ests; but it was no longer the same pale, spiritless countenance they
had beheld when he left them; from pale he had become livid; and from
spiritless, annihilated. A living specter, he advanced with his arms
stretched out, his mouth parched, like a shade that comes to salute
friends of former days. On seeing him thus, every one cried out, and
every one rushed toward Fouquet. The latter, looking at Pellisson,
leaned upon the surintendante, and pressed the icy hand of the Marquise
de Belliere.

"Well!" said he, in a voice which had nothing human in it.

"What has happened, my God!" said some one to him.

Fouquet opened his right hand, which was clenched, humid, and displayed
a paper, upon which Pellisson cast a terrified glance. He read the
following lines, written by the king's hand:

"'DEAR AND WELL-BELOVED MONSIEUR FOUQUET--Give us, upon
that which you have left of ours, the sum of seven hundred thousand
livres, of which we stand in need to prepare for our departure.

"'And, as we know your health is not good, we pray God to restore
you to health, and to have you in His holy keeping. LOUIS.

"'The present letter is to serve as a receipt.'"

A murmur of terror circulated through the apartment.

"Well!" cried Pellisson, in his turn, "you have received that letter?"

"Received it, yes!"

"What will you do, then?"

"Nothing, since I have received it."

"But--"

"If I have received it, Pellisson, I have paid it," said the
surintendant, with a simplicity that went to the heart of all present.

"You have paid it!" cried Madame Fouquet. "Then we are ruined!"

"Come, no useless words," interrupted Pellisson. "After money, life.
Monseigneur, to horse! to horse!"

"What, leave us!" at once cried both the women, wild with grief.

"Eh! monseigneur, in saving yourself, you save us all. To horse!"

"But he cannot hold himself on. Look at him."

"Oh! if he takes time to reflect--" said the intrepid Pellisson.

"He is right," murmured Fouquet.

"Monseigneur! monseigneur!" cried Gourville, rushing up the stairs, four
steps at once. "Monseigneur!"

"Well! What?"

"I escorted, as you desired, the king's courier with the money."

"Yes."

"Well! when I arrived at the Palais Royal, I saw--"

"Take breath, my poor friend, take breath; you are suffocating."

"What did you see?" cried the impatient friends.

"I saw the musketeers mounting on horseback," said Gourville.