France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
And he climbed gayly into his carriage. The others, a little uneasy at
the turn things had taken, went back to Paris together. Towards ten
o’clock the king repaired to the apartment of his mother, with whom he
had a long and private conversation. After dinner, he got into his
carriage, and went straight to the Louvre. There he received much
company, and took a degree of pleasure in remarking the hesitation of
each, and the curiosity of all. Towards evening he ordered the doors of
the Louvre to be closed, with the exception of one only, which opened
on the quay. He placed on duty at this point two hundred Swiss, who did
not speak a word of French, with orders to admit all who carried
packages, but no others; and by no means to allow any one to go out. At
eleven o’clock precisely, he heard the rolling of a heavy carriage
under the arch, then of another, then of a third; after which the gate
grated upon its hinges to be closed. Soon after, somebody scratched
with his nail at the door of the cabinet. The king opened it himself,
and beheld Colbert, whose first word was this:—“The money is in your
majesty’s cellar.”
The king then descended and went himself to see the barrels of specie,
in gold and silver, which, under the direction of Colbert, four men had
just rolled into a cellar of which the king had given Colbert the key
in the morning. This review completed, Louis returned to his
apartments, followed by Colbert, who had not apparently warmed with one
ray of personal satisfaction.
“Monsieur,” said the king, “what do you wish that I should give you, as
a recompense for this devotedness and probity?”
“Absolutely nothing, sire.”
“How nothing? Not even an opportunity of serving me?”
“If your majesty were not to furnish me with that opportunity, I should
not the less serve you. It is impossible for me not to be the best
servant of the king.”
“You shall be intendant of the finances, M. Colbert.”
“But there is already a superintendent, sire.”
“I know that.”
“Sire, the superintendent of the finances is the most powerful man in
the kingdom.”
“Ah!” cried Louis, coloring, “do you think so?”
“He will crush me in a week, sire. Your majesty gives me a controle for
which strength is indispensable. An intendant under a
superintendent,—that is inferiority.”
“You want support—you do not reckon upon me?”
“I had the honor of telling your majesty that during the lifetime of M.
de Mazarin, M. Fouquet was the second man in the kingdom; now M. de
Mazarin is dead, M. Fouquet is become the first.”
“Monsieur, I agree to what you told me of all things up to to-day; but
to-morrow, please to remember, I shall no longer suffer it.”
“Then I shall be of no use to your majesty?”
“You are already, since you fear to compromise yourself in serving me.”
“I only fear to be placed so that I cannot serve your majesty.”
“What do you wish, then?”
“I wish your majesty to allow me assistance in the labors of the office
of intendant.”
“The post would lose its value.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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