“I will remain,” said Fouquet. “And, besides, does not everything serve me?”
“You have Belle-Isle,” cried the Abbe Fouquet.
“And I am naturally going there, when going to Nantes,” replied the superintendent. “Patience, then, patience!”
“Before arriving at Nantes, what a distance!” said Madame Fouquet.
“Yes, I know that well,” replied Fouquet. “But what is to be done there? The king summons me to the States. I know well it is for the purpose of ruining me; but to refuse to go would be to evince uneasiness.”
“Well, I have discovered the means of reconciling everything,” cried Pelisson. “You are going to set out for Nantes.”
Fouquet looked at him with an air of surprise.
“But with friends; but in your own carriage as far as Orleans; in your own barge as far as Nantes; always ready to defend yourself, if you are attacked; to escape, if you are threatened. In fact, you will carry your money against all chances; and, whilst flying, you will only have obeyed the king; then, reaching the sea, when you like, you will embark for Belle-Isle, and from Belle-Isle you will shoot out wherever it may please you, like the eagle that leaps into space when it has been driven from its eyrie.”
A general assent followed Pelisson’s words. “Yes, do so,” said Madame Fouquet to her husband.
“Do so,” said Madame de Belliere.