"Upon my honor, none," replied La Valliere, firmly.
"Very well, that is quite sufficient; permit me, then, to renew the a.s.surance of my utmost esteem and respect," said Fouquet. Then, bowing, he left the room to seek Aramis, who was waiting for him in his own apartment, and leaving La Valliere to ask herself whether the superintendent had not lost his senses.
"Well!" inquired Aramis, who was impatiently waiting Fouquet"s return, "are you satisfied with the favorite?"
"Enchanted," replied Fouquet; "she is a woman full of intelligence and fine feeling."
"She did not get angry, then?"
"Far from that-she did not even seem to understand."
"To understand what?"
"To understand that I had written to her."
"She must, however, have understood you sufficiently to give the letter back to you, for I presume she returned it."
"Not at all."
"At least, you satisfied yourself that she had burnt it."
"My dear Monsieur d"Herblay, I have been playing at cross-purposes for more than an hour, and, however amusing it may be, I begin to have had enough of this game. So understand me thoroughly: the girl pretended not to understand what I was saying to her; she denied having received any letter; therefore, having positively denied its receipt, she was unable either to return or burn it."
"Oh, oh!" said Aramis, with uneasiness, "what is this you tell me?"
"I say that she swore most positively she had not received any letter."
"That is too much. And did you not insist?"
"On the contrary, I did insist, almost impertinently even."
"And she persisted in her denial?"
"Unhesitatingly."
"And did she not contradict herself?"
"Not once."
"But, in that case, then, you have left our letter in her hands?"
"How could I do otherwise?"
"Oh! it was a great mistake."
"What the deuce would you have done in my place?"
"One could not force her, certainly, but it is very embarra.s.sing; such a letter ought not to remain in existence against us."
"Oh! the young girl"s disposition is generosity itself; I looked at her eyes, and I can read eyes well."
"You think she can be relied upon?"
"From my heart I do."
"Well, I think we are mistaken."
"In what way?"
"I think that, in point of fact, as she herself told you, she did not receive the letter."
"What! do you suppose-"
"I suppose that, from some motive, of which we know nothing, your man did not deliver the letter to her."
Fouquet rang the bell. A servant appeared. "Send Toby here," he said. A moment afterwards a man made his appearance, with an anxious, restless look, shrewd expression of the mouth, with short arms, and his back somewhat bent. Aramis fixed a penetrating look upon him.
"Will you allow me to interrogate him myself?" inquired Aramis.
"Do so," said Fouquet.
Aramis was about to say something to the lackey, when he paused. "No," he said; "he would see that we attach too much importance to his answer; therefore question him yourself; I will pretend to be writing." Aramis accordingly placed himself at a table, his back turned towards the old attendant, whose every gesture and look he watched in a looking-gla.s.s opposite to him.
"Come here, Toby," said Fouquet to the valet, who approached with a tolerably firm step. "How did you execute my commission?" inquired Fouquet.
"In the usual way, monseigneur," replied the man.
"But how, tell me?"
"I succeeded in penetrating as far as Mademoiselle de la Valliere"s apartment; but she was at ma.s.s, and so I placed the note on her toilette-table. Is not that what you told me to do?"
"Precisely; and is that all?"
"Absolutely all, monseigneur."
"No one was there?"
"No one."
"Did you conceal yourself as I told you?"
"Yes."
"And she returned?"
"Ten minutes afterwards."
"And no one could have taken the letter?"
"No one; for no one had entered the room."
"From the outside, but from the interior?"
"From the place where I was secreted, I could see to the very end of the room."
"Now listen to me," said Fouquet, looking fixedly at the lackey; "if this letter did not reach its proper destination, confess it; for, if a mistake has been made, your head shall be the forfeit."
Toby started, but immediately recovered himself. "Monseigneur," he said, "I placed the letter on the very place I told you: and I ask only half an hour to prove to you that the letter is in Mademoiselle de la Valliere"s hand, or to bring you back the letter itself."
Aramis looked at the valet scrutinizingly. Fouquet was ready in placing confidence in people, and for twenty years this man had served him faithfully. "Go," he said; "but bring me the proof you speak of." The lackey quitted the room.
"Well, what do you think of it?" inquired Fouquet of Aramis.
"I think that you must, by some means or another, a.s.sure yourself of the truth, either that the letter has, or has not, reached La Valliere; that, in the first case, La Valliere must return it to you, or satisfy you by burning it in your presence; that, in the second, you must have the letter back again, even were it to cost you a million. Come, is not that your opinion?"
"Yes; but still, my dear bishop, I believe you are exaggerating the importance of the affair."
"Blind, how blind you are!" murmured Aramis.
"La Valliere," returned Fouquet, "whom we a.s.sume to be a schemer of the first ability, is simply nothing more than a coquette, who hopes that I shall pay my court to her, because I have already done so, and who, now that she has received a confirmation of the king"s regard, hopes to keep me in leading strings with the letter. It is natural enough."
Aramis shook his head.
"Is not that your opinion?" said Fouquet.
"She is not a coquette," he replied.
"Allow me to tell you-"
"Oh! I am well enough acquainted with women who are coquettes," said Aramis.
"My dear friend!"
"It is a long time ago since I finished my education, you mean. But women are the same, throughout the centuries."
"True; but men change, and you at the present day are far more suspicious than you formerly were." And then, beginning to laugh, he added, "Come, if La Valliere is willing to love me only to the extent of a third, and the king two-thirds, do you think the condition acceptable?"
Aramis rose impatiently. "La Valliere," he said, "has never loved, and never will love, any one but the king."
"At all events," said Fouquet, "what would you do?"
"Ask me rather what I would have done?"
"Well! what would you have done?"
"In the first place, I should not have allowed that man to depart."
"Toby?"
"Yes; Toby is a traitor. Nay, I am sure of it, and I would not have let him go until he had told me the truth."
"There is still time. I will recall him, and do you question him in your turn."
"Agreed."
"But I a.s.sure you it is useless. He has been with me for twenty years, and has never made the slightest mistake, and yet," added Fouquet, laughing, "it would have been easy enough for him to have done so."
"Still, call him back. This morning I fancy I saw that face, in earnest conversation with one of M. Colbert"s men."
"Where was that?"
"Opposite the stables."
"Bah! all my people are at daggers drawn with that fellow."
"I saw him, I tell you, and his face, which should have been unknown to me when he entered just now, struck me as disagreeably familiar."
"Why did you not say something, then, while he was here?"
"Because it is only at this very minute that my memory is clear upon the subject."
"Really," said Fouquet, "you alarm me." And he again rang the bell.
"Provided that it is not already too late," said Aramis.
Fouquet once more rang impatiently. The valet usually in attendance appeared. "Toby!" said Fouquet, "send Toby." The valet again shut the door.
"You leave me at perfect liberty, I suppose?"
"Entirely so."
"I may employ all means, then, to ascertain the truth."
"All."
"Intimidation, even?"
"I const.i.tute you public prosecutor in my place."
They waited ten minutes longer, but uselessly, and Fouquet, thoroughly out of patience, again rang loudly.
"Toby!" he exclaimed.
"Monseigneur," said the valet, "they are looking for him."
"He cannot be far distant, I have not given him any commission to execute."
"I will go and see, monseigneur," replied the valet, as he closed the door. Aramis, during the interview, walked impatiently, but without a syllable, up and down the cabinet. They waited a further ten minutes. Fouquet rang in a manner to alarm the very dead. The valet again presented himself, trembling in a way to induce a belief that he was the bearer of bad news.