er glass with a faltering hand, and her trembling fingers
touched those of Fouquet, her look, full of love, found its reflection
and response in that of her ardent and generous-hearted lover. Begun in
this manner, the supper soon became a fete; no one tried to be witty,
for no one failed in being so. La Fontaine forgot his Gorgny wine and
allowed Vatel to reconcile him to the wines of the Rhone and those from
the shores of Spain. The Abbe Fouquet became so kind and good-natured
that Gourville said to him, "Take care, Monsieur l'Abbe; if you are so
tender, you will be eaten."

The hours passed away so joyously, that, contrary to his usual custom,
the surintendant did not leave the table before the end of the dessert.
He smiled upon his friends, delighted as a man is, whose heart becomes
intoxicated before his head--and, for the first time, he had just looked
at the clock. Suddenly, a carriage rolled into the courtyard, and,
strange to say, it was heard high above the noise of the mirth which
prevailed. Fouquet listened attentively, and then turned his eyes toward
the antechamber. It seemed as if he could hear a step passing across it,
and that this step, instead of pressing the ground, weighed heavily upon
his heart. "M. d'Herblay, bishop of Vannes," the usher announced. And
Aramis' grave and thoughtful face appeared upon the threshold of the
door, between the remains of two garlands, of which the flame of a lamp
had just burned the thread that had united them.

CHAPTER LV.

M. DE MAZARIN'S RECEIPT.

Fouquet would have uttered an exclamation of delight on seeing another
friend arrive if the cold air and averted aspect of Aramis had not
restored all his reserve. "Are you going to join us at our dessert?" he
asked. "And yet you would be frightened, perhaps, at the noise which our
wild friends here are making?"

"Monseigneur," replied Aramis, respectfully, "I will begin by begging
you to excuse me for having interrupted this merry meeting; and then I
will beg you to give me, as soon as pleasure shall have finished, a
moment's audience on matters of business."

As the word "business" had aroused the attention of some of the
epicureans present, Fouquet rose, saying: "Business first of all,
Monsieur d'Herblay; we are too happy when matters of business arrive
only at the end of a meal."

As he said this, he took the hand of Madame de Belliere, who looked at
him with a kind of uneasiness, and then led her to an a