“Not immediately, monseigneur, for that would give rise to too much suspicion and astonishment.”
“M. de Richelieu, the first minister of my grandmother, Marie de Medici, was simply bishop of Lucon, as you are bishop of Vannes.”
“I perceive that your royal highness has studied my notes to great advantage; your amazing perspicacity overpowers me with delight.”
“I am perfectly aware that M. de Richelieu, by means of the queen’s protection, soon became cardinal.”
“It would be better,” said Aramis, bowing, “that I should not be appointed first minister until your royal highness has procured my nomination as cardinal.”
“You shall be nominated before two months are past, Monsieur d’Herblay. But that is a matter of very trifling moment; you would not offend me if you were to ask more than that, and you would cause me serious regret if you were to limit yourself to that.”
“In that case, I have something still further to hope for, monseigneur.”
“Speak! speak!”
“M. Fouquet will not keep long at the head of affairs, he will soon get old. He is fond of pleasure, consistently, I mean, with all his labors, thanks to the youthfulness he still retains; but this protracted youth will disappear at the approach of the first serious annoyance, or at the first illness he may experience. We will spare him the annoyance, because he is an agreeable and noble-hearted man; but we cannot save him from ill-health. So it is determined. When you shall have paid all M. Fouquet’s debts, and restored the finances to a sound condition, M. Fouquet will be able to remain the sovereign ruler in his little court of poets and painters,—we shall have made him rich. When that has been done, and I have become your royal highness’s prime minister, I shall be able to think of my own interests and yours.”
The young man looked at his interrogator.