I shall have the honor of sending your majesty sixteen hundred thousand livres this evening." "How," said the king, "sixteen hundred thousand livres ?" "Look, sire," replied Fouquet, without even turning towards Colbert, "I know that wants four hundred thousand livres of the two millions.

But this monsieur of l'intendance" (pointing over his shoulder to Colbert, who if possible, became paler, behind him) "has in his coffers nine hundred thousand livres of mine." The king turned round to look at Colbert.
"But--" said the latter.
"Monsieur," continued Fouquet, still speaking indirectly to Colbert, "monsieur has received, a week ago, sixteen hundred thousand livres; he has paid a hundred thousand livres to the guards, sixty-four thousand livres to the hospitals, twenty-five thousand to the Swiss, an hundred and thirty thousand for provisions, a thousand for arms, ten thousand for accidental expenses; I do not err, then, in reckoning upon nine hundred thousand livres that are left." Then turning towards Colbert, like a disdainful head of office towards his inferior, "Take care, monsieur," said he, "that those nine hundred thousand livres be remitted to his majesty this evening, in gold." "But," said the king, "that will make two millions five hundred thousand livres." "Sire, the five hundred thousand livres over will serve as pocket money for his royal highness.

You understand, Monsieur Colbert, this evening before eight o'clock." And with these words, bowing respectfully to the king, the superintendent made his exit backwards, without honoring with a single look the envious man, whose head he had just half shaved.
Colbert tore his ruffles to pieces in his rage, and bit his lips till they bled.
Fouquet had not passed the door of the cabinet, when an usher pushing by him, exclaimed: "A courier from Bretagne for his majesty." "M.

d'Herblay was right," murmured Fouquet, pulling out his watch; "an hour and fifty-five minutes.

It was quite true.".