“My dear prelate,” said Fouquet, laughing, “my secrets are of too profane a character to confide them to a bishop, however great a worldling he may be.” “Bah! in confession.” “Oh! I should blush too much if you were my confessor.” And Fouquet began to sigh. Aramis again looked at him without further betrayal of his thoughts than a placid smile. “Well,” he said, “discretion is a great virtue.” “Silence,” said Fouquet; “yonder venomous reptile has recognized us, and is crawling this way.” “Colbert?” “Yes; leave me, D’Herblay; I do not wish that fellow to see you with me, or he will take an aversion to _you_.” Aramis pressed his hand, saying, “What need have I of his friendship, while you are here?” “Yes, but I may not always be here,” replied Fouquet, dejectedly. “On that day, then, if that day should ever dawn,” said Aramis, tranquilly, “we will think over a means of dispensing with the friendship, or of braving the dislike of M. Colbert. But tell me, my dear Fouquet, instead of conversing with this reptile, as you did him the honor of styling him, a conversation the need for which I do not perceive, why do you not pay a visit, if not to the king, at least to Madame?” “To Madame,” said the superintendent, his mind occupied by his _souvenirs_. “Yes, certainly, to Madame.” “You remember,” continued Aramis, “that we have been told that Madame stands high in favor during the last two or three days. It enters into your policy, and forms part of our plans, that you should assiduously devote yourself to his majesty’s friends. It is a means of counteracting the growing influence of M. Colbert. Present yourself, therefore, as soon as possible to Madame, and, for our sakes, treat this ally with consideration.” “But,” said Fouquet, “are you quite sure that it is upon her that the king has his eyes fixed at the present moment?” “If the needle has turned, it must be since the morning. You know I have my police.” “Very well! I will go there at once, and, at all events, I shall have a means of introduction in the shape of a magnificent pair of antique cameos set with diamonds.” “I have seen them, and nothing could be more costly and regal.” At this moment they were interrupted by a servant followed by a courier. “For you, monseigneur,” said the courier aloud, presenting a letter to Fouquet.