unts, could well afford to assign as a pretext for
his conduct, that in hating and doing his utmost to ruin M. Fouquet, he
had nothing in view but the welfare of the state and the dignity of the
crown. None of these details escaped Fouquet's observation; through his
enemy's thick, bushy brows, and despite the restless movement of his
eyelids, he could, by merely looking at his eyes, penetrate to the very
bottom of Colbert's heart, and he read to what an unbounded extent hate
toward himself and triumph at his approaching fall existed there. But,
as in observing everything, he wished to remain himself impenetrable, he
composed his features, smiled with that charmingly sympathetic smile
which was peculiarly his own, and saluted the king with the most
dignified and graceful ease and elasticity of manner. "Sire," he said,
"I perceive by your majesty's joyous air that you have been gratified
with the promenade."

"Most gratified, indeed, Monsieur le Surintendant, most gratified. You
were very wrong not to come with us, as I invited you to do."

"I was working, sire," replied the surintendant, who did not even seem
to take the trouble to turn aside his head even in the merest
recognition of Colbert's presence.

"Ah! M. Fouquet," cried the king, "there is nothing like the country. I
should be very delighted to live in the country always, in the open air
and under the trees."

"I should hope that your majesty is not yet weary of the throne," said
Fouquet.

"No: but thrones of soft turf are very delightful."

"Your majesty gratifies my utmost wishes in speaking in that manner, for
I have a request to submit to you."

"On whose behalf, monsieur?"

"On behalf of the nymphs of Vaux, sire."

"Ah! ah!" said Louis XIV.

"Your majesty, too, once deigned to make me a promise," said Fouquet.

"Yes, I remember it."

"The fete at Vaux, the celebrated fete, I think, it was, sire," said
Colbert, endeavoring to show his importance by taking part in the
conversation.

Fouquet, with the profoundest contempt, did not take the slightest
notice of the remark, as if, as far as he was concerned, Colbert had not
even thought or said a word.

"Your majesty is aware," he said, "that I destine my estate at Vaux to
receive the most amiable of princes, the most powerful of monarchs."

"I have given you my promise, monsieur," said Louis XIV., smiling; "and
a king never departs from his word."

"And I have come now, sire, to inform your