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Updated: June 16, 2025
He will throw out at the doors all the cries and notes possible." "The case is provided for, Monsieur d'Artagnan; a carriage with a trellis will obviate both the difficulties you point out." "A carriage with an iron trellis!" cried D'Artagnan; "but a carriage with an iron trellis is not made in half an hour, and your majesty commands me to go immediately to M. Fouquet's lodgings."
Dear Porthos, how delighted I shall be to see him again, and to have some conversation with him!" said the Gascon. And, regulating his pace according to that of the soldier, he promised himself to arrive a quarter of an hour after him at M. Fouquet's. D'Artagnan had, according to his usual style, calculated that every hour is worth sixty minutes, and every minute worth sixty seconds.
But what is Fouquet's object? To reign in my place and stead? Impossible. Yet who knows!" thought the king, relapsing into gloom again. "Perhaps my brother, the Duc d'Orleans, is doing that which my uncle wished to do during the whole of his life against my father. But the queen? My mother, too? And La Valliere? Oh! La Valliere, she will have been abandoned to Madame. Dear, dear girl!
"I? I understand that your majesty sends me to Belle-Ile-en-Mer, that is all." "To learn?" "To learn how M. Fouquet's works are going on; that is all." "Very well: I admit you may be taken." "And I do not admit it," replied the Gascon, boldly. "I admit you may be killed," continued the king. "That is not probable, sire."
Colbert's hatred, says he, was the immediate cause of Fouquet's fall; but even if this hatred hastened the catastrophe, are we to suppose that it pursued the delinquent beyond the sentence, through the long years of captivity, and, renewing its energy, infected the minds of the king and his councillors? If that were so, how shall we explain the respect shown by Louvois?
Fouquet ordered his best horses, while Aramis paused at the foot of the staircase which led to Porthos's apartment. He reflected profoundly and for some time, while Fouquet's carriage left the courtyard at full gallop. "Shall I go alone?" said Aramis to himself, "or warn the prince? Oh! fury! Warn the prince, and then do what? Take him with me?
M. Fouquet's friends had transported thither, some their actors and their dresses, others their troops of sculptors and artists; not forgetting others with their ready-mended pens, floods of impromptus were contemplated.
The brigade-major's wife was awaiting him in Paris, and I dined with them at the Ritz and took them to lunch next day at Henry's, where the frogs' legs were delicious and the chicken a recompense for that night-mare of a train journey. Viel's was another restaurant which retained a proper touch of the Paris before the war perfect cooking, courtly waiting, and prices not too high. I have pleasant recollections also of Fouquet's in the Champs Elysées, and of an almost divine meal at the Tour d'Argent, on the other side of the river, where Frederic of the Ibsen whiskers used once to reign: the delicacy of the soufflée of turbot! the succulent tenderness of the caneton
D'Artagnan was visibly put out by this reply; but he was not the man to allow himself to be subdued by a trifle, and resumed: "Monsieur," said he, "your reply is just. But you are ignorant that Belle-Isle is a fief of M. Fouquet's, and that former monarchs gave the right to the seigneurs of Belle-Isle to arm their people." The major made a movement. "Oh! do not interrupt me," continued D'Artagnan.
Once only, from the time of Fouquet's trial, the poet demanded a favor: Louis XIV., having misgivings about the propriety of the Contes of La Fontaine, had not yet given the assent required for his election to the French Academy, when he set out for the campaign in Luxemburg. La Fontaine addressed to him a ballad:
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