. The _fete_ is approaching; money
is departing."

"Have I not told you that was my business?"

"Yes, you promised me millions."

"You shall have them the day after the king's _entree_ into Vaux."

Fouquet looked closely at Aramis, and passed the back of his icy hand
across his moistened brow. Aramis perceived that the superintendent
either doubted him, or felt he was powerless to obtain the money. How
could Fouquet suppose that a poor bishop, ex-abbe, ex-musketeer, could
find any?

"Why doubt me?" said Aramis. Fouquet smiled and shook his head.

"Man of little faith!" added the bishop.

"My dear M. d'Herblay," answered Fouquet, "if I fall--"

"Well; if you 'fall'?"

"I shall, at least, fall from such a height, that I shall shatter myself
in falling." Then giving himself a shake, as though to escape from
himself, "Whence came you," said he, "my friend?"

"From Paris--from Percerin."

"And what have you been doing at Percerin's, for I suppose you attach no
great importance to our poets' dresses?"

"No; I went to prepare a surprise."

"Surprise?"

"Yes; which you are going to give to the king."

"And will it cost much?"

"Oh! a hundred pistoles you will give Lebrun."

"A painting?--Ah! all the better! And what is this painting to
represent?"

"I will tell you; then at the same time, whatever you may say or think
of it, I went to see the dresses for our poets."

"Bah! and they will be rich and elegant?"

"Splendid! There