CHAPTER LIV.
MADAME DE BELLIERE'S PLATE AND DIAMONDS.
Hardly had Fouquet dismissed Vanel, than he began to reflect for a fewmoments: "A man never can do too much for the woman he has once loved.Marguerite wishes to be the wife of a procureur-general--and why notconfer this pleasure upon her? And now that the most scrupulous andsensitive conscience will be unable to reproach me with anything, let mythoughts be bestowed on her who has shown so much devotion for me.Madame de Belliere ought to be there by this time," he said, as heturned toward the secret door.
After he had locked himself in, he opened the subterranean passage, andrapidly hastened toward the means of communicating between the house atVincennes and his own residence. He had neglected to apprise his friendof his approach by ringing the bell, perfectly assured that she wouldnever fail to be exact at the rendezvous; as, indeed, was the case, forshe was already waiting. The noise the surintendant made aroused her;she ran to take from under the door the letter that he had thrust there,and which simply said, "Come, marquise; we are waiting supper for you."With her heart filled with happiness Madame de Belliere ran to hercarriage in the Avenue de Vincennes, and in a few minutes she washolding out her hand to Gourville, who was standing at the entrance,where, in order the better to please his master, he had stationedhimself to watch her arrival. She had not observed that Fouquet's blackhorses had arrived at the same time, smoking and covered with foam,having returned to Saint-Mande with Pellisson and the very jeweler towhom Madame de Belliere had sold her plate and her jewels. Pellissonintroduced the goldsmith into the cabinet, which Fouquet had not yetleft. The surintendant thanked him for having been good enough to regardas a simple deposit in his hands the valuable property which he had hadevery right to sell; and he cast his eyes on the total of the account,which amounted to thirteen hundred thousand francs. Then, going for afew moments to his desk, he wrote an order for fourteen hundred thousandfrancs, payable at sight, at his treasury, before twelve o'clock thenext day.
"A hundred thousand francs profit!" cried the goldsmith. "Oh,monseigneur, what generosity!"
"Nay, nay, not so, monsieur," said Fouquet, touching him on theshoulder; "there are certain kindnesses which can never be repaid. Theprofit is about that which you would have made; but the interest of yourmoney still remains to be arranged." And, saying this, he unfastenedfrom his sleeve a diamond button, which the goldsmith himself had oftenvalued at three thousand pistoles. "Take this," he said to thegoldsmith, "in remembrance of me. And farewell; you are an honest man."
"And you, monseigneur," cried the goldsmith, completely overcome, "arethe noblest man that ever lived."
Fouquet let the worthy goldsmith pass out of the room by a secret door,and then went to receive Madame de Belliere, who was already surroundedby all the guests. The marquise was always beautiful, but now herloveliness was more dazzling than ever. "Do you not think, gentlemen,"said Fouquet, "that madame is more than usually beautiful this evening?And do you happen to know why?"
"Because madame is really the most beautiful of all women," said someone present.
"No; but because she is the best. And yet--"
"Yet?" said the marquise, smiling.
"And yet, all the jewels which madame is wearing this evening arenothing but false stones." At this remark the marquise blushed mostpainfully.
"Oh, oh!" exclaimed all the guests, "that can very well be said of onewho has the finest diamonds in Paris."
"Well?" said Fouquet to Pellisson, in a low tone.
"Well, at last I have understood you," returned the latter; "and youhave done excellently well."
"Supper is ready, monseigneur," said Vatel, with majestic air and tone.
The crowd of guests hurried, less slowly than is usually the case withministerial entertainments, toward the banqueting room, where amagnificent spectacle presented itself. Upon the buffets, upon theside-tables, upon the supper-table itself, in the midst of flowers andlight, glittered most dazzlingly the richest and most costly gold andsilver plate that could possibly be seen--relics of those ancientmagnificent productions which the Florentine artists, whom the Medicifamily had patronized, had sculptured, chased, and cast for the purposeof holding flowers, at a time when gold yet existed in France. Thesehidden marvels, which had been buried during the civil wars, had timidlyreappeared during the intervals of that war of good taste called LaFronde; at a time when noblemen fighting against noblemen, killed, butdid not pillage each other. All the plate present had Madame deBelliere's arms engraved upon it. "Look," cried La Fontaine, "here is aP and a B."
But the most remarkable object present was the cover which Fouquet hadassigned to the marquise. Near her was a pyramid of diamonds, sapphires,emeralds, antique cameos, sardonyx stones, carved by the old Greeks ofAsia Minor, with mountings of Mysian gold; curious mosaics of ancientAlexandria, mounted in silver; massive Egyptian bracelets lay heaped upin a large plate of Palissy ware, supported by a tripod of gilt bronzewhich had been sculptured by Benvenuto. The marquise turned pale, as sherecognized what she had never expected to see again. A profound silenceseemed to seize upon every one of the restless and excited guests.Fouquet did not even make a sign in dismissal of the richly liveriedservants who crowded like bees round the huge buffets and other tablesin the room. "Gentlemen," he said, "all this plate which you behold oncebelonged to Madame de Belliere, who having observed one of her friendsin great distress, sent all this gold and silver, together with theheap of jewels now before her, to her goldsmith. This noble conduct of adevoted friend can well be understood by such friends as you. Happyindeed is that man who sees himself loved in such a manner. Let us drinkto the health of Madame de Belliere."
A tremendous burst of applause followed his words, and made poor Madamede Belliere sink back dumb and breathless on her seat. "And then," addedPellisson, who was always affected by a noble action, as he wasinvariably impressed by beauty, "let us also drink to the health of himwho inspired madame's noble conduct; for such a man is worthy of beingworthily loved."
It was now the marquise's turn. She rose, pale and smiling; and as sheheld out her glass with a faltering hand, and her trembling fingerstouched those of Fouquet, her look, full of love, found its reflectionand response in that of her ardent and generous-hearted lover. Begun inthis manner, the supper soon became a fete; no one tried to be witty,for no one failed in being so. La Fontaine forgot his Gorgny wine andallowed Vatel to reconcile him to the wines of the Rhone and those fromthe shores of Spain. The Abbe Fouquet became so kind and good-naturedthat Gourville said to him, "Take care, Monsieur l'Abbe; if you are sotender, you will be eaten."
The hours passed away so joyously, that, contrary to his usual custom,the surintendant did not leave the table before the end of the dessert.He smiled upon his friends, delighted as a man is, whose heart becomesintoxicated before his head--and, for the first time, he had just lookedat the clock. Suddenly, a carriage rolled into the courtyard, and,strange to say, it was heard high above the noise of the mirth whichprevailed. Fouquet listened attentively, and then turned his eyes towardthe antechamber. It seemed as if he could hear a step passing across it,and that this step, instead of pressing the ground, weighed heavily uponhis heart. "M. d'Herblay, bishop of Vannes," the usher announced. AndAramis' grave and thoughtful face appeared upon the threshold of thedoor, between the remains of two garlands, of which the flame of a lamphad just burned the thread that had united them.
The Vicomte de Bragelonne Page 55