"And I," cried Fouquet, "I have found it.Listen to what has occurred to me at this moment.""I am listening."
Fouquet made a sign to Gourville, who appeared to understand."One of my friends lends me sometimes the keys of a house which he rents, Rue Baudoyer, the spacious gardens of which extend behind a certain house on the Place de Greve.""That is the place for us," said the abbe."What house?""A cabaret, pretty well frequented, whose sign represents the image of Notre Dame.""I know it," said the abbe.
"This cabaret has windows opening upon the Place, a place of exit into the court, which must abut upon the gardens of my friend by a door of communication.""Good!" said the abbe.
"Enter by the cabaret, take the prisoners in; defend the door while you enable them to fly by the garden and the Place Baudoyer.""That is all plain.Monsieur, you would make an excellent general, like monsieur le prince.""Have you understood me?"
"Perfectly well."
"How much will it amount to, to make your bandits all drunk with wine, and to satisfy them with gold?""Oh, monsieur, what an expression! Oh! monsieur, if they heard you: some of them are very susceptible.""I mean to say they must be brought no longer to know the heavens from the earth; for I shall to-morrow contend with the king; and when I fight I mean to conquer -- please to understand.""It shall be done, monsieur.Give me your other ideas.""That is your business."
"Then give me your purse."
"Gourville, count a hundred thousand livres for the abbe.""Good! and spare nothing, did you not say?""Nothing."
"That is well."
"Monseigneur," objected Gourville, "if this should be known, we should lose our heads.""Eh! Gourville," replied Fouquet, purple with anger, "you excite my pity.Speak for yourself, if you please.My head does not shake in that manner upon my shoulders.Now, abbe, is everything arranged?""Everything."
"At two o'clock to-morrow."
"At twelve, because it will be necessary to prepare our auxiliaries in a secret manner.""That is true; do not spare the wine of the cabaretier.""I will spare neither his wine nor his house," replied the abbe, with a sneering laugh."I have my plan, I tell you;leave me to set it in operation, and you shall see.""Where shall you be yourself?"
"Everywhere; nowhere."
"And how shall I receive information?"
"By a courier whose horse shall be kept in the very garden of your friend.A propos, the name of your friend?"Fouquet looked again at Gourville.The latter came to the succor of his master, saying, "Accompanying monsieur l'abbe for several reasons, only the house is easily to be known, the `Image-de-Notre-Dame' in the front, a garden, the only one in the quarter, behind.""Good, good! I will go and give notice to my soldiers.""Accompany him, Gourville," said Fouquet, "and count him down the money.One moment, abbe -- one moment, Gourville --what name will be given to this carrying off?""A very natural one, monsieur -- the Riot.""The riot on account of what? For, if ever the people of Paris are disposed to pay their court to the king, it is when he hangs financiers.""I will manage that," said the abbe.
"Yes; but you may manage it badly, and people will guess.""Not at all, -- not at all.I have another idea.""What is that?"
"My men shall cry out, `Colbert, vive Colbert!' and shall throw themselves upon the prisoners as if they would tear them in pieces, and shall force them from the gibbets, as too mild a punishment.""Ah! that is an idea," said Gourville."Peste! monsieur l'abbe, what an imagination you have!""Monsieur, we are worthy of our family," replied the abbe, proudly.
"Strange fellow," murmured Fouquet.Then he added, "That is ingenious.Carry it out, but shed no blood."Gourville and the abbe set off together, with their heads full of the meditated riot.The superintendent laid himself down upon some cushions, half valiant with respect to the sinister projects of the morrow, half dreaming of love.