“Well!” said the Comte de Charost, “the execution must not take place, then; that is all.” “Impossible,” said Gourville, “unless we could corrupt the jailers.” “Or the governor,” said Fouquet. “This night the prisoners might be allowed to escape.” “Which of you will take charge of the transaction?” “I,” said the abbe, “will carry the money.” “And I,” said Pelisson, “will be the bearer of the words.” “Words and money,” said Fouquet, “five hundred thousand livres to the governor of the conciergerie that is sufficient; nevertheless, it shall be a million, if necessary.” “A million!” cried the abbe; “why, for less than half, I would have half Paris sacked.” “There must be no disorder,” said Pelisson. “The governor being gained, the two prisoners escape; once clear of the fangs of the law, they will call together the enemies of Colbert, and prove to the king that his young justice, like all other monstrosities, is not infallible.” “Go to Paris, then, Pelisson,” said Fouquet, “and bring hither the two victims; to-morrow we shall see.” Gourville gave Pelisson the five hundred thousand livres. “Take care the wind does not carry you away,” said the abbe; “what a responsibility. Peste! Let me help you a little.” “Silence!” said Fouquet, “somebody is coming. Ah! the fireworks are producing a magical effect.” At this moment a shower of sparks fell rustling among the branches of the neighboring trees. Pelisson and Gourville went out together by the door of the gallery; Fouquet descended to the garden with the five last plotters. Chapter LVIII. Epicureans.