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Updated: June 3, 2025
Vaguely, in his remote little provincial cure, he had heard of the prowess and daring of the Scarlet Pimpernel and liked to think that Juliette owed her safety to him. "The good God will reward him and those whom he cares for," added Abbe Foucquet with that earnest belief in divine interference which seemed so strangely pathetic under these present circumstances.
The Gobelins wove seventy-two sets after this beautiful model which had made Lebrun's début as an artist. Foucquet had given him a more pretentious work; it was to complete a suite, the History of Constantine, after Raphael. Rubens had given a fresh flush of popularity to this subject, which again became the mode. The History of Meleager was begun at Vaux and finished at the Gobelins.
The Abbe Foucquet was sitting in the remote and darkest corner of the room, quietly telling his beads. His serene philosophy and gentle placidity could in no way be disturbed by the opening of shutting of a door, or by the bearer of good or evil tidings.
It was especially common in the case of the great antiphoners and other huge service-books which stood on the lecterns in Italian churches. Occasionally books so mutilated have been reconstituted. A leading example is that of a Josephus, illuminated in part by the great Tours artist Jean Foucquet. This the late King Edward VII. and Mr. H. Y. Thompson were able to combine in restoring.
Louis, even before leaving for Paris, had begun to ask whence came the money that purchased this wide fertile estate stretching to the vision's limit, the money that built the château of regal splendour, the money that paid for the prodigal pleasures of that day of delights? Foucquet thought to have gained the confidence and admiration of the king.
Well! her mother's jewels and quite a good deal of gold were discovered by one of our most able spies to be under the care of a certain Abbe Foucquet, a calotin from Boulogne devoted to the family, so it seems." "Yes?" queried Chauvelin indifferently. "Our men seized the jewels and gold, that is all. We don't know yet what we mean to do with the priest.
She knew nothing, of course, of the Abbe Foucquet, but the tender little picture of the devoted old man, painted by Juliette's words, had appealed strongly to her sympathetic heart.
The great superintendent conceived the idea of pleasing the young king, Louis XIV, by inviting the court for a wondrous fête in its lovely enclosure. Foucquet was a man of the world, and of the court, knew how to please man's lighter side, and how to use social position for his own ends.
A few quick orders to the sergeant of the guard, and l'Abbe Foucquet, weak, helpless and gentle, became the relentless jailer who would guard Marguerite more securely than a whole regiment of loyal soldiers could have done. Then, having despatched a messenger to the Committee of Public Safety, Chauvelin laid himself down to rest. Fate had not deceived him.
"A fancy, friend Hebert, and I mean to have it." "But who is to ring it, Citizen?" "Morbleu! haven't you one calotin left in Boulogne whom you can press into doing this service?" "Aye! calotins enough! there's the Abbe Foucquet in this very building... in No. 6 cell..." "Sacre tonnerre!" ejaculated Chauvelin exultingly, "the very man! I know his dossier well!
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