Chapter XLIX. Monsieur Colbert's Rough Draft.
Vanel, who entered at this stage of the conversation, was nothing lessfor Aramis and Fouquet than the full stop which completes a phrase.But, for Vanel, Aramis's presence in Fouquet's cabinet had quite anothersignification; and, therefore, at his first step into the room, hepaused as he looked at the delicate yet firm features of the bishop ofVannes, and his look of astonishment soon became one of scrutinizingattention. As for Fouquet, a perfect politician, that is to say,complete master of himself, he had already, by the energy of his ownresolute will, contrived to remove from his face all traces of theemotion which Aramis's revelation had occasioned. He was no longer,therefore, a man overwhelmed by misfortune and reduced to resort toexpedients; he held his head proudly erect, and indicated by a gesturethat Vanel could enter. He was now the first minister of the state, andin his own palace. Aramis knew the superintendent well; the delicacy ofthe feelings of his heart and the exalted nature of his mind no longersurprised him. He confined himself, then, for the moment--intending toresume later an active part in the conversation--to the performance ofthe difficult part of a man who looks on and listens, in order to learnand understand. Vanel was visibly overcome, and advanced into the middleof the cabinet, bowing to everything and everybody. "I am here," hesaid.
"You are punctual, Monsieur Vanel," returned Fouquet.
"In matters of business, monseigneur," replied Vanel, "I look uponexactitude as a virtue."
"No doubt, monsieur."
"I beg your pardon," interrupted Aramis, indicating Vanel with hisfinger, but addressing himself to Fouquet; "this is the gentleman, Ibelieve, who has come about the purchase of your appointment?"
"Yes, I am," replied Vanel, astonished at the extremely haughty tone inwhich Aramis had put the question; "but in what way am I to address you,who do me the honor--"
"Call me monseigneur," replied Aramis, dryly. Vanel bowed.
"Come, gentlemen, a truce to these ceremonies; let us proceed to thematter itself."
"Monseigneur sees," said Vanel, "that I am waiting your pleasure."
"On the contrary, I am waiting," replied Fouquet.
"What for, may I be permitted to ask, monseigneur?"
"I thought that you had perhaps something to say."
"Oh," said Vanel to himself, "he has reflected on the matter and Iam lost." But resuming his courage, he continued, "No, monseigneur,nothing, absolutely nothing more than what I said to you yesterday, andwhich I am again ready to repeat to you now."
"Come, now, tell me frankly, Monsieur Vanel, is not the affair rather aburdensome one for you?"
"Certainly, monseigneur; fourteen hundred thousand francs is animportant sum."
"So important, indeed," said Fouquet, "that I have reflected--"
"You have been reflecting, do you say, monseigneur?" exclaimed Vanel,anxiously.
"Yes; that you might not yet be in a position to purchase."
"Oh, monseigneur!"
"Do not make yourself uneasy on that score, Monsieur Vanel; I shall notblame you for a failure in your word, which evidently may arise frominability on your part."
"Oh, yes, monseigneur, you would blame me, and you would be right indoing so," said Vanel; "for a man must either be very imprudent, or afool, to undertake engagements which he cannot keep; and I, at least,have always regarded a thing agreed on as a thing actually carried out."
Fouquet colored, while Aramis uttered a "Hum!" of impatience.
"You would be wrong to exaggerate such notions as those, monsieur," saidthe superintendent; "for a man's mind is variable, and full of thesevery excusable caprices, which are, however, sometimes estimable enough;and a man may have wished for something yesterday of which he repentsto-day."
Vanel felt a cold sweat trickle down his face. "Monseigneur!" hemuttered.
Aramis, who was delighted to find the superintendent carry on the debatewith such clearness and precision, stood leaning his arm upon the marbletop of a console table and began to play with a small gold knife, with amalachite handle. Fouquet did not hasten to reply; but after a moment'spause, "Come, my dear Monsieur Vanel," he said, "I will explain to youhow I am situated." Vanel began to tremble.
"Yesterday I wished to sell--"
"Monseigneur did more than wish to sell, he actually sold."
"Well, well, that may be so; but to-day I ask you the favor to restoreme my word which I pledged you."
"I received your _word_ as a satisfactory assurance that it would bekept."
"I know that, and that is the reason why I now entreat you; do youunderstand me? I entreat you to restore it to me."
Fouquet suddenly paused. The words "I entreat you," the effect ofwhich he did not immediately perceive, seemed almost to choke him ashe uttered it. Aramis, still playing with his knife, fixed a look uponVanel which seemed as if he wished to penetrate the recesses of hisheart. Vanel simply bowed, as he said, "I am overcome, monseigneur, atthe honor you do me to consult me upon a matter of business which isalready completed; but--"
"Nay, do not say _but_, dear Monsieur Vanel."
"Alas! monseigneur, you see," he said, as he opened a large pocket-book,"I have brought the money with me,--the whole sum, I mean. And here,monseigneur, is the contract of sale which I have just effected ofa property belonging to my wife. The order is authentic in everyparticular, the necessary signatures have been attached to it, and it ismade payable at sight; it is ready money, in fact, and, in one word, thewhole affair is complete."
"My dear Monsieur Vanel, there is not a matter of business in thisworld, however important it may be, which cannot be postponed in orderto oblige a man, who, by that means, might and would be made a devotedfriend."
"Certainly," said Vanel, awkwardly.
"And much more justly acquired would that friend become, MonsieurVanel, since the value of the service he had received would have been soconsiderable. Well, what do you say? what do you decide?"
Vanel preserved a perfect silence. In the meantime, Aramis had continuedhis close observation of the man. Vanel's narrow face, his deeply sunkeneyes, his arched eyebrows, had revealed to the bishop of Vannes the typeof an avaricious and ambitious character. Aramis's method was to opposeone passion by another. He saw that M. Fouquet was defeated--morallysubdued--and so he came to his rescue with fresh weapons in his hands."Excuse me, monseigneur," he said; "you forgot to show M. Vanel thathis own interests are diametrically opposed to this renunciation of thesale."
Vanel looked at the bishop with astonishment; he had hardly expected tofind an auxiliary in him. Fouquet also paused to listen to the bishop.
"Do you not see," continued Aramis, "that M. Vanel, in order to purchaseyour appointment, has been obliged to sell a property belonging to hiswife; well, that is no slight matter; for one cannot displace, as hehas done, fourteen or fifteen hundred thousand francs without someconsiderable loss, and very serious inconvenience."
"Perfectly true," said Vanel, whose secret Aramis had, with keen-sightedgaze, wrung from the bottom of his heart.
"Inconveniences such as these are matters of great expense andcalculation, and whenever a man has money matters to deal with, theexpenses are generally the very first thing thought of."
"Yes, yes," said Fouquet, who began to understand Aramis's meaning.
Vanel remained perfectly silent; he, too, had understood him. Aramisobserved his coldness of manner and his silence. "Very good," he said tohimself, "you are waiting, I see, until you know the amount; but donot fear, I shall send you such a flight of crowns that you cannot butcapitulate on the spot."
"We must offer M. Vanel a hundred thousand crowns at once," saidFouquet, carried away by his generous feelings.
The sum was a good one. A prince, even, would have been satisfied withsuch a bonus. A hundred thousand crowns at that period was the dowry ofa king's daughter. Vanel, however, did not move.
"He is a perfect rascal!" thought the bishop, "well, we must offer thefive hundred thousand francs a
t once," and he made a sign to Fouquetaccordingly.
"You seem to have spent more than that, dear Monsieur Vanel," said thesuperintendent. "The price of ready money is enormous. You must havemade a great sacrifice in selling your wife's property. Well, what can Ihave been thinking of? I ought to have offered to sign you an order forfive hundred thousand francs; and even in that case I shall feel that Iam greatly indebted to you."
There was not a gleam of delight or desire on Vanel's face, whichremained perfectly impassible; not a muscle of it changed in theslightest degree. Aramis cast a look almost of despair at Fouquet, andthen, going straight up to Vanel and taking hold of him by the coat,in a familiar manner, he said, "Monsieur Vanel, it is neither theinconvenience, nor the displacement of your money, nor the sale of yourwife's property even, that you are thinking of at this moment; itis something more important still. I can well understand it; so payparticular attention to what I am going to say."
"Yes, monseigneur," Vanel replied, beginning to tremble in every limb,as the prelate's eyes seemed almost ready to devour him.
"I offer you, therefore, in the superintendent's name, not three hundredthousand livres, nor five hundred thousand, but a million. A million--doyou understand me?" he added, as he shook him nervously.
"A million!" repeated Vanel, as pale as death.
"A million; in other words, at the present rate of interest, an incomeof seventy thousand francs."
"Come, monsieur," said Fouquet, "you can hardly refuse that. Answer--doyou accept?"
"Impossible," murmured Vanel.
Aramis bit his lips, and something like a cloud seemed to pass over hisface. The thunder behind this cloud could easily be imagined. He stillkept his hold on Vanel. "You have purchased the appointment for fifteenhundred thousand francs, I think. Well, you will receive these fifteenhundred thousand francs back again; by paying M. Fouquet a visit, andshaking hands with him on the bargain, you will have become a gainerof a million and a half. You get honor and profit at the same time,Monsieur Vanel."
"I cannot do it," said Vanel, hoarsely.
"Very well," replied Aramis, who had grasped Vanel so tightly by thecoat that, when he let go his hold, Vanel staggered back a few paces,"very well; one can now see clearly enough your object in coming here."
"Yes," said Fouquet, "one can easily see that."
"But--" said Vanel, attempting to stand erect before the weakness ofthese two men of honor.
"Does the fellow presume to speak?" said Aramis, with the tone of anemperor.
"Fellow!" repeated Vanel.
"The scoundrel, I meant to say," added Aramis, who had now resumed hisusual self-possession. "Come, monsieur, produce your deed of sale,--youhave it about you, I suppose, in one of your pockets, already prepared,as an assassin holds his pistol or his dagger concealed under his cloak."
Vanel began to mutter something.
"Enough!" cried Fouquet. "Where is this deed?"
Vanel tremblingly searched in his pockets, and as he drew out hispocket-book, a paper fell out of it, while Vanel offered the other toFouquet. Aramis pounced upon the paper which had fallen out, as soon ashe recognized the handwriting. "I beg your pardon," said Vanel, "that isa rough draft of the deed."
"I see that very clearly," retorted Aramis, with a smile more cuttingthan a lash of a whip; "and what I admire most is, that this draft is inM. Colbert's handwriting. Look, monseigneur, look."
And he handed the draft to Fouquet, who recognized the truth of thefact; for, covered with erasures, with inserted words, the marginsfilled with additions, this deed--a living proof of Colbert's plot--hadjust revealed everything to its unhappy victim. "Well!" murmuredFouquet.
Vanel, completely humiliated, seemed as if he were looking for some holewherein to hide himself.
"Well!" said Aramis, "if your name were not Fouquet, and if your enemy'sname were not Colbert--if you had not this mean thief before you, Ishould say to you, 'Repudiate it;' such a proof as this absolves youfrom your word; but these fellows would think you were afraid; theywould fear you less than they do; therefore sign the deed at once." Andhe held out a pen towards him.
Fouquet pressed Aramis's hand; but, instead of the deed which Vanelhanded to him, he took the rough draft of it.
"No, not that paper," said Aramis, hastily; "this is the one. The otheris too precious a document for you to part with."
"No, no!" replied Fouquet; "I will sign under M. Colbert's ownhandwriting even; and I write, 'The handwriting is approved of.'" Hethen signed, and said, "Here it is, Monsieur Vanel." And the latterseized the paper, dashed down the money, and was about to make hisescape.
"One moment," said Aramis. "Are you quite sure the exact amount isthere? It ought to be counted over, Monsieur Vanel; particularly sinceM. Colbert makes presents of money to ladies, I see. Ah, that worthy M.Colbert is not so generous as M. Fouquet." And Aramis, spelling everyword, every letter of the order to pay, distilled his wrath and hiscontempt, drop by drop, upon the miserable wretch, who had to submitto this torture for a quarter of an hour. He was then dismissed, not inwords, but by a gesture, as one dismisses or discharges a beggar or amenial.
As soon as Vanel had gone, the minister and the prelate, their eyesfixed on each other, remained silent for a few moments.
"Well," said Aramis, the first to break the silence; "to what can thatman be compared, who, at the very moment he is on the point of enteringinto a conflict with an enemy armed from head to foot, panting for hislife, presents himself for the contest utterly defenseless, throws downhis arms, and smiles and kisses his hands to his adversary in the mostgracious manner? Good faith, M. Fouquet, is a weapon which scoundrelsfrequently make use of against men of honor, and it answers theirpurpose. Men of honor, ought, in their turn, also, to make use ofdishonest means against such scoundrels. You would soon see how strongthey would become, without ceasing to be men of honor."
"What they did would be termed the acts of a scoundrel," repliedFouquet.
"Far from that; it would be merely coquetting or playing with the truth.At all events, since you have finished with this Vanel; since you havedeprived yourself of the happiness of confounding him by repudiatingyour word; and since you have given up, for the purpose of being usedagainst yourself, the only weapon which can ruin you--"
"My dear friend," said Fouquet, mournfully, "you are like the teacher ofphilosophy whom La Fontaine was telling us about the other day; he sawa child drowning, and began to read him a lecture divided into threeheads."
Aramis smiled as he said, "Philosophy--yes; teacher--yes; a drowningchild--yes; but a child can be saved--you shall see. But first of alllet us talk about business. Did you not some time ago," he continued, asFouquet looked at him with a bewildered air, "speak to me about an ideayou had of giving a _fete_ at Vaux?"
"Oh!" said Fouquet, "that was when affairs were flourishing."
"A _fete_, I believe, to which the king invited himself of his ownaccord?"
"No, no, my dear prelate; a _fete_ to which M. Colbert advised the kingto invite himself."
"Ah--exactly; as it would be a _fete_ of so costly a character that youwould be ruined in giving it."
"Precisely so. In happier days, as I said just now, I had a kind ofpride in showing my enemies how inexhaustible my resources were; I feltit a point of honor to strike them with amazement, by creating millionsunder circumstances where they imagined nothing but bankruptcies andfailures would follow. But, at present, I am arranging my accounts withthe state, with the king, with myself; and I must now become a mean,stingy man; I shall be able to prove to the world that I can act oroperate with my deniers as I used to do with my bags of pistoles, andfrom to-morrow my equipages shall be sold, my mansions mortgaged, myexpenses curtailed."
"From to-morrow," interrupted Aramis, quietly, "you will occupyyourself, without the slightest delay, with your _fete_ at Vaux, whichmust hereafter be spoken of as one of the most magnificent productionsof your most prosperous days."
"Are you mad, C
hevalier d'Herblay?"
"I! do you think so?"
"What do you mean, then? Do you not know that a _fete_ at Vaux, one ofthe very simplest possible character, would cost four or five millions?"
"I do not speak of a _fete_ of the very simplest possible character, mydear superintendent."
"But, since the _fete_ is to be given to the king," replied Fouquet, whomisunderstood Aramis's idea, "it cannot be simple."
"Just so: it ought to be on a scale of the most unbounded magnificence."
"In that case, I shall have to spend ten or twelve millions."
"You shall spend twenty, if you require it," said Aramis, in a perfectlycalm voice.
"Where shall I get them?" exclaimed Fouquet.
"That is my affair, monsieur le surintendant; and do not be uneasy for amoment about it. The money shall be placed at once at your disposal, themoment you have arranged the plans of your _fete_."
"Chevalier! chevalier!" said Fouquet, giddy with amazement, "whither areyou hurrying me?"
"Across the gulf into which you were about to fall," replied the bishopof Vannes. "Take hold of my cloak, and throw fear aside."
"Why did you not tell me that sooner, Aramis? There was a day when, withone million only, you could have saved me; whilst to-day--"
"Whilst to-day I can give you twenty," said the prelate. "Such is thecase, however--the reason is very simple. On the day you speak of, I hadnot the million which you had need of at my disposal, whilst now I caneasily procure the twenty millions we require."
"May Heaven hear you, and save me!"
Aramis resumed his usual smile, the expression of which was so singular."Heaven never fails to hear me," he said.
"I abandon myself to you unreservedly," Fouquet murmured.
"No, no; I do not understand it in that manner. I am unreservedlydevoted to you. Therefore, as you have the clearest, the most delicate,and the most ingenious mind of the two, you shall have entire controlover the _fete_, even to the very smallest details. Only--"
"Only?" said Fouquet, as a man accustomed to understand and appreciatethe value of a parenthesis.
"Well, then, leaving the entire invention of the details to you, I shallreserve to myself a general superintendence over the execution."
"In what way?"
"I mean, that you will make of me, on that day, a major-domo, a sort ofinspector-general, or factotum--something between a captain of the guardand manager or steward. I will look after the people, and will keep thekeys of the doors. You will give your orders, of course: but will givethem to no one but me. They will pass through my lips, to reach thosefor whom they are intended--you understand?"
"No, I am very far from understanding."
"But you agree?"
"Of course, of course, my friend."
"That is all I care about, then. Thanks; and now go and prepare yourlist of invitations."
"Whom shall I invite?"
"Everybody you know."