a prey
to the intrigues of a pack of women and clerks? For shame! If he
be dangerous, I will lay him low enough; if, however, he be
only persecuted, I will look on. I have come to such a decisive
determination, that neither king nor living man shall change my mind.
If Athos were here, he would do as I have done. Therefore, instead of
going, in cold blood, up to M. Fouquet, and arresting him off-hand and
shutting him up altogether, I will try and conduct myself like a man who
understands what good manners are. People will talk about it, of course;
but they shall talk well of it, I am determined." And D'Artagnan,
drawing by a gesture peculiar to himself his shoulder-belt over his
shoulder, went straight off to M. Fouquet, who, after he had taken
leave of his guests, was preparing to retire for the night and to sleep
tranquilly after the triumphs of the day. The air was still perfumed,
or infected, whichever way it may be considered, with the odors of
the torches and the fireworks. The wax-lights were dying away in their
sockets, the flowers fell unfastened from the garlands, the groups of
dancers and courtiers were separating in the salons. Surrounded by his
friends, who complimented him and received his flattering remarks in
return, the surintendant half-closed his wearied eyes. He longed for
rest and quiet; he sank upon the bed of laurels which had been heaped
up for him for so many days past; it might almost have been said that he
seemed bowed beneath the weight of the new debts which he had incurred
for the purpose of giving the greatest possible honor to this _fete_.
Fouquet had just retired to his room, still smiling, but more than
half-asleep. He could listen to nothing more, he could hardly keep his
eyes open; his bed seemed to possess a fascinating and irresistible
attraction for him. The god Morpheus, the presiding deity of the dome
painted by Lebrun, had extended his influence over the adjoining rooms,
and showered down his most sleep-inducing poppies upon the master of the
house. Fouquet, almost entirely alone, was being assisted by his _valet
de chambre_ to undress, when M. d'Artagnan appeared at the entrance of
the room. D'Artagnan had never been able to succeed in making himself
common at the court; and notwithstanding he was seen everywhere and
on all occasions, he never failed to produce an effect wherever and
whenever he made his appearance. Such is the happy privilege of certain
natures, which in that re