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Let us drink to the health of Madame de Belliere." A tremendous burst of applause followed his words, and made poor Madame de Belliere sink back dumb and breathless in her seat.
"Yes, do so," said Madame Fouquet to her husband. "Do so," said Madame de Belliere. "Do it! do it!" cried all his friends. "I will do so," replied Fouquet. "This very evening?" "In an hour?" "Instantly." "With seven hundred thousand livres you can lay the foundation of another fortune," said the Abbe Fouquet. "What is there to prevent our arming corsairs at Belle-Isle?"
Madame de Belliere had, in fact, left Fouquet about an hour previously, after having passed two days with him; and apprehensive lest his remembrance of her might be effaced for too long a period from the heart she regretted, she dispatched a courier to him as the bearer of this important communication. Fouquet kissed the letter, and rewarded the bearer with a handful of gold.
Madame de Belliere had more strength, and was well paid for it; she received Fouquet's last kiss. Pelisson easily explained this precipitate departure by saying that an order from the king had summoned the minister to Nantes. As Gourville had seen, the king's musketeers were mounting and following their captain.
It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuous but loving woman, defending yourself with claws and teeth, shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; in other respects, as impenetrable as that of Danae, notwithstanding Danae's tower was made of brass." "You are witty, Marguerite," said Madame de Belliere, angrily. "You always flatter me, Elise.
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 adjoining salon, after having recommended her to the most reasonable of his guests. And then, taking Aramis by the arm, he led him towards his cabinet.
"Monsieur de Belliere," said he to one of them, "do me the favor to take the reins from the hands of this worthy man, mount upon the box and drive to the door of the private stair, and wait for me there; it is an affair of importance on the service of the king."
Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame de Belliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he really love her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely to be fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel?
"Will it be necessary to inform Madame de Belliere of it?" said Pelisson. "No; that will be useless; I will do that. So, away with you, my dear friend." Pelisson set off, not quite clear as to his friend's meaning or intention, but confident, like every true friend, in the judgment of the man he was blindly obeying.
When I leave any one who weeps at my abandonment, I feel induced still to love him; but when others forsake me and laugh at their infidelity, I love distractedly." Madame de Belliere could not restrain an involuntary movement. "She is jealous," said Marguerite to herself. "Then," continued the marquise, "you are quite enamored of the Duke of Buckingham I mean of M. Fouquet?"
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