"That answer, sir, would make many a courtier's fortune," said the minister; "nor shall it mar yours, though I understand it. Remember, flattery is never lost at a court! 'Tis the same there as with a woman. If it be too thick, she may wipe some of it away, as she does her rouge; but she will take care not to brush off all!"
To be detected in flattery has something in it so degrading, that the blood rushed up into my cheek with the burning glow of shame. A slight smile curled the minister's lip. "Come, sir," he continued, "I am going forth for half an hour, but I may have some questions to ask you; therefore I will beg you to wait my return. Do not stir from this spot. There, you will find food for the mind," he proceeded, pointing out a small case of books; "in other respects, you shall be taken care of. I need not warn you to discretion. You have proved that you possess that quality, and I do not forget it."
Thus speaking, he left me, and for a few minutes I remained struggling with the flood of turbulent thoughts which such an interview pours upon the mind. This, then, was the great and extraordinary minister, who at that moment held in his hands the fate of half Europe; the powers of whose mind, like Niorder, the tempest-god of the ancient Gauls, raised, guided, and enjoyed the winds and the storms, triumphing in the thunders of continual war, and the whirlwinds of political intrigue.
In a short time two servants brought in a small table of lapis lazuli, on which they proceeded to spread various sorts of rare fruits and wines; putting on also a china cup and a vase, which I supposed to contain coffee--a beverage that I had often heard mentioned by my good preceptor, Father Francis, who had tasted it in the East, but which I had never before met with. All this was done with the most profound silence, and with a gliding ghost-like step, which must certainly have been learned in the prisons of the Inquisition.
At length one of these stealthy attendants desired me, in the name of his lord, to take some refreshment; and then, with a low reverence, quitted the cabinet, as if afraid that I should make him any answer.
I could not help thinking, as they left me, what a system of terror must that be which could drill any two Frenchmen into silence like this!
However, I approached the table, and indulged myself with a cup of most exquisite coffee; after which I examined the bookcase, and glancing my eye over histories and tragedies, and essays and treatises, I fixed at length upon Ovid, from a sort of instinctive feeling that the mind, when it wishes to fly from itself and the too sad realities of human existence, assimilates much more easily with anything imaginative than with anything true.
I was still reading; and, though sometimes falling into long lapses of thought, I was nevertheless highly enjoying the beautiful fictions of the poet, when the door was again opened, and the minister re-appeared. I instantly laid down the book and rose; but, pointing to a chair, he bade me be seated, and taking up my book, turned over the pages for a few moments, while a servant brought him a cup of fresh coffee and a biscuit.
"Are you fond of Ovid?" demanded he, at length; and then, without allowing me time to reply, he added, "He is my favourite author; I read him more than any other book."
The tone which he took was that of easy, common conversation, which two persons, perfectly equal in every respect, might be supposed to hold upon any indifferent subject; and I, of course, answered in the same.