o drag Fouquet to the carriage. "To the Palais at
full speed!" cried Pelisson to the coachman. The horses set off like
lightening; no obstacle relaxed their pace for an instant. Only, at the
arcade Saint-Jean, as they were coming out upon the Place de Greve, a
long file of horsemen, barring the narrow passage, stopped the carriage
of the superintendent. There was no means of forcing this barrier; it
was necessary to wait till the mounted archers of the watch, for it was
they who stopped the way, had passed with the heavy carriage they
were escorting, and which ascended rapidly towards the Place Baudoyer.
Fouquet and Pelisson took no further account of this circumstance beyond
deploring the minute's delay they had thus to submit to. They entered
the habitation of the _concierge du Palais_ five minutes after. That
officer was still walking about in the front court. At the name
of Fouquet, whispered in his ear by Pelisson, the governor eagerly
approached the carriage, and, hat in hand, was profuse in his
attentions. "What an honor for me, monseigneur," said he.

"One word, monsieur le governeur, will you take the trouble to get into
my carriage?" The officer placed himself opposite Fouquet in the coach.

"Monsieur," said Fouquet, "I have a service to ask of you."

"Speak, monseigneur."

"A service that will be compromising for you, monsieur, but which will
assure to you forever my protection and my friendship."

"Were it to cast myself into the fire for you, monseigneur, I would do
it."

"That is well," said Fouquet; "what I require is much more simple."

"That being so, monseigneur, what is it?"

"To conduct me to the chamber of Messieurs Lyodot and D'Eymeris."

"Will monseigneur have the kindness to say for what purpose?"

"I will tell you that in their presence, monsieur; at the same time that
I will give you ample means of palliating this escape."

"Escape! Why, then, monseigneur does not know?"

"What?"

"That Messieurs Lyodot and D'Eymeris are no longer here."

"Since when?" cried Fouquet, in great agitation.

"About a quarter of an hour."

"Whither have they gone, then?"

"To Vincennes--to the donjon."

"Who took them from here?"

"An order from the king."

"Oh! woe! woe!" exclaimed Fouquet, striking his forehead. "Woe!" and
without saying a single word more to the governor, he threw himself back
into his carriage, despair in his heart, and death on his countenance.

"Well!" said Pelisson,