“Oh! no, no!” cried the superintendent, once again; “you are all deceived, and deceive me in my turn; Lyodot came to see me only the day before yesterday; only three days ago I received a present of some Syracuse wine from poor D’Eymeris.”
“What does that prove?” replied Gourville, “except that the chamber of justice has been secretly assembled, has deliberated in the absence of the accused, and that the whole proceeding was complete when they were arrested.”
“What! are they, then, arrested?”
“No doubt they are.”
“But where, when, and how have they been arrested?”
“Lyodot, yesterday at daybreak; D’Eymeris, the day before yesterday, in the evening, as he was returning from the house of his mistress; their disappearances had disturbed nobody; but at length M. Colbert all at once raised the mask, and caused the affair to be published; it is being cried by sound of trumpet, at this moment in Paris, and, in truth, monseigneur, there is scarcely anybody but yourself ignorant of the event.”
Fouquet began to walk about in his chamber with an uneasiness that became more and more serious.
“What do you decide upon, monseigneur?” said Gourville.
“If it were really as easy as you say, I would go to the king,” cried Fouquet. “But as I go to the Louvre, I will pass by the Hotel de Ville. We shall see if the sentence is signed.”
“Incredulity! thou art the pest of all great minds,” said Gourville, shrugging his shoulders.