you, I pray? Besides, if I fall, you fall
with me."

"It would then be more prudent, monsieur, not to stir in the affair, and
leave the king to take this little satisfaction."

"Think well of this, abbe, Lyodot and D'Eymeris at Vincennes are a
prelude of ruin for my house. I repeat it--I arrested, you will be
imprisoned--I imprisoned, you will be exiled."

"Monsieur, I am at your orders; have you any to give me?"

"What I told you--I wish that, to-morrow, the two financiers of whom
they mean to make victims, whilst there remain so many criminals
unpunished, should be snatched from the fury of my enemies. Take your
measures accordingly. Is it possible?"

"It is possible."

"Describe your plan."

"It is of rich simplicity. The ordinary guard at executions consists of
twelve archers."

"There will be a hundred to-morrow."

"I reckon so. I even say more--there will be two hundred."

"Then your hundred and twenty men will not be enough."

"Pardon me. In every crowd composed of a hundred thousand spectators,
there are ten thousand bandits or cut-purses--only they dare not take
the initiative."

"Well?"

"There will then be, to-morrow, on the Place de Greve, which I choose as
my battle-field, ten thousand auxiliaries to my hundred and twenty men.
The attack commenced by the latter, the others will finish it."

"That all appears feasible. But what will be done with regard to the
prisoners upon the Place de Greve?"

"This: they must be thrust into some house--that will make a siege
necessary to get them out again. And stop! here is another idea, more
sublime still: certain houses have two issues--one upon the Place,
and the other into the Rue de la Mortellerie, or la Vannerie, or
la Tixeranderie. The prisoners entering by one door will go out at
another."

"Yes; but fix upon something positive."

"I am seeking to do so."

"And I," cried Fouquet, "I have found it. Listen to what has occurred to
me at this moment."

"I am listening."

Fouquet made a sign to Gourville, who appeared to understand. "One of
my friends lends me sometimes the keys of a house which he rents, Rue
Baudoyer, the spacious gardens of which extend behind a certain house on
the Place de Greve."

"That is the place for us," said the abbe. "What house?"

"A _cabaret_, pretty well frequented, whose sign represents the image of
Notre Dame."

"I know it," said the abbe.

"This _cabaret_ has windows opening upon the Place, a place o