At the very time M. de Baisemeaux was showing Aramis theprisoners in the Bastile, a carriage drew up at Madame deBelliere's door, and, at that still early hour, a youngwoman alighted, her head muffled in a silk hood. When theservants announced Madame Vanel to Madame de Belliere, thelatter was engaged, or rather was absorbed, in reading, aletter, which she hurriedly concealed. She had hardlyfinished her morning toilette, her maid being still in thenext room. At the name - -at the footsteps of MargueriteVanel - Madame de Belliere ran to meet her. She fancied shecould detect in her friend's eyes a brightness which wasneither that of health nor of pleasure. Marguerite embracedher, pressed her hands, and hardly allowed her time tospeak. "Dearest," she said, "have you forgotten me? Have youquite given yourself up to the pleasures of the court?"

"I have not even seen the marriage fetes."

"What are you doing with yourself, then?"

"I am getting ready to leave for Belliere."

"For Belliere?"

"Yes."

"You are becoming rustic in your tastes, then; I delight tosee you so disposed. But you are pale."

"No, I am perfectly well."

"So much the better; I was becoming uneasy about you. You donot know what I have been told."

"People say so many things."

"Yes, but this is very singular."

"How well you know how to excite curiosity, Marguerite."

"Well, I was afraid of vexing you."

"Never; you have yourself always admired me for my evennessof temper."

"Well, then, it is said that - no, I shall never be able totell you."

"Do not let us talk about it, then," said Madame deBelliere, who detected the ill-nature that was concealed byall these prefaces, yet felt the most anxious curiosity onthe subject.

"Well, then, my dear marquise, it is said that, for sometime past, you no longer continue to regret Monsieur deBelliere as you used to."

"It is an ill-natured report, Marguerite. I do regret andshall always regret, my husband; but it is now two yearssince he died. I am only twenty-eight years old, and mygrief at his loss ought not always to control every actionand thought of my life. You, Marguerite, who are the modelof a wife, would not believe me if I were to say so."

"Why not? Your heart is so soft and yielding." she said,spitefully.

"Yours is so too, Marguerite, and yet I did not perceivethat you allowed yourself to be overcome by grief when yourheart was wounded." These words were in direct allusion toMarguerite's rupture with the superintendent, and were alsoa veiled but direct reproach made against her friend'sheart.

As if she only awaited this signal to discharge her shaft,Marguerite exclaimed, "Well, Elise, it is said you are inlove." And she looked fixedly at Madame de Belliere, whoblushed against her will.

"Women never escape slander," replied the marquise, after amoment's pause.

"No one slanders you, Elise."

"What! - people say that I am in love, and yet they do notslander me!"

"In the first place, if it be true, it is no slander, butsimply a scandal-loving report. In the next place - for youdid not allow me to finish what I was saying - the publicdoes not assert that you have abandoned yourself to thispassion. It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuousbut loving woman, defending yourself with claws and teeth,shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; inother respects, as impenetrable as that of Danae,notwithstanding Danae's tower was made of brass."

"You are witty, Marguerite," said Madame de Belliere,angrily.

"You always flatter me, Elise. In short, however you arereported to be incorruptible and unapproachable. You cannotdecide whether the world is calumniating you or not; butwhat is it you are musing about while I am speaking to you?"

"I?"

"Yes; you are blushing and do not answer me."

"I was trying," said the marquise, raising her beautifuleyes brightened with an indication of growing temper, "I wastrying to discover to what you could possibly have alluded,you who are so learned in mythological subjects in comparingme to Danae."

"You were trying to guess that?" said Marguerite, laughing.

"Yes; do you not remember that at the convent, when we weresolving our problems in arithmetic - ah! what I have totell you is learned also, but it is my turn - do you notremember, that if one of the terms were given, we were tofind out the other? Therefore do you guess now?"

"I cannot conjecture what you mean."

"And yet nothing is more simple. You pretend that I am inlove, do you not?"

"So it is said."

"Very well, it is not said, I suppose, that I am in lovewith an abstraction. There must surely be a name mentionedin this report."

"Certainly, a name is mentioned."

"Very well; it is not surprising, then, that I should try toguess this name, since you do not tell it."

"My dear marquise, when I saw you blush, I did not think youwould have to spend much time in conjectures."

"It was the word Danae which you used that surprised me.Danae means a shower of gold, does it not?"

"That is to say that the Jupiter of Danae changed himselfinto a shower of gold for her."

"My lover, then, he whom you assign me - - "

"I beg your pardon; I am your friend, and assign you noone."

"That may be; but those who are ill disposed towards me."

"Do you wish to hear the name?"

"I have been waiting this half hour for it."

"Well, then, you shall hear it. Do not be shocked; he is aman high in power."

"Good," said the marquise, as she clenched her hands like apatient at the approach of the knife.

"He is a very wealthy man," continued Marguerite; "thewealthiest, it may be. In a word, it is - - "

The marquise closed her eyes for a moment.

"It is the Duke of Buckingham," said Marguerite, burstinginto laughter. This perfidy had been calculated with extremeability; the name that was pronounced, instead of the namewhich the marquise awaited, had precisely the same effectupon her as the badly sharpened axes that had hacked,without destroying, Messieurs de Chalais and De Thou uponthe scaffold. She recovered herself, however, and said, "Iwas perfectly right in saying you were a witty woman, foryou are making the time pass away most agreeably. This jokeis a most amusing one, for I have never seen the Duke ofBuckingham."

"Never?" said Marguerite, restraining her laughter.

"I have never even left my own house since the duke has beenat Paris."

"Oh!" resumed Madame Vanel, stretching out her foot towardsa paper which was lying on the carpet near the window; "itis not necessary for people to see each other, since theycan write." The marquise trembled, for this paper was theenvelope of the letter she was reading as her friend hadentered, and was sealed with the superintendent's arms. Asshe leaned back on the sofa on which she was sitting, Madamede Belliere covered the paper with the thick folds of herlarge silk dress, and so concealed it.

"Come, Marguerite, tell me, is it to tell me all thesefoolish reports that you have come to see me so early in theday?"

"No, I came to see you, in the first place, and to remindyou of those habits of our earlier days, so delightful toremember, when we used to wander about together atVincennes, and, sitting beneath an oak, or in some sylvanshade, used to talk of those we loved, and who loved us."

"Do you propose that we should go out together now?"

"My carriage is here, and I have three hours at mydisposal."

"I am not dressed yet, Marguerite; but if you wish that weshould talk together, we can, without going to the woods ofVincennes, find in my own garden here, beautiful trees,shady groves, a greensward covered with daisies and violets,the perfume of which can be perceived from where we aresitting."

"I regret your refusal, my dear marquise, for I wanted topour out my whole heart into yours."

"I repeat again, Marguerite, my heart is yours just as muchin this room, or beneath the lime-trees in the garden here,as it would be under the oaks in the wood yonder."

"It is not the same thing for me. In approaching Vincennes,marquise, my ardent aspirations approach nearer to thatobject towards which they have for some days past beendirected." The marquise suddenly raised her head. "Are yousurprised, then, that I am still thinking of Saint-Mande?"

"Of Saint-Mande?" exclaimed Madame de Belliere; and thelooks of both women met each other like two resistlessswords.

"You, so proud!" said the marquise, disdainfully.

"I, so proud!" replied Madame Vanel. "Such is my nature. Ido not forgive neglect - I cannot endure infidelity. When Ileave any one who weeps at my abandonment, I feel inducedstill to love him; but when others forsake me and laugh attheir infidelity, I love distractedly."

Madame de Belliere could not restrain an involuntarymovement.

"She is jealous," said Marguerite to herself.

"Then," continued the marquise, "you are quite enamored ofthe Duke of Buckingham - I mean of M. Fouquet?" Elise feltthe allusion, and her blood seemed to congeal in her heart."And you wished to go to Vincennes, - to Saint-Mande,even?"

"I hardly know what I wished: you would have advised meperhaps."

"In what respect?"

"You have often done so."

"Most certainly I should not have done so in the presentinstance, for I do not forgive as you do. I am less loving,perhaps; when my heart has been once wounded, it remains soalways."

"But M. Fouquet has not wounded you," said Marguerite Vanel,with the most perfect simplicity.

"You perfectly understand what I mean. M. Fouquet has notwounded me; I do not know of either obligation or injuryreceived at his hands, but you have reason to complain ofhim. You are my friend, and I am afraid I should not adviseyou as you would like."

"Ah! you are prejudging the case."

"The sighs you spoke of just now are more than indications."

"You overwhelm me," said the young woman suddenly, as ifcollecting her whole strength, like a wrestler preparing fora last struggle; "you take only my evil dispositions and myweaknesses into calculation, and do not speak of my pure andgenerous feelings. If, at this moment, I feel instinctivelyattracted towards the superintendent, if I even make anadvance to him, which, I confess, is very probable, mymotive for it is, that M. Fouquet's fate deeply affects me,and because he is, in my opinion, one of the mostunfortunate men living."

"Ah!" said the marquise, placing her hand upon her heart,"something new, then, has occurred?"

"Do you not know it?"

"I am utterly ignorant of everything about him," said Madamede Belliere, with the poignant anguish that suspends thoughtand speech, and even life itself.

"In the first place, then, the king's favor is entirelywithdrawn from M. Fouquet, and conferred on M. Colbert."

"So it is stated."

"It is very clear, since the discovery of the plot ofBelle-Isle."

"I was told that the discovery of the fortifications therehad turned out to M. Fouquet's honor."

Marguerite began to laugh in so cruel a manner that Madamede Belliere could at that moment have delightedly plunged adagger in her bosom. "Dearest," continued Marguerite, "thereis no longer any question of M. Fouquet's honor; his safetyis concerned. Before three days are passed the ruin of thesuperintendent will be complete."

"Stay," said the marquise, in her turn smiling, "that isgoing a little too fast."

"I said three days, because I wish to deceive myself with ahope; but probably the catastrophe will be complete withintwenty-four hours."

"Why so?"

"For the simplest of all reasons, - that M. Fouquet has nomore money."

"In matters of finance, my dear Marguerite, some are withoutmoney to-day, who to-morrow can procure millions."

"That might be M. Fouquet's case when he had two wealthy andclever friends who amassed money for him, and wrung it fromevery possible or impossible source; but those friends aredead."

"Money does not die, Marguerite; it may be concealed, but itcan be looked for, bought and found."

"You see things on the bright side, and so much the betterfor you. It is really very unfortunate that you are not theEgeria of M. Fouquet; you might now show him the sourcewhence he could obtain the millions which the king asked himfor yesterday."

"Millions!" said the marquise, in terror.

"Four - an even number."

"Infamous!" murmured Madame de Belliere, tortured by herfriend's merciless delight.

"M. Fouquet, I should think, must certainly have fourmillions," she replied, courageously.

"If he has those which the king requires to-day," saidMarguerite, "he will not, perhaps, possess those which theking will demand in a month or so."

"The king will exact money from him again, then?"

"No doubt; and that is my reason for saying that the ruin ofpoor M. Fouquet is inevitable. Pride will induce him tofurnish the money, and when he has no more, he will fall."

"It is true," said the marquise, trembling; "the plan is abold one; but tell me, does M. Colbert hate M. Fouquet sovery much?"

"I think he does not like him. M. Colbert is powerful; heimproves on close acquaintance, he has gigantic ideas, astrong will, and discretion, he will rise."

"He will be superintendent?"

"It is probable. Such is the reason, my dear marquise, why Ifelt myself impressed in favor of that poor man, who onceloved, and even adored me; and why, when I see him sounfortunate, I forgive his infidelity which I have reason tobelieve he also regrets; and why, moreover, I should nothave been disinclined to afford him some consolation, orsome good advice; he would have understood the step I hadtaken, and would have thought kindly of me for it. It isgratifying to be loved, you know. Men value love more highlywhen they are no longer blinded by its influence."

The marquise, bewildered and overcome by these cruelattacks, which had been calculated with the greatest nicetyand precision, hardly knew what answer to return; she evenseemed to have lost all power of thought. Her perfidiousfriend's voice had assumed the most affectionate tone; shespoke as a woman, but concealed the instincts of a wolf.

"Well," said Madame de Belliere, who had a vague hope thatMarguerite would cease to overwhelm a vanquished enemy, "whydo you not go and see M. Fouquet?"

"Decidedly, marquise, you have made me reflect. No, it wouldbe unbecoming for me to make the first advance. M. Fouquetno doubt loves me, but he is too proud. I cannot exposemyself to an affront.... besides I have my husband toconsider. You tell me nothing? Very well, I shall consult M.Colbert on the subject." Marguerite rose smilingly, asthough to take leave, but the marquise had not the strengthto imitate her. Marguerite advanced a few paces, in orderthat she might continue to enjoy the humiliating grief inwhich her rival was plunged, and then said, suddenly, - "You do not accompany me to the door, then?" The marquiserose, pale and almost lifeless, without thinking of theenvelope, which had occupied her attention so greatly at thecommencement of the conversation, and which was revealed atthe first step she took. She then opened the door of heroratory, and without even turning her head towardsMarguerite Vanel, entered it, closing the door after her.Marguerite said, or rather muttered a few words, whichMadame de Belliere did not even hear. As soon, however, asthe marquise had disappeared, her envious enemy, not beingable to resist the desire to satisfy herself that hersuspicions were well founded, advanced stealthily towards itlike a panther and seized the envelope. "Ah!" she said,gnashing her teeth, "it was indeed a letter from M. Fouquetshe was reading when I arrived," and then darted out of theroom. During this interval, the marquise, having arrivedbehind the rampart, as it were, of her door, felt that herstrength was failing her; for a moment she remained rigid,pale and motionless as a statue, and then, like a statueshaken on its base by an earthquake, tottered and fellinanimate on the carpet. The noise of the fall resounded atthe same moment as the rolling of Marguerite's carriageleaving the hotel.