y brought this idea and the eighty pistoles to
the surintendant."

"Oh! indeed," was the general acclamation from all parts of the room,
"M. de la Fontaine is in funds to-day."

"Heaven bless the idea, if it only brings us one or two millions," said
Fouquet, gayly.

"Exactly," replied La Fontaine.

"Quick, quick!" cried the assembly.

"Take care," said Pellisson in La Fontaine's ear; "you have had a most
brilliant success up to the present moment, so do not go too far."

"Not at all, Monsieur Pellisson; and you, who are a man of decided
taste, will be the first to approve of what I have done."

"We are talking of millions, remember," said Gourville.

"I have fifteen hundred thousand francs here, Monsieur Gourville," he
replied, striking himself on the chest.

"The deuce take this Gascon from Chateau-Thierry!" cried Loret.

"It is not the pocket you should touch, but the brain," said Fouquet.

"Stay a moment, Monsieur le Surintendant," added La Fontaine; "you are
not procureur-general--you are a poet."

"True, true!" cried Loret, Conrart, and every person present connected
with literature.

"You are, I repeat, a poet and a painter, a sculptor, a friend of the
arts and sciences; but acknowledge that you are no lawyer."

"Oh! I do acknowledge it," replied M. Fouquet, smiling.

"If you were to be nominated at the Academy, you would refuse, I think."

"I think I should, with all due deference to the academicians."

"Very good; if therefore you do not wish to belong to the Academy, why
do you allow yourself to form one of the parliament?"

"Oh! oh!" said Pellisson, "we are talking politics."

"I wish to know whether the barrister's gown does or does not become M.
Fouquet."

"There is no question of the gown at all," retorted Pellisson, annoyed
at the laughter of those who were present.

"On the contrary, it is the gown," said Loret.

"Take the gown away from the procureur-general," said Conrart, "and we
have M. Fouquet left us still, of whom we have no reason to complain;
but, as he is no procureur-general without his gown, we agree with M. de
la Fontaine, and pronounce the gown to be nothing but a bugbear."

"_Fugiunt risus leporesque_," said Loret.

"The smiles and the graces," said some one present.

"That is not the way," said Pellisson, gravely, "that I translate
_lepores_."

"How do you translate it?" said La Fontaine.

"Thus: the hares run away as soon as they see M. Fouquet." A burst o