Chapter XIX. The Shadow of M. Fouquet.

by Alexandre Dumas

　　D'Artagnan, still confused and oppressed by the conversation he had justhad with the king, could not resist asking himself if he were really inpossession of his senses, if he were really and truly at Vaux; if he,D'Artagnan, were really the captain of the musketeers, and M. Fouquet theowner of the chateau in which Louis XIV. was at that moment partaking ofhis hospitality. These reflections were not those of a drunken man,although everything was in prodigal profusion at Vaux, and thesurintendant's wines had met with a distinguished reception at thefete. The Gascon, however, was a man of calm self-possession; and nosooner did he touch his bright steel blade, than he knew how to adoptmorally the cold, keen weapon as his guide of action."Well," he said, as he quitted the royal apartment, "I seem now to bemixed up historically with the destinies of the king and of the minister;it will be written, that M. d'Artagnan, a younger son of a Gascon family,placed his hand on the shoulder of M. Nicolas Fouquet, the surintendantof the finances of France. My descendants, if I have any, will flatterthemselves with the distinction which this arrest will confer, just asthe members of the De Luynes family have done with regard to the estatesof the poor Marechal d'Ancre. But the thing is, how best to execute theking's directions in a proper manner. Any man would know how to say toM. Fouquet, 'Your sword, monsieur.' But it is not every one who would beable to take care of M. Fouquet without others knowing anything aboutit. How am I to manage, then, so that M. le surintendant pass from theheight of favor to the direst disgrace; that Vaux be turned into adungeon for him; that after having been steeped to his lips, as it were,in all the perfumes and incense of Ahasuerus, he is transferred to thegallows of Haman; in other words, of Enguerrand de Marigny?" And at thisreflection, D'Artagnan's brow became clouded with perplexity. Themusketeer had certain scruples on the matter, it must be admitted. Todeliver up to death (for not a doubt existed that Louis hated Fouquetmortally) the man who had just shown himself so delightful and charming ahost in every way, was a real insult to one's conscience. "It almostseems," said D'Artagnan to himself, "that if I am not a poor, mean,miserable fellow, I should let M. Fouquet know the opinion the king hasabout him. Yet, if I betray my master's secret, I shall be a false-hearted, treacherous knave, a traitor, too, a crime provided for andpunishable by military laws - so much so, indeed, that twenty times, informer days when wars were rife, I have seen many a miserable fellowstrung up to a tree for doing, in but a small degree, what my scruplescounsel me to undertake upon a great scale now. No, I think that a manof true readiness of wit ought to get out of this difficulty with moreskill than that. And now, let us admit that I do possess a littlereadiness of invention; it is not at all certain, though, for, afterhaving for forty years absorbed so large a quantity, I shall be lucky ifthere were to be a pistole's-worth left." D'Artagnan buried his head inhis hands, tore at his mustache in sheer vexation, and added, "What canbe the reason of M. Fouquet's disgrace? There seem to be three goodones: the first, because M. Colbert doesn't like him; the second, becausehe wished to fall in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and lastly,because the king likes M. Colbert and loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere.Oh! he is lost! But shall I put my foot on his neck, I, of all men, whenhe is falling a prey to the intrigues of a pack of women and clerks? Forshame! If he be dangerous, I will lay him low enough; if, however, he beonly persecuted, I will look on. I have come to such a decisivedetermination, that neither king nor living man shall change my mind. IfAthos were here, he would do as I have done. Therefore, instead ofgoing, in cold blood, up to M. Fouquet, and arresting him off-hand andshutting him up altogether, I will try and conduct myself like a man whounderstands what good manners are. People will talk about it, of course;but they shall talk well of it, I am determined." And D'Artagnan,drawing by a gesture peculiar to himself his shoulder-belt over hisshoulder, went straight off to M. Fouquet, who, after he had taken leaveof his guests, was preparing to retire for the night and to sleeptranquilly after the triumphs of the day. The air was still perfumed, orinfected, whichever way it may be considered, with the odors of thetorches and the fireworks. The wax-lights were dying away in theirsockets, the flowers fell unfastened from the garlands, the groups ofdancers and courtiers were separating in the salons. Surrounded by hisfriends, who complimented him and received his flattering remarks inreturn, the surintendant half-closed his wearied eyes. He longed forrest and quiet; he sank upon the bed of laurels which had been heaped upfor him for so many days past; it might almost have been said that heseemed bowed beneath the weight of the new debts which he had incurredfor the purpose of giving the greatest possible honor to this fete.Fouquet had just retired to his room, still smiling, but more than half-asleep. He could listen to nothing more, he could hardly keep his eyesopen; his bed seemed to possess a fascinating and irresistible attractionfor him. The god Morpheus, the presiding deity of the dome painted byLebrun, had extended his influence over the adjoining rooms, and showereddown his most sleep-inducing poppies upon the master of the house.Fouquet, almost entirely alone, was being assisted by his valet dechambre to undress, when M. d'Artagnan appeared at the entrance of theroom. D'Artagnan had never been able to succeed in making himself commonat the court; and notwithstanding he was seen everywhere and on alloccasions, he never failed to produce an effect wherever and whenever hemade his appearance. Such is the happy privilege of certain natures,which in that respect resemble either thunder or lightning; every onerecognizes them; but their appearance never fails to arouse surprise andastonishment, and whenever they occur, the impression is always left thatthe last was the most conspicuous or most important."What! M. d'Artagnan?" said Fouquet, who had already taken his right armout of the sleeve of his doublet."At your service," replied the musketeer."Come in, my dear M. d'Artagnan.""Thank you.""Have you come to criticise the fete? You are ingenious enough in yourcriticisms, I know.""By no means.""Are not your men looked after properly?""In every way.""You are not comfortably lodged, perhaps?""Nothing could be better.""In that case, I have to thank you for being so amiably disposed, and Imust not fail to express my obligations to you for all your flatteringkindness."These words were as much as to say, "My dear D'Artagnan, pray go to bed,since you have a bed to lie down on, and let me do the same."D'Artagnan did not seem to understand it."Are you going to bed already?" he said to the superintendent."Yes; have you anything to say to me?""Nothing, monsieur, nothing at all. You sleep in this room, then?""Yes; as you see.""You have given a most charming fete to the king.""Do you think so?""Oh! beautiful!""Is the king pleased?""Enchanted.""Did he desire you to say as much to me?""He would not choose so unworthy a messenger, monseigneur.""You do not do yourself justice, Monsieur d'Artagnan.""Is that your bed, there?""Yes; but why do you ask? Are you not satisfied with your own?""My I speak frankly to you?""Most assuredly.""Well, then, I am not."Fouquet started; and then replied, "Will you take my room, Monsieurd'Artagnan?""What! deprive you of it, monseigneur? never!""What am I to do, then?""Allow me to share yours with you."Fouquet looked at the musketeer fixedly. "Ah! ah!" he said, "you havejust left the king.""I have, monseigneur.""And the king wishes you to pass the night in my room?""Monseigneur - ""Very well, Monsieur d'Artagnan, very well. You are the master here.""I assure you, monseigneur, that I do not wish to abuse - "Fouquet turned to his valet, and said, "Leave us." When the man hadleft, he said to D'Artagnan, "You have something to say to me?""I?""A man of your superior intelligence cannot have come to talk with a manlike myself, at such an hour as the present, without grave motives.""Do not interrogate me.""On the contrary. What do you want with me?""Nothing more than the pleasure of your society.""Come into the garden, then," said the superintendent suddenly, "or intothe park.""No," replied the musketeer, hastily, "no.""Why?""The fresh air - ""Come, admit at once that you arrest me," said the superintendent to thecaptain."Never!" said the latter."You intend to look after me, then?""Yes, monseigneur, I do, upon my honor.""Upon your honor - ah! that is quite another thing! So I am to bearrested in my own house.""Do not say such a thing.""On the contrary, I will proclaim it aloud.""If you do so, I shall be compelled to request you to be silent.""Very good! Violence towards me, and in my own house, too.""We do not seem to understand one another at all. Stay a moment; thereis a chess-board there; we will have a game, if you have no objections.""Monsieur d'Artagnan, I am in disgrace, then?""Not at all; but - ""I am prohibited, I suppose, from withdrawing from your sight.""I do not understand a word you are saying, monseigneur; and if you wishme to withdraw, tell me so.""My dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, your mode of action is enough to drive memad; I was almost sinking for want of sleep, but you have completelyawakened me.""I shall never forgive myself, I am sure; and if you wish to reconcile mewith myself, why, go to sleep in your bed in my presence; and I shall bedelighted.""I am under surveillance, I see.""I will leave the room if you say any such thing.""You are beyond my comprehension.""Good night, monseigneur," said D'Artagnan, as he pretended to withdraw.Fouquet ran after him. "I will not lie down," he said. "Seriously, andsince you refuse to treat me as a man, and since you finesse with me, Iwill try and set you at bay, as a hunter does a wild boar.""Bah!" cried D'Artagnan, pretending to smile."I shall order my horses, and set off for Paris," said Fouquet, soundingthe captain of the musketeers."If that be the case, monseigneur, it is very difficult.""You will arrest me, then?""No, but I shall go along with you.""That is quite sufficient, Monsieur d'Artagnan," returned Fouquet,coldly. "It was not for nothing you acquired your reputation as a man ofintelligence and resource; but with me all this is quite superfluous.Let us come to the point. Do me a service. Why do you arrest me? Whathave I done?""Oh! I know nothing about what you may have done; but I do not arrestyou - this evening, at least!""This evening!" said Fouquet, turning pale, "but to-morrow?""It is not to-morrow just yet, monseigneur. Who can ever answer for themorrow?""Quick, quick, captain! let me speak to M. d'Herblay.""Alas! that is quite impossible, monseigneur. I have strict orders tosee that you hold no communication with any one.""With M. d'Herblay, captain - with your friend!""Monseigneur, is M. d'Herblay the only person with whom you ought to beprevented holding any communication?"Fouquet colored, and then assuming an air of resignation, he said: "Youare right, monsieur; you have taught me a lesson I ought not to haveevoked. A fallen man cannot assert his right to anything, even fromthose whose fortunes he may have made; for a still stronger reason, hecannot claim anything from those to whom he may never have had thehappiness of doing a service.""Monseigneur!""It is perfectly true, Monsieur d'Artagnan; you have always acted in themost admirable manner towards me - in such a manner, indeed, as mostbecomes the man who is destined to arrest me. You, at least, have neverasked me anything.""Monsieur," replied the Gascon, touched by his eloquent and noble tone ofgrief, "will you - I ask it as a favor - pledge me your word as a man ofhonor that you will not leave this room?""What is the use of it, dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, since you keep watchand ward over me? Do you suppose I should contend against the mostvaliant sword in the kingdom?""It is not that, at all, monseigneur; but that I am going to look for M.d'Herblay, and, consequently, to leave you alone."Fouquet uttered a cry of delight and surprise."To look for M. d'Herblay! to leave me alone!" he exclaimed, clasping hishands together."Which is M. d'Herblay's room? The blue room is it not?""Yes, my friend, yes.""Your friend! thank you for that word, monseigneur; you confer it upon meto-day, at least, if you have never done so before.""Ah! you have saved me.""It will take a good ten minutes to go from hence to the blue room, andto return?" said D'Artagnan."Nearly so.""And then to wake Aramis, who sleeps very soundly, when he is asleep, Iput that down at another five minutes; making a total of fifteen minutes'absence. And now, monseigneur, give me your word that you will not inany way attempt to make your escape, and that when I return I shall findyou here again.""I give it, monsieur," replied Fouquet, with an expression of the warmest anddeepest gratitude.D'Artagnan disappeared. Fouquet looked at him as he quitted the room,waited with a feverish impatience until the door was closed behind him,and as soon as it was shut, flew to his keys, opened two or three secretdoors concealed in various articles of furniture in the room, lookedvainly for certain papers, which doubtless he had left at Saint-Mande,and which he seemed to regret not having found in them; then hurriedlyseizing hold of letters, contracts, papers, writings, he heaped them upinto a pile, which he burnt in the extremest haste upon the marble hearthof the fireplace, not even taking time to draw from the interior of itthe vases and pots of flowers with which it was filled. As soon as hehad finished, like a man who has just escaped an imminent danger, andwhose strength abandons him as soon as the danger is past, he sank down,completely overcome, on a couch. When D'Artagnan returned, he foundFouquet in the same position; the worthy musketeer had not the slightestdoubt that Fouquet, having given his word, would not even think offailing to keep it, but he had thought it most likely that Fouquet wouldturn his (D'Artagnan's) absence to the best advantage in getting rid ofall the papers, memorandums, and contracts, which might possibly renderhis position, which was even now serious enough, more dangerous thanever. And so, lifting up his head like a dog who has regained the scent,he perceived an odor resembling smoke he had relied on finding in theatmosphere, and having found it, made a movement of his head in token ofsatisfaction. As D'Artagnan entered, Fouquet, on his side, raised hishead, and not one of D'Artagnan's movements escaped him. And then thelooks of the two men met, and they both saw that they had understood eachother without exchanging a syllable."Well!" asked Fouquet, the first to speak, "and M. d'Herblay?""Upon my word, monseigneur," replied D'Artagnan, "M. d'Herblay must bedesperately fond of walking out at night, and composing verses bymoonlight in the park of Vaux, with some of your poets, in allprobability, for he is not in his own room.""What! not in his own room?" cried Fouquet, whose last hope thus escapedhim; for unless he could ascertain in what way the bishop of Vannes couldassist him, he perfectly well knew that he could expect assistance fromno other quarter."Or, indeed," continued D'Artagnan, "if he is in his own room, he has verygood reasons for not answering.""But surely you did not call him in such a manner that he could haveheard you?""You can hardly suppose, monseigneur, that having already exceeded myorders, which forbade me leaving you a single moment - you can hardlysuppose, I say, that I should have been mad enough to rouse the wholehouse and allow myself to be seen in the corridor of the bishop ofVannes, in order that M. Colbert might state with positive certainty thatI gave you time to burn your papers.""My papers?""Of course; at least that is what I should have done in your place. Whenany one opens a door for me I always avail myself of it.""Yes, yes, and I thank you, for I have availed myself of it.""And you have done perfectly right. Every man has his own peculiarsecrets with which others have nothing to do. But let us return toAramis, monseigneur.""Well, then, I tell you, you could not have called loud enough, or Aramiswould have heard you.""However softly any one may call Aramis, monseigneur, Aramis always hearswhen he has an interest in hearing. I repeat what I said before - Aramiswas not in his own room, or Aramis had certain reasons for notrecognizing my voice, of which I am ignorant, and of which you may beeven ignorant yourself, notwithstanding your liege-man is His Greatnessthe Lord Bishop of Vannes."Fouquet drew a deep sigh, rose from his seat, took three or four turns inhis room, and finished by seating himself, with an expression of extremedejection, upon his magnificent bed with velvet hangings, and costliestlace. D'Artagnan looked at Fouquet with feelings of the deepest andsincerest pity."I have seen a good many men arrested in my life," said the musketeer,sadly; "I have seen both M. de Cinq-Mars and M. de Chalais arrested,though I was very young then. I have seen M. de Conde arrested with theprinces; I have seen M. de Retz arrested; I have seen M. Brousselarrested. Stay a moment, monseigneur, it is disagreeable to have tosay, but the very one of all those whom you most resemble at this momentwas that poor fellow Broussel. You were very near doing as he did,putting your dinner napkin in your portfolio, and wiping your mouth withyour papers. Mordioux! Monseigneur Fouquet, a man like you ought notto be dejected in this manner. Suppose your friends saw you?""Monsieur d'Artagnan," returned the surintendant, with a smile full ofgentleness, "you do not understand me; it is precisely because my friendsare not looking on, that I am as you see me now. I do not live, existeven, isolated from others; I am nothing when left to myself. Understandthat throughout my whole life I have passed every moment of my time inmaking friends, whom I hoped to render my stay and support. In times ofprosperity, all these cheerful, happy voices - rendered so through and bymy means - formed in my honor a concert of praise and kindly actions. Inthe least disfavor, these humbler voices accompanied in harmoniousaccents the murmur of my own heart. Isolation I have never yet known.Poverty (a phantom I have sometimes beheld, clad in rags, awaiting me atthe end of my journey through life) - poverty has been the specter withwhich many of my own friends have trifled for years past, which theypoetize and caress, and which has attracted me towards them. Poverty! Iaccept it, acknowledge it, receive it, as a disinherited sister; forpoverty is neither solitude, nor exile, nor imprisonment. Is it likely Ishall ever be poor, with such friends as Pelisson, as La Fontaine, asMoliere? with such a mistress as - Oh! if you knew how utterly lonely anddesolate I feel at this moment, and how you, who separate me from all Ilove, seem to resemble the image of solitude, of annihilation - deathitself.""But I have already told you, Monsieur Fouquet," replied D'Artagnan,moved to the depths of his soul, "that you are woefully exaggerating.The king likes you.""No, no," said Fouquet, shaking his head."M. Colbert hates you.""M. Colbert! What does that matter to me?""He will ruin you.""Ah! I defy him to do that, for I am ruined already."At this singular confession of the superintendent, D'Artagnan cast hisglance all round the room; and although he did not open his lips, Fouquetunderstood him so thoroughly, that he added: "What can be done with suchwealth of substance as surrounds us, when a man can no longer cultivatehis taste for the magnificent? Do you know what good the greater part ofthe wealth and the possessions which we rich enjoy, confer upon us?merely to disgust us, by their very splendor even, with everything whichdoes not equal it! Vaux! you will say, and the wonders of Vaux! What ofit? What boot these wonders? If I am ruined, how shall I fill withwater the urns which my Naiads bear in their arms, or force the air intothe lungs of my Tritons? To be rich enough, Monsieur d'Artagnan, a manmust be too rich."D'Artagnan shook his head."Oh! I know very well what you think," replied Fouquet, quickly. "IfVaux were yours, you would sell it, and would purchase an estate in thecountry; an estate which should have woods, orchards, and land attached,so that the estate should be made to support its master. With fortymillions you might - ""Ten millions," interrupted D'Artagnan."Not a million, my dear captain. No one in France is rich enough to givetwo millions for Vaux, and to continue to maintain it as I have done; noone could do it, no one would know how.""Well," said D'Artagnan, "in any case, a million is not abject misery.""It is not far from it, my dear monsieur. But you do not understand me.No; I will not sell my residence at Vaux; I will give it to you, if youlike;" and Fouquet accompanied these words with a movement of theshoulders to which it would be impossible to do justice."Give it to the king; you will make a better bargain.""The king does not require me to give it to him," said Fouquet; "he willtake it away from me with the most absolute ease and grace, if it pleaseshim to do so; and that is the very reason I should prefer to see itperish. Do you know, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that if the king did nothappen to be under my roof, I would take this candle, go straight to thedome, and set fire to a couple of huge chests of fusees and fireworkswhich are in reserve there, and would reduce my palace to ashes.""Bah!" said the musketeer, negligently. "At all events, you would not beable to burn the gardens, and that is the finest feature of the place.""And yet," resumed Fouquet, thoughtfully, "what was I saying? Greatheavens! burn Vaux! destroy my palace! But Vaux is not mine; thesewonderful creations are, it is true, the property, as far as sense ofenjoyment goes, of the man who has paid for them; but as far as durationis concerned, they belong to those who created them. Vaux belongs toLebrun, to Lenotre, to Pelisson, to Levau, to La Fontaine, to Moliere;Vaux belongs to posterity, in fact. You see, Monsieur d'Artagnan, thatmy very house has ceased to be my own.""That is all well and good," said D'Artagnan; "the idea is agreeableenough, and I recognize M. Fouquet himself in it. That idea, indeed,makes me forget that poor fellow Broussel altogether; and I now fail torecognize in you the whining complaints of that old Frondeur. If youare ruined, monsieur, look at the affair manfully, for you too,mordioux! belong to posterity, and have no right to lessen yourself inany way. Stay a moment; look at me, I who seem to exercise in somedegree a kind of superiority over you, because I am arresting you; fate,which distributes their different parts to the comedians of this world,accorded me a less agreeable and less advantageous part to fill thanyours has been. I am one of those who think that the parts which kingsand powerful nobles are called upon to act are infinitely of more worththan the parts of beggars or lackeys. It is far better on the stage - onthe stage, I mean, of another theater than the theater of this world - itis far better to wear a fine coat and to talk a fine language, than towalk the boards shod with a pair of old shoes, or to get one's backbonegently polished by a hearty dressing with a stick. In one word, you havebeen a prodigal with money, you have ordered and been obeyed - have beensteeped to the lips in enjoyment; while I have dragged my tether afterme, have been commanded and have obeyed, and have drudged my life away.Well, although I may seem of such trifling importance beside you,monseigneur, I do declare to you, that the recollection of what I havedone serves me as a spur, and prevents me from bowing my old head toosoon. I shall remain unto the very end a trooper; and when my turncomes, I shall fall perfectly straight, all in a heap, still alive, afterhaving selected my place beforehand. Do as I do, Monsieur Fouquet, youwill not find yourself the worse for it; a fall happens only once in alifetime to men like yourself, and the chief thing is, to take itgracefully when the chance presents itself. There is a Latin proverb -the words have escaped me, but I remember the sense of it very well, forI have thought over it more than once - which says, 'The end crowns thework!'"Fouquet rose from his seat, passed his arm round D'Artagnan's neck, andclasped him in a close embrace, whilst with the other hand he pressed hishand. "An excellent homily," he said, after a moment's pause."A soldier's, monseigneur.""You have a regard for me, in telling me all that.""Perhaps."Fouquet resumed his pensive attitude once more, and then, a moment after,he said: "Where can M. d'Herblay be? I dare not ask you to send for him.""You would not ask me, because I would not do it, Monsieur Fouquet.People would learn it, and Aramis, who is not mixed up with the affair,might possibly be compromised and included in your disgrace.""I will wait here till daylight," said Fouquet."Yes; that is best.""What shall we do when daylight comes?""I know nothing at all about it, monseigneur.""Monsieur d'Artagnan, will you do me a favor?""Most willingly.""You guard me, I remain; you are acting in the full discharge of yourduty, I suppose?""Certainly.""Very good, then; remain as close to me as my shadow if you like; and Iinfinitely prefer such a shadow to any one else."D'Artagnan bowed to the compliment."But, forget that you are Monsieur d'Artagnan, captain of the musketeers;forget that I am Monsieur Fouquet, surintendant of the finances; and letus talk about my affairs.""That is rather a delicate subject.""Indeed?""Yes; but, for your sake, Monsieur Fouquet, I will do what may almost beregarded as an impossibility.""Thank you. What did the king say to you?""Nothing.""Ah! is that the way you talk?""The deuce!""What do you think of my situation?""I do not know.""However, unless you have some ill feeling against me - ""Your position is a difficult one.""In what respect?""Because you are under your own roof.""However difficult it may be, I understand it very well.""Do you suppose that, with any one else but yourself, I should haveshown so much frankness?""What! so much frankness, do you say? you, who refuse to tell me theslightest thing?""At all events, then, so much ceremony and consideration.""Ah! I have nothing to say in that respect.""One moment, monseigneur: let me tell you how I should have behavedtowards any one but yourself. It might be that I happened to arrive atyour door just as your guests or your friends had left you - or, if theyhad not gone yet, I should wait until they were leaving, and should thencatch them one after the other, like rabbits; I should lock them upquietly enough, I should steal softly along the carpet of your corridor,and with one hand upon you, before you suspected the slightest thingamiss, I should keep you safely until my master's breakfast in themorning. In this way, I should just the same have avoided all publicity,all disturbance, all opposition; but there would also have been nowarning for M. Fouquet, no consideration for his feelings, none of thosedelicate concessions which are shown by persons who are essentiallycourteous in their natures, whenever the decisive moment may arrive.Are you satisfied with the plan?""It makes me shudder.""I thought you would not like it. It would have been very disagreeableto have made my appearance to-morrow, without any preparation, and tohave asked you to deliver up your sword.""Oh! monsieur, I should have died of shame and anger.""Your gratitude is too eloquently expressed. I have not done enough todeserve it, I assure you.""Most certainly, monsieur, you will never get me to believe that.""Well, then, monseigneur, if you are satisfied with what I have done, andhave somewhat recovered from the shock which I prepared you for as muchas I possibly could, let us allow the few hours that remain to pass awayundisturbed. You are harassed, and should arrange your thoughts; I begyou, therefore, go to sleep, or pretend to go to sleep, either on yourbed, or in your bed; I will sleep in this armchair; and when I fallasleep, my rest is so sound that a cannon would not wake me."Fouquet smiled. "I expect, however," continued the musketeer, "the caseof a door being opened, whether a secret door, or any other; or the caseof any one going out of, or coming into, the room - for anything likethat my ear is as quick and sensitive as the ear of a mouse. Creakingnoises make me start. It arises, I suppose, from a natural antipathy toanything of the kind. Move about as much as you like; walk up and downin any part of the room, write, efface, destroy, burn, - nothing likethat will prevent me from going to sleep or even prevent me from snoring,but do not touch either the key or the handle of the door, for I shouldstart up in a moment, and that would shake my nerves and make me ill.""Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Fouquet, "you are certainly the most wittyand the most courteous man I ever met with; and you will leave me onlyone regret, that of having made your acquaintance so late."D'Artagnan drew a deep sigh, which seemed to say, "Alas! you have perhapsmade it too soon." He then settled himself in his armchair, whileFouquet, half lying on his bed and leaning on his arm, was meditating onhis misadventures. In this way, both of them, leaving the candlesburning, awaited the first dawn of the day; and when Fouquet happened tosigh too loudly, D'Artagnan only snored the louder. Not a single visit,not even from Aramis, disturbed their quietude: not a sound even washeard throughout the whole vast palace. Outside, however, the guards ofhonor on duty, and the patrol of musketeers, paced up and down; and thesound of their feet could be heard on the gravel walks. It seemed to actas an additional soporific for the sleepers, while the murmuring of thewind through the trees, and the unceasing music of the fountains whosewaters tumbled in the basin, still went on uninterruptedly, without beingdisturbed at the slight noises and items of little moment that constitutethe life and death of human nature.